The golden divine soul plainly had not expected Jared to unleash such a foul-mouthed ruffian. It froze for an instant, then thundered, “Insolence! I am an ancestor of the Barbaric Clan, how dare a demon lord like you profane me!”
“Ancestor?” Vermilion Demon Lord snorted and circled the soul once.
Suddenly jabbed a finger at a fissure in the armor and burst into laughter. “So that’s your grand legacy? Turns out the old sow from the neighboring beast race kicked you once and cracked your armor! Tsk tsk, how humiliating. When word gets out, how will your clan ever hold their heads high again?”
The divine soul’s golden light flared in fury, even the surrounding totems trembling. “Y-You… How do you know that?”
“Oh, I know plenty more!” Eyes bulging, Vermilion Demon Lord thrust his face close, demonic aura billowing. “With behavior like yours, you call yourself an ancestor? Believe it or not, I could take a leak and drown you right here!”
“W-Who in the world are you?” The ancestor of the Barbaric Clan stared at In growing dread.
“I am Vermilion Demon Lord,” announced, drawing out each syllable.
“V-Vermilion Demon Lord?” The ancestor’s eyes went round as plates.
“What, you’ve heard of me?” Vermilion Demon Lord asked.
“Of course! Millennia ago, you slaughtered tens of thousands of manly immortals in the Ninth Heaven battle. Who hasn’t heard your name?!” The ancestor’s tone turned admiring, almost flattering.
Hearing that, Vermilion Demon Lord actually looked a little embarrassed.
He chuckled, “A real hero doesn‘t harp on past glories. Like you, I’m just a divine soul now, my physical body’s long since gone. Since you know who I am, do me a favor. Let my buddy take all these treasures. Your Barbaric Clan is extinct, what use are they to a divine soul like you?”
Those words shattered the ancestor’s final bit of pride. It had not realized its entire clan had perished.
It looked at Vermilion Demon Lord‘s openly mocking, faintly menacing eyes, then at Jared’s half-smiling face, and understood it had met immovable opposition. It knew that if it refused, even this shred of its divine soul might not survive.
“Very well… The vault is yours. Only spare the foundations of our legacy. That way, when I restore my physical body, the Barbaric Clan will have a chance to rise again!”
With that, the ancestor turned into a streak of golden light and vanished into a stone stele deep within the vault, leaving not a ripple behind.
Jared watched the ancestor depart, then glanced at Vermilion Demon Lord, who stood hands on hips basking In triumph, and could not help but smile.
“Mr. Vermilion, I never imagined your name resounded so far and wide!” Jared enthused, pouring on the flattery as addressed Vermilion Demon Lord.
“Naturally, it does. I have no equal beneath Ninth Heaven!” Vermilion Demon Lord threw back his head and laughed, smugness gleaming in his crimson eyes.
With a mere flick of Jared’s spiritual sense, Vermilion Demon Lord’s divine soul was yanked back into his consciousness field in an instant.
“Damn it, couldn’t you let me stay out a little longer?” Vermilion Demon Lord cursed, his voice echoing inside Jared’s mind.
“I’m worried that hanging around outside too long will damage your divine soul, if that happens we won’t be able to rebuild you a body, and then we’ll both be in real trouble,” Jared replied.
Hearing that, Vermilion Demon Lord shut his mouth without another word.
Jared lifted his hand, and countless rare natural treasures, cultivation scrolls, and ancient spiritual tools whirled through the air before vanishing into his Storage Ring.
Among the haul, two items thrilled most: a Chaos Spirit Root still embedded In a jagged Chaos Stone, and a fragmentary scroll of the Barbarian Body-Refinement Manual, whose ancient aura hinted that the body-forging methods recorded upon it eclipsed those of the Ethereal Realm’s Archaic Body Cultivation by unknown multiples.
“With this Body Cultivation manual, my physical body is about to become even tougher!” Jared declared, putting the scroll away before fixing his gaze on the Chaos Spirit Root.
The root was clearly still alive; celestial energy pooled far thicker around it than anywhere else in the vault.
