Pirate Kingship
Chapter 51 - 50: Wait, what the hell is a tentacle fetish?

Chapter 51: Chapter 50: Wait, what the hell is a tentacle fetish?

"Smear the blood of the Transcendent on my forehead, watch over me, so I may draw closer to greatness..."

As Byron’s spell echoed through the alley.

The array was immediately filled with the intense smell of blood, far more than what could have been emitted by a single person.

It was the scent of ten, a hundred, a thousand people... The thick odor of blood filled his nostrils, as if he were soaking in a Blood Pool.

The Runes mixed within the hexagram twisted and deformed like blood coursing through malformed veins, bursting with blinding blood-red light.

Within the entire range of the Holy Grail of Blood ceremony, the visualized world was being stripped away and distorted.

The already crooked and twisted alley seemed to turn into a giant creature’s writhing esophagus, with the irregular cobblestones on the ground becoming a lumpy and sticky layer of tongue...

A sense of weightlessness, accompanied by waves of dizziness, assailed Byron’s brain.

It seemed that if he carelessly missed a step, he would slip down the esophagus and into the stomach of some colossal creature in one go.

Byron had already repeated the same operation five times. He was unmoved by the weird spectacle that was actually happening only on a mental plane.

In the real world, there was no blood-red sky.

It was just that the Anchor which bound him tightly to the Silver Law had tensed up without him noticing.

Obviously, the force pulling him downward was not just an illusion!

"Holy Grail of Blood, become tangible!"

Byron hastened to recite the final spell.

The blood-red light in the ritual lines immediately sprung to life, resembling countless blood-colored tadpoles with sharp teeth, or countless minuscule, almost imperceptible, insects.

They spread over the fresh Corpse of the Cyclops, and after a rustling sound, only a fist-sized essence of blood remained at the original spot.

Byron swiftly took the Cow Horn Cup—the Miracle: Warrior’s Cup—from his belt.

[Effect: One, the volume is much greater than it appears, able to categorically contain a massive amount of liquid, albeit limited to liquids only.

Two, can separate and consolidate various components within a liquid.]

He recited its command inscription:

"Spring Flow Inscription!"

During this time, the blood essence of the other five Transcendent victims who had died by his hand emerged.

They fell onto the other five points of the hexagram.

BUZZ—!

Six Transcendents, serving as sacrifices, each took their place, and the blood-red light within the ritual lines seemed to ignite.

They blazed fiercely and above the hexagram converged into a golden-red Holy Grail phantom, studded with gorgeous gemstones.

Visible to the naked eye, a fresh red liquid was slowly being poured into the chalice.

It was the Blood Brew—the Blood of Metamorphosis—meant to save Bruh!

Summoned by Byron’s gesture, a full cup of blood fell into the Cow Horn Cup in his hand. The ritual’s blood-red light collapsed thunderously.

The abstract world before him reverted back to its original normal state.

Looking at the Blood of Metamorphosis in the cup, Byron’s face revealed an unmistakable hint of delight.

This blood, like a base for other Blood Brews, required the flesh and soul of sentient beings.

Effect: Homogeneous metamorphosis; the direction of metamorphosis varies with different ingredients.

Unlike the stock that Salman had before.

This Blood of Metamorphosis, brewed from six First Order Transcendents, naturally radiated a faint blood-colored Divine Light.

It was high-quality Extraordinary Materials, incomparable to the mundane.

The lives of six First Order Transcendents in exchange for Bruh’s life should be more than sufficient.

Raising his left hand, he saw a chalice-shaped blood tattoo emerge in his palm.

This was a ritual symbol that had been solidified.

Initially, Salman, who had not obtained the complete forbidden knowledge, could only activate an extremely abridged ritual using Bloody Mary’s Gourmet Cookbook.

Every time he needed the Blood of Metamorphosis, he had to consume a specific chef through very complicated means, which was extremely inefficient.

Byron didn’t need all that trouble.

He aimed the Holy Grail in his palm at the two Pirates who had been knocked unconscious, uttering a simplified syllable:

"Fir!"

Familiar blood-red light erupted, instantly covering their bodies.

In just a few breaths, only two drops of suspended Blood of Transformation remained in their place.

Natural, green, free of pollution, and without needing Gus, the Sheriff, to clean up afterwards.

Although these two drops of Blood Brew were far from the quality of those made using Transcendents, they were the most convenient and readily available on the bloody and violent high seas.

Byron wouldn’t kill the innocent, but he felt no psychological burden in slaughtering his enemies.

He turned and walked out of the alley, never casting another glance at the assassination scene behind him.

I really like the Mad Hunt title you’ve given me, and indeed, blood and the Mad Hunt should be the standard match! Let’s continue to embrace the blood feast.

After fully deciphering Bloody Mary’s Gourmet Cookbook, Byron also came to understand the ascension system of forbidden knowledge when compared to the orthodox Ladder of Glory.

Black Sorcery, though it had broken through the constraints of the Silver Law, also had its own advancement path.

As his mastery of forbidden knowledge grew, the more Blood Brew he would successfully concoct.

He could even transform all his blood into the Blood of Metamorphosis or even the Crimson Spirit Light.

There would be no need for mixing drinks anymore; just a drop of his blood would achieve the effects of various exquisite Blood Brews.

If he could orchestrate the legendary complete final ritual of the Crimson Holy Grail, and brew a cup of the Blood of Immortality,

He would then be able to completely break through the shackles of humanity, gaining Power, speed, and reflexes far beyond Human limits.

Cure various Diseases in his body, or even... attain immortality!

In theory, he wouldn’t die due to Life exhaustion.

Simply put, there’s a corresponding ritual for every ascension node.

What kind of ritual you’ve conducted defines the level you can reach, gradually achieving the metamorphosis of the Life Essence.

Previously, Salman sought to walk this path by superficially learning from the Bloodthirsty Cult.

In the end, he couldn’t even achieve the pitiful state of a Ghoul.

Unlike the Ladder of Glory, which seems to be severely simplified, forbidden knowledge is more like what Extraordinary Power should truly be like. And moreover, we’re talking about immortality!

Byron couldn’t help but think of his great-uncle, the Mad King.

If he had ever drunk the Blood of Immortality and cured his hereditary mental illness, maybe none of this would have happened. If such a thing were to appear on the Continent, it would, just like the legendary Fountain of Youth, drive all Kings and Bishops mad.

It’s just that the final ritual isn’t in Bloody Mary’s Gourmet Cookbook.

Perhaps only by seeking out the Bloodthirsty Cult from which Salman defected would there be further gains.

Byron planned to reorganize Salman’s remains when he had the time, to see if he could find any clues.

Of course, even if he could find the complete ritual in the future, recreating it would inevitably require very strict conditions. And when he voluntarily leaves the protection of the Silver Law and delves deep into the study of forbidden knowledge, all the risks must be borne by him!

Risk? Side effects?!

At that thought, Byron shivered.

He remembered that he hadn’t yet checked what side effects he needed to deal with after conducting the ritual.

Gluttony! Lust!...

His heart couldn’t help but pound violently, BA-DUMP BA-DUMP.

He couldn’t enter a state of meditation to check his status; he could only prepare to sneak a peek at his Sailing Logbook as if he were approaching the gallows.

Suddenly,

SMACK SMACK...

Byron turned his head slowly.

He saw Gus sitting at the corner at the end of the alley waiting for him, and Eight Fingers, who had been in charge of logistics these days, each hungrily eating a skewer.

Eight Fingers had apparently brought late-night snacks for them for their hard work.

Even though it was only eight o’clock in the evening, and the street beyond was still filled with inebriated crowds,

wrapped in a dripping savory sauce, the curled red octopus legs seemed to bounce on the tongue as if they were still alive, tender and elastic.

Utterly tempting!

Utterly tempting?

GULP. "What are you two eating?"

Byron’s throat suddenly felt dry, his eyes drawn involuntarily towards the... grilled Squid in their hands.

He was completely unaware that in his Sailing Logbook, the side effects of his study of forbidden knowledge were showing.

One piece of good news, one bad news.

The good news was that Byron’s only negative effect was a mere one: tentacle fetish.

The bad news was that this peculiar predilection combined both Gluttony and Lust...