School Transmigration: I, Chosen as the Saint by Dragons at the Start-Chapter 104 --Blood Ritual Magic Array

Finn breathed a sigh of relief, his impromptu use of the comb having averted disaster.

"Fall back," he gestured to the Ambition Army with the comb, "Your presence is no longer required here."

The commanding officers exchanged glances, nodded respectfully at Finn, and then signaled their retreat.

The vast ghost army began to withdraw, much to the living observers’ relief.

They were saved.

Berkeley, patting his sweat-soaked back, remarked, "Your Highness, you should’ve mentioned you had this treasure earlier."

Finn, still recovering from the shock, replied, "Would you believe me if I said I was just trying my luck?"

Morton scoffed and sat down to rest, suspecting Finn had orchestrated the entire scenario to appear as the savior.

With the Ambition Army no longer a threat, their focus turned to the magic array, which still trapped them.

Finn eyed Quincy’s beast-headed staff embedded in the ground.

"Let’s see if we can pull that staff out." Berkeley shook his head, sighing, "It might not be possible. Quincy’s magic array seems peculiar, possibly beyond level 5. I’m at a loss."

As he studied the array, more runes under the Heavenly Thunder Magic Array lit up.

Unlike the ward, these were blood-red in color.

Moreover, the array’s design was ancient, some of the script even unreadable to Berkeley.

Upon closer examination, Berkeley’s eyes widened in horror.

Finn, sensing the tension, approached and asked anxiously, "What’s wrong?"

"This is a Blood Ritual Magic Array," Berkeley managed to utter through clenched teeth.

"Quincy is using us as sacrifices."

...

Owen moved swiftly, his powerful spirit scanning every direction in the western part of the city, reminiscent of a mine-sweeper.

Indeed, he stumbled upon a water prison.

The prison was eerily empty, with no prisoners in the cells, just some tables bearing drinks in a few rooms.

"Interesting, black protodragon has created a world with even prisoners," Owen mused to himself.

It was clear that black protodragon aimed to construct a realistic world, albeit one inhabited by ghosts.

Descending rapidly to the third subterranean level, Owen reached the water prison.

It was a gloomy and damp place, surrounded by cold stone walls with only a tiny hole allowing a sliver of light to penetrate.

Upon entering, Owen immediately saw Erin, her hands suspended by thick chains, immobile.

The water in the cell reached her waist, bone-chillingly cold.

Erin’s body shivered, her clothes soaked and clinging to her skin.

Her skin, pallid from prolonged immersion, contrasted with her lips, turned purple from the cold.

Erin’s eyes were tightly closed, her breathing rapid and shallow.

"Master..." she murmured, her thoughts still on Owen.

The air in the water cell was thin, making breathing difficult.

Each breath felt like a fiery pain in her lungs, as if every inhalation was a sacrifice of her own life.

With a determined spirit, one thought dominated her mind: "I must tell Master about Quincy’s true intentions, his plan to use us in a blood sacrifice."

This single thought kept Erin from succumbing to unconsciousness.

Visions began to dance before her eyes.

Erin saw the journey she had taken with Owen to the Grand Magus Academy, the beautiful landscapes they had witnessed, the various creatures they had encountered...

On a lovely meadow, Erin remembered looking up to touch a fluttering butterfly.

As her fingers grazed the butterfly, Owen stood behind her, whispering softly, "How beautiful!"

Erin heard those words, but she knew too well the disparity in their statuses.

She dared not reveal her true feelings.

A saint is destined to become the most powerful dragon between heaven and earth.

How could she dare hinder a saint’s future? She could only strive hard in the academy, spending her time in the library while others went out to explore and play.

While others joked around in the laboratory, she absorbed knowledge fervently, desperately trying to close the gap between her and Owen.

She longed to grow alongside Owen.

But now, it seemed, that opportunity was lost.

"Master... be wary of Quincy."

Erin kept repeating this phrase, her lips trembling as she saw Owen rushing towards her.

A faint smile formed on her lips, a desire to shed tears of relief.

She had envisioned this scene countless times, each filled with overwhelming emotion, tears streaming down her face.

But now, facing this very vision, she could no longer cry.

"Master... be wary of Quincy."

Owen’s eyes were bloodshot, arcanergy swirling in his hands as he swiftly cut through the chains binding Erin’s limbs.

She fell, and he caught her in his arms.

Warm, golden holy light flowed from his palms into her body.

"Erin, I’m taking you home," he said, his voice shaking.

Erin felt an enveloping warmth, a stark contrast to the prior cold, lulling her weary mind into a deep sleep.

"Master... be wary of Quincy," she murmured like in a dream, burying her head in the crook of Owen’s arm, drifting into unconsciousness.

Hearing her warning, Owen cradled Erin like a princess and slowly walked towards the exit.

His face was cold as ice, a massive aura of pressure spiraling around him.

The lone light source cast his shadow, immense and overwhelming.

But it wasn’t the shadow of a man – it was that of a gigantic, oppressive dragon.

...

Just as Owen emerged from the water prison, a strange bird landed in front of him.

Unperturbed, he recognized it as one summoned by black protodragon.

"He’s preparing the God Descending Spell. Your companions outside will be used as sacrifices and perish. Are you sure you won’t help me stop him?" the bird inquired.

Owen frowned, "A blood sacrifice?"

"Indeed. The magic array outside has an accompanying Blood Ritual Magic Array embedded beneath. If he succeeds in his prayer, the magic array will instantly drain the life and essence of your companions as a cost for the God Descending Spell. The agony is unbearable for any mortal."

Owen, unfamiliar with the events above, responded coldly, "No need to tell me, I will act on my own."

The bird seemed taken aback, glancing at Erin in Owen’s arms, "She’s just suffering from cold exposure and locked arcanergy. There’s no life-threatening danger."

"I know," Owen replied, already drifting forward. 𝓯𝙧𝓮𝓮𝒘𝓮𝙗𝙣𝒐𝒗𝒆𝓵.𝓬𝓸𝒎

Soon, he was not far from Quincy, who sensed his approach and looked towards Owen with a mix of concern and fear.

Owen carefully placed Erin under a tree, surrounding her with a protective barrier.

He then confidently strode towards Quincy.

Quincy sat on the ground, his tone urgent, "Owen, listen to me. I know you’re angry right now, but think about it. The Heart of the Ocean is right in front of us – a semi-divine artifact. There are less than thirty known divine artifacts in the whole of Novalia, and each of them is a clan treasure of the various races."

"Semi-divine artifacts are even rarer, with few ownerless ones in existence. Now, we have this opportunity right before us. If you attack me, the happiest entity here would be that black protodragon."

"If you’re willing to help me, I, on behalf of the sea race, promise that the Heart of the Ocean will be lent to the dragons for three hundred years. That time is enough to nurture countless talented individuals within the dragon race."

"The Heart of the Ocean also has life-extending properties. Your Dragon Elder Lindberg is nearly 7600 years old and at the brink of his limit in the grandmaster-tier. With the aid of the Heart of the Ocean, even if he can’t break through to the sage-tier, he could extend his life by a thousand years. Protecting your dragon race for a millennium – don’t you see the value in this deal?"

Owen continued to walk steadily, showing no sign of stopping.

Quincy grew more desperate.

"Owen," he bellowed, "Stop! If we obtain the Heart of the Ocean, I represent the sea race in offering the dragons eight hundred years of usage. How about that?"

Owen halted.

Quincy exhaled heavily, relieved.

He had thought Owen was principled, not realizing the offer wasn’t tempting enough.

Eight hundred years might seem long, but for the long-lived sea race, it was but a blink in time.

The black protodragon grew tense.

Quincy’s current manipulation of the God Descending Spell posed a significant threat.

If Owen were to join the battle, the situation would become unpredictable and uncontrollable.

Owen gazed intently at Quincy, his voice cold as ice: "Do you know what I despise most about you? Do you think you have everything under control, that it’s time to divide the spoils of war?"

"Do you believe that you’re destined to win, that I would stoop to your level of shamelessness, depravity, without any limit, even to the extent of sacrificing our kin for your own ends?"

Quincy’s expression of joy faded, replaced by a stoic facade: "Owen, you don’t understand the situation of the sea race. For the future of our race, what does their death matter? It is an honor for the sea race, and I dare say I’ve never had any personal motives."

"My life is also for the sea race."

Owen’s face remained unyielding: "Did you get their consent to sacrifice them for your blood ritual?"

Quincy’s expression twisted into a ferocious snarl, like a wild beast provoked: "It’s their fate!"