Chapter 124: The Final Ritual of Blood Pact Deepening

The moment Shen Yan’s foot pressed down on the first step, the instant his sole made contact with the stone brick, a high-frequency tremor shot straight up his bones and into his skull. His vision blurred, and a waterfall of code suddenly exploded in his sight—countless lines of “Source Code Spiritual Root.exe loading core module” scrolled frantically. In his ears echoed Ye Shi’er’s haunting whisper: “You were supposed to be the System.”

“Damn it, again?” He squeezed his eyes shut and swiped his finger across the phone screen. “Silent mode, initiate!”

The terminal interface switched accordingly, external audio input was forcibly cut off, and the auditory hallucination in his ears abruptly ceased. Yet, the buzzing inside his skull persisted, as if a thousand needles were pricking him.

Just then, his wrist grew warm. Luo Li grabbed him, her fingertips carrying a faintly cool Demon Power that seeped into the Blood Pact patterns, like a data line conducting electricity in reverse, pulling him back from the brink of collapse.

“Don’t force it,” she said in a low voice. “You almost compiled yourself into an infinite loop just now.”

Shen Yan gasped for breath and forced a bitter smile. “I was just afraid of missing a bug. Turns out, I became the biggest bug myself.”

Luo Li didn’t respond, only stared at the dim red glow at the end of the staircase, her pupils narrowing into slits. The children’s rhyme carried by the wind still echoed, intermittent, like an old cassette tape getting stuck.

Yu Xiaotang stumbled up the steps, leaning against the wall, her face as pale as paper, yet she managed a strained smile. “This song… I think I heard it when I was little? But whose child sings ‘data reset, soul reboot’ as a lullaby?”

“A brainwashing program from the Shadow Erosion Organization,” Shen Yan narrowed his eyes. “Probably part of Ye Shi’er’s batch formatting package.”

“Then you better be careful,” Yu Xiaotang reached out and patted his shoulder, her fingertips icy cold. “If the system identifies you as an illegal user, it might remotely log you out.”

Just as Shen Yan was about to retort, the stone step beneath his feet suddenly lit up with a circle of runes. Purple-gold light flowed upward along the patterns, as if some kind of authentication protocol was activating.

“The passage is open,” Luo Li whispered. “From here on… it’s time to get serious.”

Shen Yan frowned. “What do you mean?”

Before he could finish, Luo Li had already acted. She tore open her outer robe, revealing the dense, ancient contract patterns covering her arms and spine—these lines weren’t drawn but deeply embedded in her flesh, like living code, shimmering with an eerie blue glow in the dim light.

“What are you doing?” Shen Yan took half a step back.

“Did you think the Blood Pact of a Demon Clan princess was just for show?” She sneered, bit the tip of her tongue, and spat out a mouthful of essence blood. Suspended in the air, it instantly condensed into a complex formation diagram. “Star-Heart Convergence Pact, initiation condition—complete bloodline imprint sacrifice.”

Shen Yan’s pupils contracted sharply. “Wait! Isn’t this technique legendary… failure results in soul annihilation?”

“That’s why you need to stand here,” she raised her hand and pointed. The blood formation expanded with a roar, enveloping both of them. “Your Source Code Spiritual Root is the Heavenly Programming Core, my demon blood is the key. Now—I’ll help you plug in the power.”

As her words fell, she suddenly grabbed Shen Yan’s hand, her nails slicing through his skin. The moment their blood mingled, a translucent operating interface materialized in the air—black background with green text. On the left was a real-time spiritual energy fluctuation curve, and on the right, constantly shifting permission level prompts: 【Current User: Guest → Verifying Identity…】

“Warning: Unauthorized biological access detected. Allow deep binding?” The System’s notification tone sounded.

Before Shen Yan could react, Luo Li shouted in a low voice, “Allow! In the name of the Demon Clan Princess, grant the highest administrative permissions!”

Boom!

The interface exploded into a surge of silver-purple light. Shen Yan felt his Spiritual Root tremble violently, as if millions of lines of Code were being executed simultaneously. His consciousness was forcibly pulled into a three-dimensional data space, where a massive structural tree unfolded before his eyes: the root directory labeled “Shadow Erosion,” with subfolders including “Memory Seal,” “Puppet Control Console,” “Cycle of Reincarnation Log”…

“Holy shit… is this the background management page?” he murmured.

“Stop staring blankly,” Luo Li’s voice sounded weak, blood seeping from her temple. “Hurry and choose a path. I can’t hold on much longer.”

Just as Shen Yan was about to operate, the Terminal suddenly displayed a full-screen notice:

【Final Command Confirmation】

Option One: Inherit the Demon Lord’s power (requires fusion with Devil Clan Bloodline)

Option Two: Destroy all data (clear the Shadow Erosion System)

“Only two choices?” His heart tightened.

“Of course.” A cold, clear female voice came from behind him.

Shen Yan froze. Ye Zhao had appeared at the edge of the Altar without him noticing, holding the Frost Soul Sword, its tip lightly pressed against the back of his neck, the chill piercing his skin.

“Choose wrong, and I’ll sever your Spirit Soul,” she said, her gaze sweeping over Luo Li’s pale face and pausing slightly.

“Are you two performing a double act?” Shen Yan forced a bitter smile. “One sacrifices, the other threatens—what do you take me for? A System installation guide?”

“I’m serious.” Ye Zhao never shifted her gaze. “Once you inherit the Demon Lord’s power, you might become the next Ye Shi’er.”

“But if we destroy the data, all the sealed memories, the possibility of resurrection, even Ye Shi’er’s lingering consciousness… everything will be reset to zero.” Shen Yan clenched his phone. “Including his last words—’This time, I’ll protect you.'”

The air froze.

Suddenly, Yu Xiaotang stumbled forward, tearing open her collar to reveal the last trace of Devil Blood patterns on her collarbone. She bit her finger and dripped blood onto the Terminal screen.

“Then don’t let his death be in vain,” she said, her voice trembling but carrying a hint of laughter. “My blood can still be used once more—is it enough?”

The screen trembled slightly, and the interface stabilized briefly.

Shen Yan stared at the two options, countless Images flashing through his mind: the rampaging light and shadow giant in the hotel, Yu Xiaotang struggling in the power plant’s mirror, Luo Li raising a Demon Power Barrier for him in the rainy night, Ye Zhao weaving a net with her sword to compile emotional signals that night…

And the child crying in the snow, writing Code, abandoned by the Celestial Clan in his past life.

“I don’t want to be a god, nor do I want to be the Heavenly Dao,” he whispered. “But I have to know the truth.”

He raised his hand, his fingertip hovering over the first option.

“Are you sure?” Ye Zhao’s sword tip pressed down slightly.

“Not sure,” Shen Yan smiled. “But what programmers fear least is—restarting if we click wrong.”

He pressed confirm.

In that instant, the world fell silent.

Yu Xiaotang’s body went limp, collapsing to her knees. The copper coin hair tie in her hand snapped, its fragments drifting toward the Terminal, merging into the corner of the interface, transforming into decorations for a new icon.

Luo Li’s knees touched the ground, the light in her Fox Tail extinguished, yet she still clung tightly to Shen Yan’s wrist. The Contract patterns flickered like circuits about to die out, emitting one last faint glimmer.

Meanwhile, Shen Yan himself stood motionless in place, his eyes suddenly shimmering with silver-purple Data Stream light, his body rigid, his breathing nearly ceasing.

The Terminal Interface slowly refreshed:

【Permission upgrade completed】

【User identity changed: Administrator】

【System name redefined: Heavenly Dao·Refactored Edition】

Ye Zhao slowly withdrew her sword, gazing at Shen Yan’s motionless figure. Her lips moved slightly, but in the end, she did not utter another word.

Deep within the Altar, the Children’s Rhyme suddenly changed its tune.

It was no longer a solo chant.

Instead, four voices intertwined—a young boy, a maiden, a youth, and an elder—humming the same melody in unison.

At the corner of Shen Yan’s mouth, a faint smile curled up without warning.

(End of Chapter)