Boiling Beast Bloodline-Chapter 47 - 2 As Red as Blood_2
47: Chapter 2: As Red as Blood_2
47 -2: As Red as Blood_2
In the Bimon Sacrificial Ceremony, the Scepter Shaman is akin to the high-ranking priest near the top of the golden pyramid.
Other than the four Great Shamans, Wei An, the twelve main priests of the grand priest team, and the red-robed high priest, the Scepter Shaman could be seen as the highest symbol in the Temple of the Bimon War God.
Each Scepter Shaman typically boasts a noble title, their stature in Bimon society being akin to that of an accomplished mage among humans.
The “Soul Lock Chain War Song” is quite a high-ranking battle song, given Helen’s current singing power, she would be unable to use it even if she learned it proficiently; not to mention, Liu Zhenhan, a shaman apprentice subjected to a curse by a magical beast.
Such a war song isn’t of any use during large-scale battles, but it’s invaluable at critical moments when it could potentially save a person who is important to oneself.
There will always be a Scepter Shaman by the side of the King of the Bimon Kingdom.
Among every hundred shamans and every twenty years, those like Helen who can undergo natural evolution number no more than two.
Among the thousands of years of shaman canon in the Bimon beastman society, there has yet to be an example of a naturally evolving high-ranking war song.
Liu Zhenhan’s current grade was merely that of a Soul Singer, only one rank higher than the poorest Wind Whisperer.
He barely qualified, having just summoned a magical pet, it died and not only that, he found himself grappling with a ‘Blood Sacrifice Curse,’ which only occurs once every thousand years, reducing the effectiveness of his only known war song to a mere twenty percent.
But just as all seemed lost, to his surprise, he had been stirred by Helen’s fading life force to the point where he composed and sang a song of his own, called “Locks of Blood.” This song, composed in the Bimon universal language, was infused with profound sadness akin to deep waters, and a nameless sorrow that gave listeners heartache beyond measure.
All Bimon shaman battle songs have their own immutable ceremonial gravity. freёnovelkiss.com
Those not born as prodigy Soul Singers, should they sing even one note wrong, would result in a total loss of the song’s power.
Liu Zhenhan’s “Locks of Blood,” which he composed independently without using any scores from the War God Temple, overturned the Bimon War Song’s principles and still produced the effects of a war song.
With just this fact alone, even Liu Zhenhan himself found it hard to believe.
Liu Zhenhan understood that even his most proficient song, the “Spirit Communication War Song,” would lose all of its unique effects instantly if even one lyric was altered.
According to Little Fox, it was fortunate that Bimon war songs had no backlash.
If he were human and a mage, uttering even a single incorrect syllable of a spell could result in magical backlash and cost one’s life.
Therefore, when Helen spoke, Liu Zhenhan was completely dumbfounded.
He had not witnessed the true nature of the “Soul Lock Chain War Song”.
When that golden ray of light passed through Helen and himself just now, consumed by overwhelming sorrow, Liu Zhenhan didn’t have the time to think about what it was.
Upon hearing Helen’s account, he realized that it was indeed a miracle of a battle song delivered by him.
“Soul Lock Chain?” Liu Zhenhan started to feel heavy and lethargic.
He presumed it was because his life was linked with Helen’s.
“An unimaginable miracle!” Helen exclaimed.
Although she still seemed somewhat weak, it was clear that the brute strength of Liu Zhenhan, akin to a magical beast, had been infused into her body through the “Soul Lock Chain”, completely bringing her back from the brink of death.
“When we were passing through the Narleur Horn, I vowed while staring at the grandiose giant god statues carved into cliffs on both sides, that I would devote myself to any God who could heal you, Helen!” Liu Zhenhan exclaimed joyously: “Now I am faithfully pledged to the leader of the Kampas!”
“By the War God!” Helen cried out, “How could you, a naturally born soul singer, still harbor doubts regarding the teachings of the War God, even now?”
“Helen…” Liu Zhenhan hesitated, then couldn’t help but ask: “In this world, has anyone ever seen a god with their own eyes?”
Before Helen could answer, Liu Zhenhan laughed and cut her off, telling her that there was no point in answering.
Was he a pig-headed man of the foolish Pigiel race?
A natural-born Soul Singer?
A shaman whose war song lost its power due to a pet beast curse?
The inventor of a new type of Bimon war song?
The strongest man amongst the physically frail shamans?
Liu Zhenhan himself was left feeling utterly confused by his array of awe-inspiring identities.
Overjoyed at Helen’s miraculous survival, he had no time to dwell on his bewilderment.
He held Helen tightly in his arms.
A melodious harp sound rang across the sea, followed by an ethereal woman’s voice, singing a song which at times was sweet and fresh, at other times, stirring; now with an air of unbounded superiority, now like a boundless mirage, bewitching, ensnaring the soul.
Sometimes it was profound and profound mourning, at others it seemed flirtatious; at times, whimsical and at others, noble.
A myriad of emotions was condensed into the small world of that song, capturing Liu Zhenhan’s mood completely.
If Helen’s battle song was pure and devout, this wordless song, sung like a soft murmur, was decidedly enchanting.
The bamboo raft, enveloped in the gentle luminescence of the Night Pearl, quietly drifted downstream towards a protruding object in the distance, black as if it were a reef.
The bewitching singing emanated from that cluster of fog-shrouded rocks.
Helen struggled to her feet, looking gravely serious despite her illness.
The fog on the reef was dispersed by the soft glow emanating from the Night Pearl on the bamboo raft.
On the black reef sat a strikingly beautiful girl.
A transparent crystal crown on her head shone splendidly under the reflection of the Night Pearl.
From the waist down, the girl had a large fish tail that, like her wet hair, was a dazzlingly beautiful golden color.
Her skin resembled the purest milk, her lips were as captivatingly rosy as rose petals, and her eyes as deep and blue as the sea, evoking endless imagination.
“Richard, it seems we’re rather unlucky.” Helen said, staring at Richard and managing a wistful smile.
“We’ve run into the mermaid royalty of the Seia Empire in the sea.”
Richard’s pupils tightened.
A mermaid!
The sea-dwelling royalty!
The sea people who despised land-dwellers!
The supposed overlords who were said to relish fresh humans as food!
Frightening innate Water Element Mages!
The mermaid gently strummed her crystal harp, her murmured notes transforming into heavenly music.
She didn’t seem to cast a glance at the bamboo raft.
In silence, Richard picked up a bamboo pole from the raft.
The top of the pole was sharpened into a lethal point, and there were traces of dark blood stains, a testament from a tiger head shark.
Richard wouldn’t mind if the bamboo pole gained yet more blood stains from sea humans.
The wind rose, Richard swept back his long hair that was dancing in the wind.
Helen’s eyes couldn’t conceal her surprise.
Richard, who was normally jovial has completely transformed into someone else entirely.
His piercing gaze echoed the sharp arrow that had once punctured the sky in the ancient war between divines and demons, shot by an elven archer.
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Hehe!
Some readers guess it’s a case of using blood to save Helen.
Hehe!
Great guess, but my writing isn’t compelling enough.
Compared with ‘Orc Empire’, this doesn’t quite hit the mark.
I’ll aim to write in a simpler vernacular in the future.
As for JET’s song, I have heard it before.
Those familiar with my work would know; it’s the one from the Cat Ear Cave erhu scene.
To the author of “Rise of the Dragon” causing a ruckus in the comment section, please forgive my frankness.
You have the boldness of a writer but lack the endurance and perseverance to endure solitude.
Don’t assume being reported by a supposed veteran means that it is me.
That would be a petty assumption of yours.
I only have connections with a group of good buddies who were readers or authors known from the start and some new friends, including readers from Tianya, such as Fancy Dream and Little Rescue.
These were made through connections from Brother Liao Wumo’s books.
Every single one of them are tenacious, their passion still burns bright.
The other day, you cast two hundred votes.
Even if I gave you another opportunity to vote, you wouldn’t beat me, as I had five hundred and eighty votes.
And out of those, only two were my own.
