Chapter Fourteen: The Day of Ceremony

For several days afterward, all was calm. Ji Shu, Jiang Bo, and their group, swallowed their anger and managed not to let anyone know they had been ambushed.

Golden Crow Ridge was entering its busiest period before the ancestral ritual. Leaders of the various branches of the Fire Raven Tribe arrived at the sacred land with their clans, day and night, and the scent of roasting meat and pungent wine constantly wafted beneath the ridge.

The Fire Raven Tribe’s ancestors had produced mighty figures at the sorcerer king and emperor level; though in the past millennia, no one had broken through to the great sorcerer realm, the foundation left by their forebears remained formidable. Centered around Golden Crow Ridge, nearly a thousand branch tribes were scattered throughout the vast forests.

Some of these branch tribes numbered close to a million, even the smallest had tens of thousands, each controlling a host of weaker vassal clans. With over a thousand tribal and vassal leaders converging, Ji Xia was overwhelmed and barely keeping up.

Despite the chaos, Ji Xia never forgot about Ji Hao during these days.

Four-armed gorilla bears, one-horned qilin beasts, golden-crowned baboons, winged black tigers, soul-devouring shadow leopards—ferocious beasts and wild birds famed for their strength, surpassing sorcerers of the same rank, were continually sent over. After Qing Fu skillfully concocted them with nourishing herbs, Ji Hao devoured them one after another.

In barely half a month, Ji Hao had consumed over fifty such savage beasts and fierce birds with his Heaven-Mending Secret. Among them were several at the junior sorcerer level. The multicolored flames in his lower abdomen had more than doubled in size, and the radiant streams released were absorbed, causing Ji Hao to grow more than a foot taller and become far sturdier within these few weeks.

On this day, before dawn, the summit of Golden Crow Ridge was alive. In the enormous bird nests atop the giant green mulberry trees, over a thousand giant ravens took flight at once.

These ravens radiated blinding firelight, suspended in midair like a thousand miniature suns. Their heat surged skyward, evaporating every cloud within a hundred miles. As a dozen floating peaks, each several miles across, drifted past Golden Crow Ridge, the ravens unleashed their power. The peaks, towering a thousand yards high, erupted in flames and, in the blink of an eye, dissolved into wisps of smoke.

The ravens’ cries shook the earth, echoing through the valley and the mulberry forest below. Countless crows, each several feet in size, took to the air, forming a mighty, endless black current that swept around Golden Crow Ridge in swirling flight.

The skies were filled with the sound of wings beating, and black and red feathers rained down from above.

Ji Hao stood in his courtyard, silently reciting the nine-word mantra. His hands formed mystical seals, his feet traced the celestial steps, channeling his energy and refining the twin-headed python-drake he had just swallowed. This was a powerful creature at the peak of the junior sorcerer realm, already showing signs of transforming into a true drake. The multicolored flames refined its essence, and streams of radiant energy roared within his body. His flesh and bones hungrily absorbed the purified essence, nurturing and strengthening him.

Under Ji Hao’s powerful spiritual control, a portion of that radiant energy was forced into his purple mansion, where a fist-sized pill absorbed it. The golden-hued pill expanded and contracted, faintly hinting at the formation of a true golden core.

A surge of wild joy rushed through Ji Hao’s mind—he nearly shouted to the heavens. In just a few short years, relying on the boundless spiritual energy of this world and the terrifying effects of the Heaven-Mending Secret, Ji Hao had retrained the nine-word mantra and pill scripture, catching up in a few years to thirty years of achievements from his previous life.

What thrilled him even more was that, though the pill in his spiritual purple mansion had not yet become substantial, the power stored within was already a hundred times that of his former golden core, and its purity far surpassed anything from his past.

All this energy was the essence forcibly extracted from savage beasts and fierce birds by the Heaven-Mending Secret!

Once the essence of the twin-headed python-drake had been fully absorbed and digested, Ji Hao took a deep breath and slowly exhaled a scorching crimson vapor.

The fiery breath shot forth like an arrow, spraying ten yards ahead. As it dispersed, the temperature in the courtyard soared. The fat bear, who had been snoring at the cabin door, quivered in fright, its flesh wobbling as it scrambled to its feet and barked furiously at Ji Hao.

Ji Hao laughed heartily, feeling his energy, spirit, and vigor in perfect harmony. His mind was clear and fluid, thoughts unimpeded and pure, a sensation unlike any he had ever experienced. Though only half a month had passed, the benefits brought by the Heaven-Mending Secret far outweighed the bitter toil of the previous decade.

“Old man, thank you,” he called out mentally to the vast white mist within his soul’s space.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

As the giant ravens cried out atop Golden Crow Ridge, enormous beast-hide war drums thundered in the valley below. At least a thousand drums sounded simultaneously, their thunderous beat reverberating across the surrounding mountains, even making the ground tremble.

A sharp blast of dragonbone horns pierced the air—the ancestors of the Fire Raven Tribe had once slain dragons, and the throat bones of those giants had been crafted into a precious set of horns, now considered a treasured heirloom of the tribe.

Today was the day of the ancestral ritual, and the set of dragonbone horns had been brought out, played by the most esteemed and powerful sorcerer-priests of the Fire Raven Tribe. Their shrill, high-pitched wailing soared into the sky, where clouds and mist gathered, faintly forming the shapes of giant dragons riding the winds above.

“Hao! Time to head to the ancestral temple.” Qing Fu emerged, dressed neatly and cleanly, wearing a long skirt she had woven herself from hemp, her long hair pinned up with nine slender wooden hairpins.

Ji Hao glanced at the nine pins in her hair—needle-like, in black, white, and blue. Looking closely, he could see swirling mist within, and intricate runes shifting along their length.

These were the Life and Death Needles, a set of inherited sorcerous treasures from Qing Fu’s maternal clan, the Blueweed Tribe, brought as her dowry when she married Ji Xia. The needles could save lives, but they were equally swift for killing. Ji Hao had seen Qing Fu use the white and blue needles to heal grievously wounded clansfolk, but this was the first time she wore the three black needles.

“Mother, I heard Jiang Yao is gravely injured; she probably won’t show herself today,” Ji Hao said seriously, noticing the solemn air about Qing Fu and the faint herbal aroma emanating from her sleeves.

“Hao, you’re still young—you don’t understand women.” Qing Fu squinted and smiled coolly. “Today is the Fire Raven Tribe’s ancestral ritual. As long as Jiang Yao is alive, she’ll appear, and she’ll certainly challenge me.”

Ji Hao fell silent, took the soft beast-hide armor Qing Fu handed him, and donned it. Mother and son, accompanied by the fat bear, left the courtyard.

All around, tribesmen of the Fire Raven Tribe converged from every direction, forming a boiling river of humanity in the valley.

Nearly a hundred sorcerer-priests and elders led the procession, blowing the dragon horns at the front, guiding the mighty throng as they climbed toward Golden Crow Ridge.