Inside his quiet room, Wang Ming sat cross-legged on his bed, eyes closed, cultivating in silence. The air was calm, still, almost meditative.
A knock on the door broke the stillness. From outside came a voice, respectful and clear.
"Young Master, some guards have arrived outside the mansion. They've delivered a letter addressed to you personally… and also brought two large boxes."
Wang Ming slowly opened his eyes, the calmness in his gaze undisturbed by the news.
"Bring it in," he said. "The letter and the boxes as well."
At his command, the door creaked open. His maid stepped inside, holding a letter with both hands, her posture respectful. Behind her, several guards entered, carrying not two, but three heavy boxes, all firmly sealed.
They placed the boxes carefully on the floor and exited the room silently, leaving only Wang Ming and his maid behind.
Wang Ming extended his hand toward her without a word.
Understanding his gesture, the maid walked forward and placed the letter in his hand, bowing slightly. Then she stepped back, standing still, silent, not daring to disturb him further.
He unfolded the letter and read it thoroughly, his expression unmoving throughout. Once he finished, his qi surged, and with a flick of his fingers, several translucent qi swords formed in the air and shredded the letter into a hundred fluttering pieces of paper.
He cast a glance toward his maid.
"The captain of the guard team that delivered these items will live here from now on. Make sure they're well taken care of."
His tone was calm but firm. Then, after a brief pause, he added, "One more thing. I'll be going out tomorrow. Remember to wear good clothes."
With a gentle wave of his hand, he signaled for her to leave.
The maid, upon hearing his final instruction, couldn't help but reveal a bright expression. She clearly understood what he meant. This wasn't just a casual outing—being told to dress well meant her status in the household was rising. Bowing respectfully, joy written all over her face, she turned and quietly left the room.
Wang Ming didn't pay her any more attention. His gaze shifted toward the boxes resting on the ground. He walked over and opened one of them. Inside, glimmering softly in the dim light, were neatly arranged spiritual stones.
A faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips.
"So, the goods have arrived," he murmured. "It's time to begin my plan…"
He knelt down, eyes focused. "To create a formation," he thought, "requires both deep attainment in the Dao and a vast supply of spiritual energy especially when making the first mark."
He followed the Dao of Slaughter. In this path, attainment was determined by two things: will and comprehension.
One of these—comprehension was already his, carried over from his first life. And now, after reaching the first level of the Formation Apprentice Realm, his sea of consciousness also housed the will of a rank one formation apprentice.
With this, he possessed the potential to create an advanced-level formation. All he had lacked until now… was spiritual energy.
And now, that too had arrived.
Wang Ming opened all the boxes. He took out the spiritual stones and began arranging them meticulously on the ground. First in a large circle… then drawing connecting lines between the stones. Within the circle, the pattern took shape,an eerie face, smiling with twisted malice.
Wang Ming sat at the head of that face, his posture calm, composed. He formed a triangle with his fingers, a hand sign glowing with power.
As soon as he did, spiritual energy began to pour in toward him from all directions, gathering with increasing intensity.
His smile deepened.
Then, from the depths of his sea of consciousness, a small manifestation of his will—just two to three centimeters in size emerged and floated above his head. It shimmered faintly, absorbing all the incoming spiritual energy and synchronizing perfectly with the hand signs Wang Ming made one after another.
This process continued for half an hour. The air within the room became thick with energy, every breath charged with spiritual power.
Finally, Wang Ming's eyes snapped open.
The spiritual energy halted, and in the space above his head, a pattern identical to the one he sat on appeared, floating like a sigil in front of his will.
Wang Ming's lips curled into a satisfied smile.
Without hesitation, he stood up and walked over to his desk. From a drawer, he took out an empty book its pages blank, waiting.
He tossed the book toward the floating formation mark.
The moment the book made contact, it gleamed with crimson light. The book and the sigil began rotating together in an elliptical orbit, radiating a strange, ominous aura.
After a full minute, the rotation stopped.
Only the book remained, floating midair. Its cover now bore a vivid red face,a face twisted into the same chilling smile as the formation.
Wang Ming reached out and grabbed it. The book felt familiar in his hand, its weight just like the one he'd once found in the secret cave of the Wang Clan—only the color was different.
He looked down at the cover, eyes calm and cold.
"It's ready," he said softly. "The Blood Sacrifice Array."