The Sinful Young Master-Chapter 225: Tomb of the beast king - 6

Inside the obsidian pillar, Jolthar opened his eyes to find himself in a realm that defied physical laws. He stood upon a circular platform that hovered in the middle of a vast, dark void. He winced in pain as he adjusted his arm, but his gaze swept around the space he was in.

The platform itself seemed to be made of some crystalline substance that emitted a soft, emerald glow—the same colour as the Vaemani Stone.

Surrounding him in a perfect circle were towering pillars of green energy, each pulsing with a rhythm that reminded Jolthar of a heartbeat. The pillars stretched upward into infinity, disappearing into the darkness above.

"What is that?" he muttered.

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And at the centre of the platform stood what appeared to be a massive stone statue—a coiled serpent-dragon, a basilisk of impossible proportions. Its scales, though seemingly made of stone, captured what little light existed in this place and reflected it with an iridescence that suggested life rather than mineral. The statue's head rose high above Jolthar, its jaws partially open to reveal stone fangs the size of swords.

But it was the eyes that caused Jolthar's heart to skip a beat—not stone at all, but living orbs of emerald fire that fixed upon him with ancient intelligence.

The presence he felt was overwhelming, as though the very air around him was conscious and watching.

A voice resonated not in his ears but inside his mind, deep and powerful, like the rumbling of the earth before a catastrophic quake.

"What a splendid physique, child."

Jolthar opened his mouth to respond, but before he could form words, the pillars of green energy began to waver. Streams of luminescent power broke away from the columns and snaked through the air toward him. The energy engulfed his body, penetrating his skin, his muscles, his very bones.

Pain—sharp and immediate—lanced through his chest.

Jolthar fell to one knee, gasping.

The green energy swirled around him like living flame, lifting him slowly into the air. He hovered directly above the stone basilisk, his arms and legs splayed outward as though crucified on an invisible cross.

Inside Jolthar's body, beneath the physical realm of flesh and blood, another battle commenced in the spiritual plane of soul and essence. His consciousness retreated inward, finding itself in a vast, white space that represented his soul's domain.

But he was not alone.

Entering this sacred space was another entity—a massive, serpentine form composed of green and black energy, taking the shape of the basilisk he had seen as a statue. It was long and thick enough; it was in its spirit form, its body moving like a snake.

But here, it moved with delicate grace, its scales shifting and gleaming with power accumulated over centuries. Its eyes—those same burning emerald orbs—fixed upon the essence of Jolthar with predatory focus.

This was Na'rajina, the Beast King of old, his consciousness preserved within the pillar for centuries, waiting for the perfect vessel.

The perfect vessel being Jolthar, the beast king's sight fell on Jolthar, who had obtained the immortal physique basic through the chamber in the desert valley. Seeing Jolthar in the castle was like a boon to the beast king, and he waited for his chance and took it when the Hamen came down to the pillar.

The pillar obstructed everything, even the eyes of those deities upon in the clouds.

And in Jolthar, with his divinely resilient physique—what Na'rajina had recognized as an immortal physique basic—he had found his ideal host.

"For too long I have watched from my prison," Na'rajina's voice echoed through the soul space of Jolthar.

"For too long I have been forgotten, reduced to legend and myth. The Vaemani Stone—torn from my very being—used to enslave my children."

The serpentine form circled Jolthar's essence, tightening like a constrictor around its prey.

"Your body is perfect—tainted by divine influence and capable of channelling immense power. And your soul..." The basilisk's tongue flicked out, tasting the essence of Jolthar's being.

"Your soul is strong, but untrained. You cannot resist me."

Na'rajina laughed, a sound like avalanches and earthquakes combined. His essence began to merge with Jolthar's, green tendrils of the Beast King's consciousness infiltrating the pure white of Jolthar's soul.

Jolthar could only stare at the beast king's form. He couldn't even move or speak. It was like an ocean of darkness consuming him.

"The Deities themselves will tremble when I return," Na'rajina declared as he continued his invasion.

"Inadrys thought he destroyed me centuries ago, but he merely scattered my essence. Now I return, in a vessel even he cannot read."

Jolthar struggled against the intrusion, his untrained will fighting desperately against the ancient entity. But Na'rajina had centuries of experience and power. The emerald energy continued to consume the white space, turning Jolthar's soul domain into a sea of green flame.

"Do not fight, child," Na'rajina coaxed.

As Na'rajina's essence continued to consume Jolthar's soul space, the ancient Beast King's laughter echoed throughout the soul space. Green energy pulsed and expanded, pushing against the diminishing white light of Jolthar's consciousness.

"Your resistance is admirable but futile, child," Na'rajina's voice boomed.

"I have waited centuries for a vessel like yours. Your struggle only makes the victory sweeter."

Jolthar fought desperately, but with each passing moment, more of his soul space surrendered to the emerald invasion. His untrained spirit, though strong, was no match for the ancient power of the Beast King.

"Surrender now," Na'rajina continued, his basilisk form coiling tighter around Jolthar's essence.

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"Join me—become one with me as nourishment." The Beast King's voice rumbled like distant thunder, dripping with sinister amusement. "You are a blessed child, and I am even more fortunate to feast upon one such as you. But do not despair—I will put your body to greater use. With my power, I shall slay the deities and shackle humanity beneath my rule."

A deep, guttural laugh followed, reverberating through the air like a death knell.

Jolthar groaned, pain flaring through his body, but his fury burned hotter. He clenched his teeth, his voice laced with defiance and venom as he finally responded, "Get the fuck away from me, you pathetic snake bastard!"