After a week of bitter cultivation, each cycle of qi a monotonous, mind-numbing effort inside the silent dark of the coffin, Cade had used up most of his precious blood essence reserves. The results, however, were worth the feeling of depletion. He had profited immensely, a final, shuddering surge of power breaking him through into the late stage of Blood Transformation. While he was already on the cusp, it was still a relief to see that the blood of a middle-stage Rank 1 beast continued to be somehow effective.

  He could now finally utilize another useful ability he learned from the Book of Life: a form of internal insight. This wasn’t an offensive skill, but a meditative one, allowing an Asura to observe their own physique in the form of a detailed life projection within their realm of consciousness. Through this technique, it was possible to notice even the smallest, most subtle changes happening inside their body.

  That was how he had first spotted them: tiny, multicolored spherules, like captive nebulae adrift in the crimson sea of his circulatory system. There were around a hundred of them so far. More than half flowed in his blood, while the rest were spread out, embedded deep within the fibers of his muscles and the marrow of his bones.

  “What the hell is that?” Cade exclaimed in surprise, his brows drawing into a tight, concerned knot as he stared at the impossible objects within his own internal vision.

  Cade immediately pulled out the Book of Life, and began flipping through the pages in search of anything that could explain what he was looking at. Even though he must have read through the Blood Transformation section at least ten times, he still could have missed something. Alas, after going through every single line of text and every intricate diagram many times over, he found nothing.

  He focused the projection on one of the spherules, magnifying the view, and that was when he noticed something peculiar. Each one radiated a strange, otherworldly energy, though it was only barely detectable. When he tried to push his insight deeper, to probe the very heart of the orb, a tremor of pure, instinctual terror shot through the core of his being—his soul, perhaps. It screamed a silent warning. Something ancient and vast slumbered inside that tiny point of light, something ready to wipe him from existence if disturbed.

  Cade immediately retreated from his realm of consciousness, breaking through the clutches of terror. He sat bolt upright, breathing deeply, and wiped a sheen of cold sweat from his forehead.

  Concerned—but also powerfully intrigued—he lay down on the bed to think the matter through properly. Mindlessly tapping the wooden frame, Cade pondered this unexpected development. Since this was the only physical abnormality he had detected that wasn’t covered in the Book of Life, then logically, this could very well be the source of his incredible growth.

  By default, the Blood Transformation realm was the easiest to push through. As long as an Asura’s aptitude wasn’t poor, they would encounter no bottlenecks. Advancing was mostly a matter of gradually accumulating energy. That being said, its benefits were also rather limited. They mostly came down to improved endurance and a slightly tougher body, with the addition of being able to rapidly regenerate smaller wounds. It was a preparational realm, focused on accumulating blood qi and growing the voracious heart’s ability to condense it.

  In his case, however, during his brief cultivation history he had already grown faster, stronger, and his body was definitely a lot more durable. He could also use the blood qi ignition technique to a greater degree than the Book of Life suggested should be possible, with little downsides, as long as he didn’t push himself too hard.

  Whatever these spherules were, it was obvious they offered immense benefits. Since he couldn’t do anything about them, Cade decided to not concern himself with them for now.

  He stood up from the bed and threw on a brown, nondescript robe he had picked up the day before, then covered his head with a wide-brimmed conical hat and left the inn.

  It was the first time he had trod the narrow streets of Kettle on his own, and the city didn’t fail to astound him once again. It was almost unnaturally clean, and the people he passed were rarely carrying anything, not to mention pulling any sort of carts, as storage artifacts were prevalent. This was in stark contrast to Sacrament City, which, depending on the area, stunk of mostly yeasty beer, urine, excrement, or all of these combined. Some streets there were so covered in filth, it was a health hazard to even attempt passing through them.

  Another thing that was different was the presence of the homeless, or rather, the utter lack of any. In Kettle, homelessness didn’t exist. You either lived and worked in the city, or you came here to trade. For the truly unlucky, a third possibility also existed—they could become the ones being traded.

  At an expense of a few copper coins, Cade got access to the city-wide, low-cost transportation formations. With their help, he quickly reached the Servitor Square. He didn’t know what to expect, but it certainly wasn’t this.

  It was a contradictory sight.

  The whole area was luxurious and clean. The slaves were presented on long, rectangular platforms built of expensive stone and walled off from the sides. Such opulence was something he associated with high nobility and their extravagant mansions. Golden columns rose up from each platform, supporting another platform above it, with some buildings reaching five or six floors. Finally, each structure was topped with a tiled roof covered with small, silver shingles. No platform was exactly the same, but they all seemed to follow similar material choices. Cade noticed a small, numbered residential building adjacent to every structure; he assumed this was where the slave traders resided.

  It was the people who lent this whole area a profoundly miserable atmosphere. They were linked together with thick, dark chains, and even from a distance, Cade could sense a faint energy-draining field emanating from their blackened loops. Those people, mostly young beastborn, appeared hopeless, detached, and incredibly sad. Many were also hurt; many more wailed or struggled uselessly against the chains, unable to accept their fates. Nobody cared about what they did, or even bothered to interact with them, and so the whole place was filled with wailing, cursing, and the endless, grating rattle of metal against metal.

  You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

  “This is what hell must be like,” Cade mumbled, deeply moved by the suffocating aura of ever-present suffering. I bet this is where Gris was leading us.

  Following that thought, Cade experienced a great sense of relief. He had made the right decision by crashing the disc. Whatever was going on here, all these poor people were terrified to their cores. This implied they were at least partially aware of what was awaiting them, and it couldn’t have been anything good.

  Cade spent most of the day walking around the numerous platforms, witnessing more of the same wherever he went. By the time he returned to the inn, he was mentally and emotionally drained, and fell asleep almost instantly. For the next seven days, Cade divided his time between coffin cultivation and visits to the Servitor Square, which he didn’t look forward to. It was on the eighth day that his search finally yielded a rather unexpected result.

  So far, a vast majority of the slaves Cade had seen belonged to the beastborn race. They were widespread throughout the Verdant Sea, their tribes constantly warring with each other. Slavery was as common between the various beastborn sub-races as it was in the Servitor Square. It could even be said it was an element of their culture.

  However, on the eighth day, Cade stepped into an area filled with a number of human slaves, and that was when he noticed someone familiar.

  A young, handsome man with a ponytail, wearing a yellow set of robes, strutted out of one of the smaller buildings with a big smile plastered all over his face, swaggering right past Cade.

  “Well, well. Who have we here,” Cade murmured, his lips stretching in an unpleasant smile.

  He followed the youth for a while, maintaining his distance, and going through several transportation formations before entering a rather quiet neighborhood. It was getting dark, the streets were mostly empty, and Cade didn’t need to think twice before using this to his advantage. Finally, after gradually losing hope for a stealthy confrontation, he encountered an opportune moment, with not a single soul in the vicinity. He moved faster than an arrow, instantly appearing behind the yellow-robed man, grabbing him by the throat and snatching him into a dark, narrow alley.

  “Try to scream and you’ll find out what reincarnation is all about. Do you understand?” Cade spoke slowly in a quiet, measured voice, pushing the man against the stone wall. After his recent progress, manhandling someone in Qi Condensation didn’t take much effort, even if that person was at the great circle.

  Wide-eyed, King Dong wanted to struggle at first, but when he looked into Cade’s viper-like eyes and smelled a faint odor of blood, he abandoned all ideas of resisting. Instead, the bandit attempted to nod zealously, but due to the immovable grip on his neck, his head ended up twitching like he was having a fit.

  Cade loosened his hold on King’s windpipe just a bit, and the latter took a deep breath of relief, smartly opting to stay quiet.

  “What I need is information. Provide it to me, and I’ll let you go. Let’s not talk about what happens if you don’t. Use your imagination,” Cade spoke slowly and steadily. A little intimidation worked wonders. King Dong instantly appeared eager to help and not very keen to imagine anything other than sleeping in his own bed that night.

  “List all the humans involved in the local slave trade that you know of.”

  What quickly followed was a long list of names, none of which meant anything to Cade, until King Dong recited a familiar one.

  “…Griswold Brightheart…”

  On the outside, Cade’s eyelid barely twitched, but internally, he was shocked and enraged. A few breaths of time later, King had run out of names, with another Brightheart, this time a woman—Veronica—appearing in the mix. After finishing, he awaited his captor’s reaction with a fearful expression.

  In the meantime, Cade forced himself to regain composure. When King spoke that name, his jaw tensed so hard he nearly cracked several molars.

  “Did you just say ‘Brightheart,’ as in the Brightheart Empire?” Despite Cade’s best efforts in toning it down, his voice still overflowed with killing intent.

  “Y… Yes, junior reports two Brighthearts from the young generation, brother and sister, are pretty deep into slavery, though as far as I know, they only buy, not sell. It started four, maybe five years ago. Some merchants tried to entice the Brighthearts into selling them a few h… humans, but I don’t know if the siblings ever did,” King stuttered out in a shaky voice.

  “Why would the merchants want humans specifically? I need details,” Cade demanded in a grim voice.

  “Uhm, S… Senior probably doesn’t know, but young humans make some of the best cultivation furnaces. Human souls are immortal, unlike the souls of beastborn, who cannot reincarnate. Refining even one human gives a much better chance of advancing by two stages. Higher cultivation is better, but at that age they’re usually in Qi Condensation or Qi Saturation, so the s… stage doesn’t make much difference,” King answered, stumbling nervously as his forehead dripped with sweat.

  As he listened to the man’s words, Cade kept internally repeating his father’s calming mantra over and over again.

  “Did you capture and sell people as well?” he asked straightforwardly, staring into the man’s wide-opened eyes.

  “No! Senior, please, one of the main reasons I left my family is because of my father’s involvement in the beastborn trade. That’s a surefire way of getting all the beastborn to hate you, and I want to live. I, King Dong, love life more than I love crystals!” terrified King Dong mostly forgot how to stutter and a torrent of words exploded from his mouth. “I was visiting my uncle just now, who works as a guard for one of the merchants. He owed me a small debt, that’s all. I’m an honest m… I mean, I don’t want to die.”

  Cade knew that King Dong wasn’t lying because of something he had recently discovered about his life sense. It granted him a vague impression of people’s emotions, allowing him to detect if someone was trying to trick or mislead him. Their emotional signature would fluctuate in a very particular, discordant way. It didn’t necessarily allow him to recognize every single lie, especially if there were many, but it was enough to sense a clear intent to deceive.

  He slowly unclenched his hand from King’s throat. “Alright. Sit and calm down,” he said in a tone that accepted no refusal, but a lot of the hardness was gone.

  King Dong plopped down where he stood, not even bothering to look under his feet. Breathing heavily, he wiped the sweat off his forehead.

  “Now tell me everything you know about the Brighthearts and the human trade.”