Grand Ancestral Bloodlines-Novel

1368 Other Ways

Primus' expression slowly returned to normal. Soon, it was as though nothing had happened. He gave Ryu another glance before turning toward lanjor and walking toward him.

Ryu frowned. It couldn't be that he planned to take out his frustration on lanjor, right? Although he hadn't shown it, he felt a great amount of shock when lanjor seemed to imply that Primus had stolen his eyes. He had a lot of hatred from his so-called great grandfather, but he still didn't believe that he would do such a thing, in fact he felt that he even somewhat comprehended the kind of person he was, which was why it was so surprising.

But even so, he could see a possibility of the first happening. But this? This wasn't just petty, it was pathetic.

Primus' hand reached out and lanjor couldn't even move beneath his might. The latter's forehead was sucked into Primus' palm.

"Interesting. Someone actually dares to touch my disciple like this."

Hearing this, several had a change in expression, of which Empana and Ryu were probably the worst. Empana never thought that lanjor would actually be the disciple of a Dao Sovereign, while Ryu never thought that his great grandfather would actually care to take a disciple.

But after seeing the state of lanjor's eyes, Ryu seemed to understand something. If Primus took a disciple, there had to be a reason, and it likely wasn't good. Now that he thought about it, Janjor's talent was never this good, his odds of making it even to the Dao Pedestal Realm was fairly low, barely 50%, let alone the Sky God Realm and beyond.

However, the lanjor he had met today was extremely talented, so much so that he could keep up with the likes of Empana even while holding back. There was something curious going on here.

At the same time, Ryu came to understand something else. Primus likely wasn't just here for him. A disciple was like a child, it could even be argued that lanjor's relationship with Primus should be deeper than his own with Primus. The amount of Karma he needed to close with Ianjor should be at least equal, if not surpassing him by a great measure.

lanjor struggled, but how could he do anything under Primus' might?

"I'm not your disciple, you bastard!"

Ianjor was furious. In his opinion, Primus was far too shameless to call him a disciple.

He remembered how excited he had been when he first became Primus' disciple. He didn't know who Primus was initially, all he knew was that he was an extremely powerful man far beyond his imagination. But very quickly, that dream became a nightmare. ɴovel(F)ɪre

He spent his days in hell, a terrible and endless pain. His bones were cracked and reformed, his flesh burned away and healed, even his very soul was torturing in a hellish flame for millennia.

He had been so naïve. At first, he had grit his teeth and endured because he felt that his "master" was doing this for his own good. He knew that his talent was poor, and he felt that the only reason such an expert would pick him would be if he saw something deeper than just his talent, maybe he had taken a fancy to his will power.

So he held on, he endured, he fought everyday within an inch of his life. And he was rewarded for it, he watched as his talent increased everyday. It was slow, but it was progress nonetheless. Whenever he stagnated, he would grit his teeth and endure more as the torture only increased. He lost count of how many times he had truly believed himself to have died.

What he didn't know was that he wasn't a disciple to this man, he was nothing more than a lab rat, a convenient and durable tool to test out Primus' theories so that he could lay down his own path forward. He had never cared about him.

Maybe that would be something that lanjor could accept. Nothing in this world came for free, and he understood that. He didn't have talent, why would such a powerful expert take him on if not for some other purpose? That was still acceptable. While he had suffered, hadn't he gained as well?

But then that day Deep Eruption Sect was being assaulted from all sides, the day his father died, he had begged and begged for his master's help. When Primus showed no signs of lifting even a finger, lanjor had accepted it and begged to at least be allowed to go and help, but he hadn't even been able to do that.

Primus continued to experiment with him, decades, centuries, millennia, millions of years passed. lanjor never stopped pleading, as though he didn't know that the fate of his Sect... of his father, his mother, his siblings... had already long since been decided.

Then one day, Primus simply disappeared without a word. lanjor awoke from another bout of pain, his soul aching, his body aching... He didn't even know how long it had been since Primus disappeared, it could have been a second ago, it could have been thousands of years ago, he simply didn't know.

His body aching, he rushed to his Sect, only to find a completely unfamiliar group of people, the family that he had once known completely destroyed.

He entered a rage and suddenly awakened the Eighth Ranked Fire Eyes, but he was still too weak. He had spent all of his time refining his foundation and his cultivation had plummeted down to the Awakening Realm. Even though he was now at a standard of the True Martial World, the gap was still far too large to leap through. He could only escape, beaten and broken.

Over the years, he realized that he couldn't even quite find who was responsible. Finally, he understood that it was the Martial Gods, but the ones present in Sacrum were nothing more than the façade. He wanted true revenge, he wanted the Martial Gods of the True Martial World to suffer... he wanted the master who completely turned his back on him to suffer.

So he went to the True Martial World.

Who would have known that he would barely make it to the Seventh Heaven before his eyes were recognized and snatched from him, torn from his body cruelly. If not for the Fire Spirit Body that he had also awakened, only death would have waited for him that day...

He had no choice but to flee back to Sacrum, beaten and broken. He didn't even dare to return to the True Martial World, or to even use his real name, for fear that he would trigger the Lines of Fate that would allow that person to find him.

Even so, his hatred for Primus was no less. At least the person who stole his eyes was just an expert of the True Martial World, he had no connection to Primus and had no responsibility toward him. But Primus was supposed to be his master, a man who should have been his second father, and yet he had practically spit in his face and thrown him away like useless, worthless goods.

Primus pulled his hand back and looked at his palm, seemingly calculating something.

At that moment, a flame sparked from his shoulder and leapt down, quickly forming a clone. This replica vanished into the void and the world fell into silence. Time seemed to tick by slowly, but in less than five minutes, the clone had appeared once more, this time, in its palm, the throat of a man with his hair singed and destroyed had appeared.

If those of the Seventh Heaven had been here, they would have been completely shocked. This was the current Patriarch of the Raging Inferno Sect. And if Ryu had paid more attention, he would have known that this was the very same Sect that Jojo and her band of junior brothers was from.

What was more important than all of that was that this man was a Dao Lord!

lanjor's countenance changed. How could he not recognize this man, this was the very same man who had taken his eyes!

"Mm, it should be him. It seems that he didn't dare to fuse with your eyes yet."

Primus raised another palm and a box flew out from the Patriarch's spatial ring and into his hands. He opened it and within was a pair of glistening red eyes that pulsed like polished gems.

Primus picked them up and before Ianjor could react, he forced them into his scarred eyes.

lanjor screamed out, grabbing his head, but Primus had already ignored him.. Indeed, he was finished with lanjor, he had already repaid their Karma.

"S-senior, please spare my life!" The Patriarch began to beg, realizing that he had offended someone he couldn't afford to offend.

Primus didn't even respond, his replica squeezing its palm and killing the man in a single move.

A wild surge appeared, before it could take form, Primus waved another hand and it was concentrated into his palm.

Primus looked up, not taking the energy in his hands seriously despite the fact it was the condensed essence of a Dao Lord.

"Alright, there's a simpler way to do all of this. For the next 10 years, no one can touch my great grandson."

There was more than one way to complete Karma. This was less convenient, but 10 years was nothing to him.