Chapter 24: The Pact

A group of burly men with gloomy expressions strode out from Ji Hao’s small courtyard, many of them grumbling loudly.

“To defeat the eldest brother, he had to rely on the power of the ancestral shamanic treasure—does someone like that deserve to be our leader?”

“If it weren’t for so many elders from the eldest brother’s branch who died resisting foreign enemies for the Fire Crow Tribe, we wouldn’t have lost so many of the ancient shamanic treasures. How could the eldest brother have lost to that boy otherwise?”

“That pale-skinned fellow, I can’t stand the sight of him. Soft skin, delicate build—he doesn’t even look like a man!”

“His reputation is rotten. Hmph, if you ask around near their tribe, you’ll hear all sorts of things!”

These men were the fiercest warriors of the Fire Crow Tribe, and closest allies of Ji Xia. They were seething with resentment toward Ji Shu’s rise to power. Yet the rules laid down by their ancestors remained unbroken—Ji Xia had lost in the ancestral rites, and there was nothing they could do about Ji Shu’s ascension.

Many clansmen came to visit the unconscious Ji Xia and Qing Fu. The sight of their current state only deepened the tribe’s dissatisfaction with Ji Shu. Ji Xia had led the warriors for years, fighting the Blackwater Mystic Serpent Tribe—the tribe’s age-old enemies—and winning vast lands for his people. Everyone trusted his ability.

Qing Fu, too, was renowned for her healing skills; the shamanic medicines she crafted had saved countless clansfolk from plague. Her reputation even exceeded Ji Xia’s.

All had seen with their own eyes how Ji Shu had deliberately wounded the couple, and none would forget it. Though the tribe could not prevent Ji Shu from taking the position of chief warrior, to expect him to command their loyalty as he wished was impossible.

When the last wave of visitors had departed, Ji Hao finally sat beside Qing Fu, pressing his hands gently to her temples and silently channeling the Art of Mending Heaven Without Leakage.

Thread by thread, tricolored flames welled from Qing Fu’s temples, drawn into Ji Hao’s own body. The terrifying heat scorched him, sweat pouring down like a spring. Yet before the Samadhi Fire could do him greater harm, the five-colored flame in his lower abdomen began to shudder violently, devouring all of the Samadhi Fire in an instant.

The tiny, dim five-colored flame suddenly blazed brighter, and as it flickered, a torrent of multicolored radiance surged from its core, flooding Ji Hao’s body. Having already reached the tenth level of the Shaman Realm, with strength equivalent to a hundred thousand stones, Ji Hao felt his power increase yet again—far beyond his expectations.

“This is the power of dragon blood.” A deep, resonant voice echoed in his mind. “Your physical structure has reached its most perfect state. The upper limit of your strength far surpasses that of ordinary humans. Find more powerful prey and devour them—you could, even at the Shaman Realm, possess strength to rival a Great Shaman.”

Ji Hao curled his lips, utterly indifferent to the shade’s suggestion. Attaining the strength of a Great Shaman while still in the Shaman Realm—just how many powerful beasts would he have to consume for that?

When he had devoured all the fire energy from Qing Fu’s body, Ji Hao repeated the process with Ji Xia, refining the fire energy from his body as well. Forming seals with his hands, Ji Hao stood beside the two and silently communed with the boundless energies of the world around him.

The True Word of “Zhe” was silently invoked. Ji Xia and Qing Fu’s bodies began to tremble lightly. With the power of the Nine Syllable Mantra, Ji Hao took control of their bodies, urging them to awaken their deepest, most mysterious vitality.

The “Zhe” syllable then erupted. Ji Hao’s hand seals shifted, and radiant light flowed from the air like a river, pouring into Ji Xia and Qing Fu. The “Zhe” syllable represented the most mysterious power of rejuvenation; potent life force surged within them, repairing every hidden wound.

Under Ji Hao’s spiritual sight, even the shamanic points that had been destroyed in years past began to recover rapidly under the power of the “Zhe” syllable. It was entirely possible that all the damage from the destruction of their shamanic points could be perfectly healed.

Bathed in a gentle glow, Ji Xia and Qing Fu’s pained expressions softened, becoming serene.

Ji Hao gazed at them, finally letting out a long breath of relief.

With a double thud, a raven more than two feet tall landed on the windowsill, tapping firmly at the frame with its beak.

Ji Hao walked over, stroked the raven with care, and fed it a piece of dried meat. In a soft voice, he asked, “Is Grandfather looking for me?”

The raven cawed once, flapped its wings silently, and flew off. Ji Hao glanced back at the quietly resting Ji Xia and Qing Fu, then slipped out the window, following the raven as it led him through the tribe, avoiding others’ dwellings, until he reached the mulberry grove at the end of the valley.

Within the secretive grove, in the great council lodge, Ji Kui, Ji Tu, and more than a dozen of the highest-ranking shaman priests sat around the fire pit. As Ji Hao entered, Ji Kui beckoned him with a smile, patting the floor beside him.

“Hao, come sit here.”

Ji Hao sat at Ji Kui’s side, carefully studying the solemn faces of the shaman priests before addressing them respectfully. “Grandfathers, what did you call me here for?”

Ji Kui drooped his eyelids and spoke calmly. “You know, Ji Shu is a distant cousin of your father’s branch... To be precise, our Fire Crow Tribe’s imperial line has a hundred and twenty-seven branches; but of all these, except for your father’s, Ji Shu’s is the most orthodox among the others.”

He sighed, his tone turning cold. “But they have grown too close to the Bi Fang Tribe. Many of their actions are contrary to the interests of our Fire Crow Tribe. So, they have always been excluded from Golden Crow Ridge, never given a chance to touch the power of the Holy Land.”

Ji Hao gave a wry smile. “Grandfather, this time, Father was wounded by Ji Shu...”

Ji Kui’s withered hand pressed down on Ji Hao’s shoulder. “Things have come to this; let’s see what their true intentions are. But what matters most now, Hao, is that all of us old folks agree you’re the child with the greatest promise. We absolutely cannot allow you to be exposed to risk.”

Ji Hao spread his hands, speaking earnestly to Ji Kui. “But Ji Shu’s son was killed, and I was half the reason. Ji Shu, Jiang Yao, and those behind them—they won’t let me off so easily.”

Ji Kui pursed his lips and gave a mysterious smile. “That’s why, during the ancestral rites, we received guidance from the ancestral spirits. Hao, though you are not yet a Great Shaman, the ancestral spirits have given special permission for you to form a beast contract with a giant raven.”

Ji Hao stared in disbelief. The giant raven was of the same terrifying rank as Grandpa Crow, the one he rode daily. Even Ji Xia himself wasn’t eligible to contract such a beast—yet he was?

“Grandfather, how did the ancestral spirits know about me?” Ji Hao asked, deeply curious.

“We are the shaman priests of the Fire Crow Tribe. If the ancestral spirits tell us something, of course we must follow it!” Ji Kui and the other priests all smiled cryptically. “The will of the ancestral spirits has always been delivered through us. So, Hao, letting you contract a giant raven must certainly be their intent.”

Ji Hao understood perfectly and asked no further questions.

The heavy wooden doors creaked open, and Grandpa Crow, who usually carried Ji Hao around, shuffled in. Upon seeing Ji Hao, Grandpa Crow gave a joyful cry, and a single drop of crystal-clear blood floated from his beak, transforming into a twisted rune that shot into Ji Hao’s brow like lightning.

At that instant, Ji Hao sensed Grandpa Crow’s presence. His body trembled, the power of his bloodline roared within him like a tide, and a blaze of golden-red fire soared skyward behind him.