NEC Chapter 2: Bloodline Sacrifice, Time to Call the Parents

Heavy footsteps echoed closer from the passageway above, and Chen Mo silently counted down in his head: “Three, two, one, zero!” Right on cu

Heavy footsteps echoed closer from the passageway above, and Chen Mo silently counted down in his head: “Three, two, one, zero!”

Right on cue, a raspy, grating voice boomed from the cave’s entrance: “Pet cleanup time’s over! Get out here and work!”

Minutes later, a dozen gaunt, ragged boys, so thin they could pass for skeletons from a distance, crawled out of the cave. Like a flock of sheep herded by a shepherd, they shuffled into the central hall of Black Crow Castle.

The castle’s central hall was vast, a key space where vassal mages taught and apprentices practiced and mingled.

On the eastern stone platform, the summons of official mages and apprentices were displayed: skeleton scythe soldiers, zombie cleaver hands, flame golems, and, at the center, an eye-catching black knight radiating explosive power.

It was damn impressive!

A few girls, housed aboveground, had arrived earlier and were already cleaning.

When Ellie saw Chen Mo enter, she flashed a shy smile, then lowered her head, her cheeks faintly flushed.

A chill ran through Chen Mo’s body.

If looks could kill, he’d be riddled with holes by now.

She’s really making sure I don’t survive this...

Chen Mo kept his head down and approached the platform. The student in charge of assignments, stone-faced, pointed him to a zombie.

This was the team leader’s summon, distinguished from ordinary zombies by a helmet. Chen Mo dubbed it the “bucket zombie.”

Snickers rippled around him. They were doing this on purpose, humiliating him for sport.

Watching the object of their crush do menial work for him probably gave that guy a twisted thrill.

Chen Mo stayed silent, gripping a black fur cloth and vigorously scrubbing the bucket zombie’s shriveled, taut skin.

Was this some kind of “summoner’s walk of shame”?

He cleaned carefully. In a few days, this very zombie might be smashing his skull.

Under everyone’s watchful eyes, he didn’t dare tamper with it, but studying its structure closely might come in handy later.

Angry? Not at all.

In Black Crow Castle’s rigid hierarchy, apprentice candidates serving senior apprentices was as natural as formal apprentices serving mages. No point getting mad.

The stone golems and black knights on display? Chen Mo couldn’t even touch those. They were reserved for the top students.

Some candidates had weaker mental strength than Chen Mo, but their summons were stronger, so their status outranked his.

No way around it. The greatest divide in life is drawn in the womb, even in this world.

A necromancer’s summons came from a spell called the “Sacrificial Altar.” At first, Chen Mo thought this was his golden ticket, only to realize it was barely a dirt-covered finger.

The real golden tickets belonged to the noble kids.

The Sacrificial Altar worked by offering tributes to petition a great entity on the other side for aid.

It could be an otherworldly evil god, a grand necromancer, or an abyssal lord.

What you summoned depended on three factors.

First, the mage’s mental strength. Stronger mental power meant bigger outputs: an apprentice might summon one skeleton, while a grand mage could call an entire reinforced company.

The second key was the summoning incantation, particularly the true name chant used to call a grand necromancer.

Why was the true name so crucial?

Think of the altar as a communicator. The true name was like the private phone number of a lord. To borrow troops, you first had to get through.

But even with the true name, there was no guarantee they’d answer.

Without connections, your request might get blocked by the lord’s underlings. Grand necromancers, busy managing thousands of corpses, ignored anyone not on their whitelist.

How do you get on the whitelist? Relationships.

True name chants, marker spells, bloodline imprints, soul sigils, these came from mentors or family bloodlines.

It’s like a teacher or parent writing a recommendation letter to the summoning system’s overseer.

Anyone with basic knowledge knew the difference was massive.

Some called upon: “Dark Erosion Empire, River Styx Rift, Eternal Slumber Hall, Nether King.”

Others? “Decapitated Community, Ghostfire Alley, Number 404, Bone Village Chief.” Good luck winning with that summons.

To put it bluntly, a noble with a mere eight points of mental and magical strength could still crush someone who’d trained for decades.

The final factor: without a recommendation, offering valuable tributes might catch a stranger lord’s attention.

But that was another dead end.

No background, no starting resources. No resources, no strength. No strength, how do you earn resources?

No background, no resources, no strength, why even bother?

One step behind, always behind!

That was the harsh law of this world.

It was a hurdle Chen Mo couldn’t clear, no matter how hard he tried.

A peerless genius might break through, but Chen Mo was just moderately talented.

So, he opted for a risky gamble.

After meticulously cleaning the bucket zombie, Chen Mo bowed respectfully to the supervising mage on duty.

“Honored Mage Dove Tail, I’m about to embark on a mission to the Gloomy Forest. To better serve our esteemed mentor, I request one mental strength pill and some summoning materials.” Dove Tail, one of the Black Crow Lord’s three formal mages, sat in the observation post, eyes half-closed, almost meditative.

At Chen Mo’s words, his eyes cracked open slightly.

Tch, poor kid.

Chen Mo had decent talent and learned quickly, with good comprehension. He was at least a third-tier mage prospect.

Dove Tail had seen him struggle to save himself more than once after realizing his predicament.

But he’d crossed the young master of the Zircon family.

At that level, talent and comprehension meant nothing.

It was like a top student in a lower grade not being worth a teacher’s effort to cross a highranking official’s kid.

Per castle rules, an apprentice who successfully summoned their first creature earned one mental strength pill, typically used for a second, advanced summoning.

This kid clearly knew his situation and was gearing up for a final stand.

Dove Tail glanced at Zircon.

The young master nodded carelessly, a strand of golden hair swaying, revealing his handsome but grim face.

“Fine, come with me.”

Chen Mo got his pale blue pill and swallowed it on the spot, cutting off any covetous stares.

The mental strength pill temporarily boosted one’s mental capacity, greatly increasing the Sacrificial Altar’s success rate. It allowed summoners to handle stronger summons or transfer more resources.

The downside? The mental strain required a long recovery.

For Chen Mo, who was fighting for his life, failure meant likely reincarnating, so side effects didn’t matter.

Back in the cellar, Chen Mo focused, pulling out a magic pen and scribbling a lengthy sacrificial text.

Tributes? Laughable. He couldn’t afford any.

No evil god or grand lord would glance at his meager possessions.

His only hope was the legendary bloodline sacrifice.

At midnight, Chen Mo gazed through the cellar’s skylight. The stars were fading, another dawn nearing.

This was when the mental strength pill peaked. Chen Mo formed hand seals, chanted, and summoned his Sacrificial Altar from his consciousness sea.

A faint blue glow materialized in the air. He methodically scattered magic dust, placed positioning beacons, reviewed the bloodline sacrifice method, and activated the soul summoning.

The altar’s beacon spun rapidly.

Chen Mo began entering the true name chant.

[Observable Universe—Wuxian-Corona Borealis Great Wall—KBC Void—Sloan Great Wall—Pisces-Cetus Supercluster Complex—Laniakea Supercluster—Virgo Supercluster—Local Group—Milky Way Subgroup—Milky Way—Orion Arm—Gould Belt—Local Cluster—Local Bubble—Local Interstellar Cloud—Oort Cloud—Solar System—Heliosphere—Inner Solar System—Blue Moon System—Blue Star—East Xia Republic]

[Initiating cross-realm connection…]

[Con… Con… Connecting… Sen… Sen… Sending…]

A tingling surged through Chen Mo’s consciousness sea.

The Sacrificial Altar seemed to freeze…

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