Chapter 75: The Dominator’s Blood Elixir

Rowling stepped gradually toward the innermost part of the cottage, heading for the dark red cabinet. Although neither of the two Mesuses had revealed the location of the treasure, that was the only spot in the entire room secured with a large lock that matched the key in his hand.

Standing before the cabinet, he inserted the key into the lock. As expected, the key slid in without resistance, and with a gentle twist, there came a crisp click—the lock sprang open.

Excitement surged in Rowling’s heart. He had no idea what kind of treasure Mesus had stored inside this massive, dark red cabinet. After taking a moment to collect himself, he carefully removed the lock and slowly opened the nearly three-meter-tall cabinet door.

At that very instant—

A gray figure shot out from the pitch-black interior. The moment Rowling opened the door, the figure appeared before him, ghostlike. Before Rowling could react, the figure seized his jaw, forcing his head back and his mouth open. With a swift movement, he uncorked a crystal vial and poured its contents directly down Rowling’s throat.

Rowling tried desperately to resist, only to discover he couldn’t move a muscle!

In the blink of an eye, the small vial’s violet-gold potion was emptied entirely into his stomach. The gray figure tossed the empty bottle aside and released his grip on Rowling’s jaw.

Finally regaining control of his body, Rowling doubled over, clutching his throat and retching furiously. But the potion was already deep within him; no matter how hard he heaved, nothing but saliva came up. Enraged, Rowling looked up at the man who’d forced the potion down his throat.

One look, and Rowling was taken aback. The man was a burly, middle-aged figure in a gray robe, his features identical to those of the black-robed and white-robed Mesuses. Yet his eyes were cold, and an aura of power emanated from him—qualities the other two Mesuses lacked.

“Who are you? What did you make me drink?” Rowling demanded, his voice full of fury.

“I am Mesus, master of this great hall. What you just drank is the ‘Dominant Blood Elixir,’ a potion I personally crafted—far surpassing any nine-star elixir,” the gray-robed man replied coolly.

“You had no right to force that potion on me without my consent!” Rowling snapped. He suspected this man was indeed the true Mesus of legend from a thousand years ago. Why he was here, and why he had forced the potion upon him, was a mystery. But at this moment, Rowling cared only for the injustice.

The gray-robed Mesus shot Rowling a frosty glance. “I am far stronger than you. Do I need your permission for anything I do?”

The words left Rowling speechless with indignation. He was about to retort when a sudden, excruciating pain erupted in his abdomen, cutting him off. Clutching his belly, he collapsed to the floor, sweat streaming down his forehead as the agony intensified until he could not help but scream in torment.

“The most extraordinary elixir I’ve ever produced, the pinnacle of my life’s work—I never even had the chance to try it myself. Today, it’s yours, Rowling. I hope you survive; if not, your death is nothing, but what a waste that would be for my precious Dominant Blood Elixir!” The gray-robed Mesus looked down at Rowling, whose writhing body twisted in agony, and spoke with icy detachment.

In the depths of the Maya Mountains, Victoria was stumbling quickly through the forest, at times nearly falling—only saved by grabbing the trees around her for balance.

Her entire suit of ice armor had long since vanished. Her elegant violet dress was slashed in several places by claws, and the wound on her abdomen, visible beneath the torn fabric, was so deep the bone nearly showed. Only a thick layer of ice sealed the gash; without it, she would surely have bled out by now.

In her battle with the six-star beast, the White-Faced Fox, Victoria had been thoroughly defeated. The beast had shown her no mercy, chasing her relentlessly. Forced into a desperate retreat, she fought and fled, exhausting most of her magic and spirit. Had this continued, she would have been hounded to death.

In one final confrontation, Victoria risked a grievous wound to land a heavy blow on her pursuer. The beast, gravely injured, finally abandoned the chase, allowing Victoria to escape by the narrowest margin. Now, she sought a safe haven to tend her wounds.

Emerging from the forest, Victoria found herself surrounded by a sea of red. The branches and trunks of the trees were all tinged with a faint crimson. Such a vibrant wood was rare in the Maya Mountains, especially in early spring. Without hesitation, she staggered into this scarlet grove, hoping to find sanctuary.

Back in the dining hall of Porter Academy, Mahler, Gabatz, Bill, and Karina were gathered around a table, eating together.

“Mahler, when do you think Brother Rowling will return? We haven’t seen him for more than two months now,” Karina said, pouting.

“Heh, Karina, missing our Fourth Brother, are you?” Gabatz teased, leaning in, only to have Karina stuff a bun into his mouth.

Mahler sighed softly. “Karina, honestly, we’re all worried about him. He’s only a third-level mage, venturing alone into the Maya Mountains. I haven’t had a good feeling lately; my eyelids keep twitching. I just hope nothing’s happened to him.”

“Oh, nonsense, boss. Fourth Brother’s a miracle worker—he’ll be fine. My sister’s been gone for over half a year and she’s still not back!” Bill chimed in.

“I just hope both Rowling and Victoria return to the academy safe and sound. Then we can all celebrate together,” Karina said, trying to lift everyone’s spirits.

Gabatz chewed and finally managed to swallow his mouthful of bun. “That’s right, Bill. When the time comes, bring your sister along too. We’ll have a real feast and celebrate their safe return!”

Back in the small room atop the Mesus Sanctuary, Rowling was convulsing on the floor in agony, his screams chilling to the bone. He pounded his abdomen with his fists, desperate to shatter the source of his torment—the lower dantian below his navel, where all the pain originated.

Deep within, his lower dantian was tightly encased in a violet-gold liquid. As the liquid seeped in, it sliced through the fragile walls of the dantian like a sharp blade, sending fresh waves of pain through Rowling’s body with every penetration.

The gray-robed Mesus merely watched, his face impassive. Suddenly, a deep disappointment flickered in his eyes. Blood began to pour from Rowling’s nose, mouth, eyes, and ears all at once.

“Alas, as expected, he failed. The boy couldn’t endure it. Who would have thought my precious Dominant Blood Elixir, forged at the cost of my own life, would be wasted like this!”