The Unvanquished: Child of Nihility-Chapter 51: Blade Dance

"Wait..." a sudden thought struck Morca, his pupils narrowing. "Did he also practice the Breathing Blood Codex?"

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He glance at Denis before calming down. It wasn’t surprising, really–not to Morca, at least.

If Denis was using the technique, then it made perfect sense. Morca had received the Breathing Blood Codex from his brother, Emmett Lee, but that didn’t mean it was a one-of-a-kind treasure.

As a mythical technique, rare and revered, there were bound to be other copy–perhaps one safeguarded in the Sherman family’s private library, or maybe held by the family head himself.

Still, as Morca observed Denis closely, something didn’t quite align. The flow of blood within Denis, the rhythm of energy coursing through him, wasn’t the same as when Morca practiced the technique. Yet the way Denis manipulated his life force was too familiar–too precise–to be coincidence. Morca was sure of it now.

Denis must be using a replica–a simplified version of the Breathing Blood Codex.

What Morca didn’t know, however, was that this very technique had once been the secret foundation of the Sherman family’s strength during the golden era of cultivation in Eden.

Back then, cultivation was the supreme path, and the Breathing Blood Codex had been passed down only to the most elite of Sherman warriors. But everything changed with the rise of the supernatural path. It wasn’t just a new method–it was a whole new reality.

Once the supernatural path was discovered, all prodigies were eager to choose a single road to walk. Naturally, the supernatural path became the favored choice because it was the strongest path of power–an evolution. And the Breathing Blood Codex couldn’t coexist with that new path. So, the family had adjusted.

They created a simplified version of the technique, designed not to replace cultivation, but to complement the supernatural affinity of their best talents–augmenting their powers, boosting their endurance, enhancing their abilities in battle. And the Shermans weren’t alone. Other ancient families followed a similar strategy, modifying their ancient techniques to align with modern power structures.

Now, in the present chaos, Denis had taken the role of assaulter, drawing the attention of the Dark Poison Fire Lizard. His relentless assault gave Tyler, who had been at her limit, some breathing room.

Her lungs burned, and her body screamed from exhaustion, but with Denis handling the lizard’s aggression, she could finally recover slowly.

Morca, observing from a short distance, shifted his gaze away from them. They were holding up just fine. Instead, his attention turned to the abyssal black cave not far ahead. His eyes narrowed. ’There are still more coming out.’

A wicked grin spread across his face as he launched himself forward, cutting through monsters like a shadow-blade whirlwind, his steps taking him closer and closer to the cave’s mouth. He moved like death given form–unrelenting and precise.

All across the battlefield, other trial candidates froze mid-combat. Eyes wide, weapons slack, their focus locked on the scene unfolding before them. They were supposed to be fighting 1-star+ and below monsters–creatures feared even by veteran cultivators. But what they saw now was something else entirely.

"Th... these... how is he that powerful?"

Their thoughts raced, trying to comprehend what they were seeing. Morca’s movements–his blade’s dance, the way he moved through the monsters, the fluid grace of each kill–none of it made sense. It was like watching someone cut grass. Swift. Easy. Unbelievable.

And then there was the aftermath–no blood, no bones, no remains. It was as if the monsters were being erased from existence, sent into some hidden space where nothing returned.

Morca had finally decided to reveal a sliver of his strength. In the storm of destruction he created, a peculiar thought surfaced in his mind:

’Good... this should keep me from getting all stained in blood.’

Although he like the scent of battle blood, but He hate how blood clung to him during battle–especially dried blood. It was sticky, itchy, and hard to wash off. But with his unique skill, Oblivion Blade, he didn’t have to worry about that anymore. He remembered returning from the DX1.5 dungeon, and how Emmett Lee had wrinkled his nose in disgust and said, "Don’t move. You stink awfully."

If the other trial candidates could read his mind, they’d be screaming. ’Who in their right mind thought about cleanliness during a slaughter?’

Soon, Morca stood before the cave’s gaping mouth. His expression turned grim. This was no ordinary place. His left eye, gifted with that mysterious perception, pierced a portion of the cave’s interior. He could make out swirling patterns etched on the walls, a faintly glowing spiral that led to a dead-end–no, not a dead-end. A portal.

It all made sense now.

The cave was spawning monsters through a rift–a gate to somewhere unknown.

Then, suddenly, something changed.

The dungeon itself responded.

The air trembled.

Dead trees shook. Dust and shattered stones lifted from the ground, floating as if gravity had vanished. A primal, ancient aura pulsed from the depths of the cave like a tidal wave. A bone-chilling cold swept through the battlefield, crawling down every spine–beast and human alike. Everyone–trial candidates, monsters... froze in place.

Stillness.

Eerie Silence.

And yet, the air boiled with tension. Dried brown sand, pebbles, and the bark of long-dead trees hovered unnaturally, drifting around like leaves on the edge of a storm.

"Wh...what is that?"

That was the unspoken question on every candidate’s mind. All eyes turned toward the cave.

Only one figure stood before it–Morca.

Some of the ancient families heirs were shocked. Wasn’t Morca just another awakened candidate fighting 1-star monsters like the rest of the trial candidate?

Even Tyler, his childhood friend, stared in disbelief. "Did he awaken an S-rank talent too? And that black blade... was it the one he mentioned?"

She remembered asking him once about his powers.

"You’ll find out during the academy trials," he had said with a smirk. "But I’ll give you a hint... it has something to do with blades."

A rare smile crept across Tyler’s lips.

Denis, still locked in battle, frowned deeply. "What is he doing there? And that aura... it seems like..." A memory surfaced, but he shook it off. He’d been there when Morca came out of the Constitutive Divine Awakening Pool. Sure, Morca had severed Grant’s hand with unnatural speed, but his aura had been calm–too calm. Back then, Denis had pegged him as a B-rank, maybe lower.

But now... he wasn’t so sure.

Others shared the same doubt. They suppressed it, but the pressure from the cave demanded their full attention.

Laura, hidden beneath her obsidian mask, looked toward the cave and felt something she hadn’t feel since she entered the trial dungeon–threat.

’Something is wrong... why do I feel threatened? And the thing that’s about to come out of that cave–could it be...’

If anyone could see her face beneath the mask, they’d notice a rare crease of worry.

Then it happened "...?"