Chapter Seventy-Three: The Rite of Transformation

The colossal, ancient, and mysterious structure was built from massive blocks of marble, forming a tower that stretched toward the heavens. Twelve distinct pillars, each engraved with archaic runes, stood arranged in a specific order throughout the architecture’s corners.

This was the birthplace of vampires, and the Hall of Eternal Night that Deacon Frost had spent over twenty years seeking in the films.

Gu Zhongyan greedily surveyed every corner of the palace. This edifice, which had withstood the ravages of millennia, was the ultimate testament to the magical prowess of the great sorcerer Varna—its value as a reference even surpassed that of the Vampire Bible.

Upon an altar encircled by the twelve pillars, a formidable magical force pulsed, perceptible only to those versed in the arcane arts. The drifting magical energies in the air, guided by the runes, converged ceaselessly into the twelve pillars, awaiting the commencement of the ritual.

Twelve pureblood vampires had already been bound beneath the pillars, gazing anxiously at Gu Zhongyan in the center of the altar, ignorant of the fate awaiting them.

At this moment, Blade, following Gu Zhongyan’s instructions, also stood at the altar’s center, still unable to grasp what Gu Zhongyan intended.

He made no effort to conceal his thoughts and asked openly, “Sorcerer, you went to great lengths to find this place and capture so many pureblood vampires—what is it that you hope to achieve?”

“Are you planning to use this place to create the Vampire Blood God?” Blade asked, his brow furrowed.

“Blood God?” Gu Zhongyan replied with a playful smile and shook his head. “No, you misunderstand. I plan to transform this group of vampires into another kind of being—one inherently designed to counter vampires.”

“There are too many vampires in this world, and for various reasons, humanity cannot confront them directly.”

“But I refuse to let these creatures run free, so I intend to start at the source of vampirism and see if I can find a way to eradicate them.”

“The Hall of Eternal Night was the place where the original vampire progenitor, Varna, transformed his own bloodline. If I can reverse this ceremony and incorporate my own magic, perhaps I can create the ultimate weapon to destroy vampires.”

“If this experiment succeeds, the threat of vampires will be reduced to a minimum.”

As he spoke, Gu Zhongyan pointed to the stone coffin at the center of the altar. “Enough questions. Even if I harbored ill intentions, you could do nothing to stop me. Get into the coffin—I am ready to begin.”

Blade hesitated, frowning and wanting to speak, but finally, he said nothing and obeyed, lying down in the stone coffin.

Sensing the same power as Varna’s, the coffin suddenly sealed itself. An invisible force instantly cut across Blade’s limbs, and his blood, imbued with mystical energies, began to seep out slowly.

Upon seeing this, Gu Zhongyan raised his wand and chanted an ancient, mysterious incantation.

Magical power surged forth, intertwining with the ever-present runes of the Hall of Eternal Night.

Crimson lines spread across the immense structure, like veins of living blood, crawling over every surface and finally reaching out to the pureblood vampires bound to the pillars.

The pureblood vampires watched in despair as the red patterns crept over their bodies, starting at their fingertips and toes, relentlessly spreading and entwining them.

Like insects ensnared in a spider’s web, the twelve pureblood elders struggled in vain against the tightening scarlet threads. In moments, they were each encased in a cocoon of blood-red silk.

At the heart of the altar, the stone coffin flared with a dazzling crimson light, unleashing a surge of magical energy. Above the towering Hall of Eternal Night, thunderclouds gathered, lightning converged, and with a deafening crash, the heavens roared.

Lightning is both destruction and creation; ancient life is born within the ashes of thunder and fire.

Under the storm’s fury, a terrifying silver-white radiance followed the blood-red veins, pouring into each cocoon. The pureblood vampires within began to howl and weep in agony.

Gu Zhongyan lowered his wand, and at some point, a crystal skull, clear as ice, appeared in his hand.

The skull, exquisite as a work of art, emanated an eerie glow, as if capable of absorbing souls—no one who looked upon it could tear their gaze away.

In a strange, haunting tone, Gu Zhongyan chanted. The crystal skull floated into the air, releasing a powerful psychic force that poured into the twelve blood-red cocoons.

The twelve pureblood vampires felt an immense force flood their minds—the ancient collective will of countless Native Americans crashed into their souls, eroding their spirits.

As the cocoons’ glow faded, the howls ceased, and the vampires fell silent, as if their souls had been stolen away.

Indeed, their present state was little different from being soulless. Under the influence of the crystal skull, their minds were now blank slates, vulnerable to any command.

With the last glimmer from the cocoons extinguished, Gu Zhongyan set down the crystal skull and picked up a wooden rod.

This seemingly ordinary stick was acquired during his last transaction with Nick Fury.

Among the five magical items, only the wooden rod and the cauldron had unknown origins and uses—Nick Fury himself was ignorant of their true nature.

But for Gu Zhongyan, mysteries posed little challenge. In the mystical arts, so long as no special force shielded an item, its history could always be traced through magic.

This rod was the legendary Druid’s Staff, possessing the power to summon the forces of nature and the earth, to unleash tremendous life energy, and to commune with living beings.

As for the cauldron, it too was extraordinary—none other than the alchemical cauldron of Angus, the Celtic god of love and magic, a genuine artifact.

Though its quality was inferior to renowned artifacts like Thor’s Hammer, the Spear of Eternity, or the Casket of Ancient Winters, it was still linked to divinity and thus held considerable value.

With a wave of the wand, the latent life force of the earth gathered instantly. As Gu Zhongyan stamped his foot, a surge of life energy spread out with a peculiar rhythm, merging into the blood-red cocoons.

At the same time, the power hidden within the Hall of Eternal Night intertwined with the magical essence in Blade’s blood. Ancient darkness was released, mingling with radiant life, all converging in the cocoons.

At last, when these forces reached their peak—

Bang!

With a thunderous explosion, the first blood-red cocoon burst open, and a chill swept through the entire Hall of Eternal Night.

Whistler’s eyes widened as, from within the cocoon, a tall, eerie, and mysterious being slowly floated out.