Volume Two: The Rise of the Bloodline Sorcerer Chapter One: Lost in the Darkness

"Drip, drop..."

In the pitch-black night, a light drizzle fell from the sky. Biting, frigid winds whistled through the darkness, tearing through the heavy, smog-filled atmosphere.

"Awoo..."

In a city choked with smog and the scent of steel, a chilling howl suddenly pierced the air. Several dark shadows, moving on all fours, darted rapidly through the night as if fleeing from something.

"Stop! There’s a smell of blood here..."

A low voice suddenly rumbled, accompanied by the gleam of several ghostly green eyes. The leading shadow stood upright, his form gradually shrinking, and he began to walk toward an abandoned factory not far away.

"Shit... what is this..."

Following the scent of blood, the burly black man leading the group entered the factory. Gazing toward a corner, his eyes immediately narrowed in vigilance at the sight of a body, or rather, half of one.

The torso was all that remained; the flesh was a mangled mess, and everything below the waist had vanished. It was barely recognizable as a humanoid creature, its body riddled with dense, silver filaments that pierced through the flesh, leaving it looking like a sieve.

Most peculiar of all, the creature was not entirely dead. Even in the darkness, the burly man could clearly see the torso’s chest still rising and falling violently.

"Raze, is that... a corpse?"

Just then, a burly white man behind him pointed at the body, his face filled with astonishment.

"Don't get close to him. He’s dangerous!"

Looking at the mangled mess of flesh, the black man felt a tremor in his heart—a warning born of primal instinct.

"Oh, god! He’s actually still alive. This is incredible!"

The white man stared at the body, the rich, fragrant aroma of blood filling his nostrils. His ghostly green eyes were filled with craving and greed; every cell in his body seemed to be cheering, urging him to pounce and tear into the flesh of the corpse.

"Bang! Dammit, get back, you beast driven by instinct!"

Seeing his companion’s restlessness, the black man landed a heavy punch on his face and roared. Unlike these rookies who had only recently been turned, he was an old Lycan who had lived for hundreds of years. He had seen many things, but he had never encountered such a unique life form.

Even with the perverse vitality and regenerative powers of the Lycan race, losing half one’s body would be a certain death sentence. Yet, this creature was still alive.

Moreover, the fragrant scent of that creature's blood was lethally attractive to creatures of darkness like them. It felt as if their very cells were demanding they seize that flesh. Such a magical life form was nothing short of a miracle; in his long life of several hundred years, he had never come across such a thing.

"Don't go near him. We should leave; the Death Dealers will be catching up soon."

The black man called out to his companion, fighting back the temptation, and prepared to lead them away.

"No... Raze, can't you feel your cells cheering? This is an incredible life form. His flesh is so fragrant. I have a feeling that if we could eat him, our power might even surpass Lucian's. I won't let this opportunity slip away."

Pushing the leader aside, another tall, thin black man edged closer to the corpse.

"You bastard... are you trying to betray Lucian?"

"No... Raze, I don't mean to betray Lucian. It's just that we Lycans are far too weak right now. We need power to contend with those hybrids hiding in the shadows, afraid of the light. I've had enough of this life hiding in dirty sewers. When will our race ever have its day in the sun?"

Facing the leader's threat, the tall, thin man remained resolute, his beastly eyes filled with rage as he growled.

"Croak... gurgle..."

Perhaps sensing the man's hostility, a deep, toad-like sound suddenly echoed from the corner. A flesh-colored tongue lashed out from the darkness like lightning.

"No... what is this monster! Awoo..."

The tall man, snatched up by the tongue, was shocked. Black fur sprouted from his skin as he transformed, his size swelling. He dug his sharp wolf claws into the tongue, struggling and tearing, but his usually infallible claws had no effect. Like a helpless infant, he was dragged into the dark abyss.

"Ent... get out of here! Quickly..."

The leader shouted tentatively into the dark corner. Seeing no response from his companion, his expression shifted, and he urged the others to flee.

"Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh..."

Before they could move, a massive suction force erupted from the dark corner, instantly sweeping them up.

"NO! Don't..."

"Oh... damn it!"

"Awoo..."

Gazing into the bottomless pit, the men were swept away. Their vaunted strength felt useless; they transformed into giant man-wolves, flailing in the air in utter despair.

"Leave the leader. I have questions for him!"

Just as the burly black man was falling into the abyss in despair, he heard a voice speaking dry, unfamiliar English.

"Who are you people? Where is this? And I believe I heard you mention Lucian earlier."

Only then did the black man see the true face of the "black hole." It was no hole at all—it was the gaping maw of a giant toad. Most bizarrely, the creature had three legs and was covered in golden circular patterns.

"Are... are you the one speaking?" the black man asked cautiously, looking at the heaving torso beside him in horror.

"Answer my question!"

"We... we are the Lycan race. This is London, England! Lucian is our leader."

Hearing the impatience in that voice, a chill shot up the black man's spine. His heart contracted, and not daring to waste a single word, he answered the questions immediately.

"Lucian... Underworld... Hahaha... how interesting. Lucian, is it? Take me to see him!"

Upon hearing the name, Li Yang was overjoyed.

He had naturally watched *Underworld* in his past life. To him, the vampires and werewolves were truly pathetic races, but the utility of the "Corvinus Strain" or the "Perfect Blood" sparked a monumental plan in his mind.

According to the film, this blood could synthesize any virus or gene harmful to the body, forcing the host to evolve. The original, first-generation bloodline granted immortality, and power would grow with age.

In Li Yang's view, the original immortality was a dominant gene, while the descendants' were recessive, requiring external stimuli. Alexander Corvinus's two sons had simply wasted that potential, turning into these limited werewolves and vampires. It was a complete waste.

Of course, from the film, he could see that this mutation was uncontrollable. Perhaps it was because the energy in the sons' genes was insufficient, leading to the vampire and werewolf mutations. After all, biological transformation requires energy; the stronger and more potent the life form, the more energy is needed for the change. Even vampires needed their own blood as a catalyst to sire offspring.

"This... alright..."

The black man hesitated, but feeling a gaze that felt like a physical weight upon him, his body stiffened, and he gritted his teeth and agreed.

"Lead the way."

Watching the man transform into a werewolf and sprint into the night, Li Yang willed the Golden Toad to sweep him up, and they gave chase.

Since escaping Master Zhang's control and falling into the dimensional storm, Li Yang had passed out. He didn't know how long it had been until he woke up two days ago, but his injuries were so severe that he had fallen back into a deep slumber shortly after.

His injuries were twofold: the sealing talisman of the old Daoist Qingxu, which locked away his mana, and being bisected by the dimensional storm.

As the saying goes, "a centipede dies but never falls." If not for the immense vitality of the Six-Winged Golden Centipede and the residual energy of the Qingyuan Fruit in his stomach, he would have died in the spatial turbulence long ago.

He hadn't expected the storm to blow him from the North Sea all the way to England. Such a distance was impossible to cover in a short time even if he were fully healed, let alone in his current state, crippled and devoid of mana.

Most importantly, he had stolen Master Zhang's Dragon Essence. Given the nature of the Longhu Mountain sect, they would never let him go easily and might even trace the clues back to Zhao Yuehua and the others.

Li Yang felt anxious, but he knew panic wouldn't solve anything. With his current cultivation, returning would be suicide. He had lived two lifetimes; he possessed at least that much sense.

Although he didn't know Zhao Yuehua's exact identity from his past life, he knew that anyone who could make a figure like the Earth Immortal Purple Void Daoist wary could not be simple. Thus, he wasn't overly worried about her safety.

What he feared most was Master Zhang losing all shame and targeting the Ren family. That would be catastrophic.

...

"This is it!"

Following the black man, they arrived at a dark, damp sewer. Smelling the foul air, Li Yang couldn't help but frown.

Given this environment, only a race as hardy as the Lycans could survive here; an ordinary human would likely not last long.

"Raze... you're back. Where are Ent and the others?"

"They have other business to attend to... I came back first."

Brushing off the inquiries of his companions along the way, the black man looked for the black-clad figure beside him, only to find he had already vanished, leaving him full of confusion.