Sovereign of the Karmic System

Daniel's appearance did not go unnoticed to the tens of thousands of cultivators who, just moments ago, were watching the ceremony so religiously.  So, at the sight of him, they immediately sprung up on their feet, and took off to the skies, where they traveled the few hundred meters of distance resembling a swarm of irritated red-colored wasps.

As the quickest and strongest of the group approached the platform, however, their  blood-soaked leader stopped them on their track with a simple wave of his hand. Then, with a voice that resounded across thousands of miles, he said with extreme confidence, "Be calm.. 'Tis nothing but one more offering I am honored to deliver to our Lord."

At this point, one of the hooded champions that stood next to him took a step forward. It was a woman, as one may infer from her short stature and delicate voice that rang in her leader's ears, as she said, "Elder brother, something is wrong with this one.. Maybe you should leave him to-"

Her gentle voice was immediately cut off, as the blonde man raised his red hand up to his shoulder. A hint of anger had appeared on his face, which he immediately tried to conceal. "You know our oldest tradition. Today's offerings are mine to give, and no one else's." He growled in a low tone that only the woman could hear, forcing her to fall back and resume her position.

Naturally, the woman did not believe Daniel to be a threat more than her new leader did. The reason she had stepped forward, was to taint the sanctity of the blond man's investiture, which, by tradition, saw the leader of the blood sect receive the grace of the aspect of existence they served by themselves.

Had someone else offered a sacrifice in their stead, the existential power produced would belong to them, allowing them to make the claim that, the day of the event, Sacrifice did not favor the leader alone, but the other person as well.

The tradition the blonde man spoke of, however, was not a true tradition. In fact, the Blood Sect had really only had one ruler before. At the moment of this ruler's sudden and mysterious passing, the oldest sect disciples, left without a guide and a chosen candidate, had created this tradition. A day that allowed them to claim the leadership of the blood sect, and its billions of subjects, by proving their worth to the aspect of Sacrifice.

While many within the sect believed this to be a fair method, it was also far from being the most peaceful, since each candidate possessed enough power to afford an infinite amount of offerings, if they so decided. This friendly competition had lasted for over a century, and led to the highest spike of influence in the history of Sacrifice's domain.. But also to a standstill between thirteen of the sect's disciples.

Specifically, the blonde young man, and the twelve others who stood by his side.

After a hundred and twenty years, dissatisfied by the results, the disciples finally chose a more direct approach, and instead of competing for Sacrifice's love, they let their fists talk. A method that proved to be less fitting to the nature of their domain, but more on the line of human behavior.

From being a competition, the event turned into an investiture, where only the strongest of the sect's disciples were allowed to spill blood for the Lord, considering the boon of existential power to be a reward they had earned thanks to their superiority.

The blonde cultivator was the youngest of the former leader's disciples, and currently, the strongest champion within the blood sect. For the woman to help him, in front of all of his strongest followers, was not only an insult to his strength, but would also taint the validity of his investiture-And that, he could not allow.. No matter what danger he was in.

As the woman stepped back, the blonde cultivators turned to look back at Daniel, who was still standing quietly, as if unbothered by the presence of the tens of thousands of cultivators that wished for nothing more than to slaughter him to prove their loyalty. But none of them dared, and instead observed in silence as the blonde cultivator raised his blood-covered right hand up to his stomach, with his palm facing up.

He then brought his left hand onto it, and with the tip of index finger, dug onto the skin of his palm, forming a gash from which fresh blood began to ooze in excessive amounts, forming a small pool. This blood, however, did not stop at pooling onto his palm, but instead, continued to rise up into a small liquid column that quickly rose past his chest, shoulders, chin, and mouth.

The moment the highest part of this small column reached the height of the man's glabella. Like an upside down river of blood, the column kept dancing in pace, until moments later, the excesses started to flow down, revealing the shape of a bloody sword.

As soon as the sword was revealed, it turned into a haze alongside the arm that held it.

Daniel immediately rocked his head to the side, avoiding the slash that came for his neck at light speed, yet, even he could not avoid completely, for when the reddish haze turned back into the man's arm and sword, he was left with a superficial cut at the bottom of his neck.

The cut immediately started to ooze blood, but before the amount it took to form two droplets could emerge, his spiritual power had already taken over, turning into a holy white power that immediately sealed the injury. As Daniel brushed his thumb over the spot where only moments ago was the cut, any trace of it was gone, including the small bit of blood he had bled.

Surprised by Daniel's immediate reaction, the blonde cultivator did not panic, nor did he become enraged. Instead, he seemed amused. After all, a sacrifice was only worth what the offering's life was.. And a stronger offering offered a stronger boon from his lord. An offering like Daniel, in his mind, made for the perfect ending for his investiture.

As he thought of this, the blonde young man became even more excited.. Prompting him to disappear once more. When he reappeared, he was standing next to Daniel, against which he unleashed an uncountable amount of attacks that made the speed of the previous one pale in comparison.

Daniel maintained his composure, and focused on the man's sword, which was coming dangerously close to his vital organs every time it was swung. Luckily, with a bit of effort, he was able to keep up with the man's speed, causing the blonde cultivator to cut little more than the air that surrounded him.

As the duration of the exchange reached a single minute, a time long enough for the leader of the Blood Sect to unleash tens of thousands of attacks, he had started to find something odd.. His opponent was incredibly fast, and despite his initial success in cutting him during that first slash, his blade had never again been able to come in contact with Daniel's body.

He noticed, in fact, that Daniel's reaction had grown sharper, while his composure had remained as calm as ever. To him, it almost felt as if the indifferent young man was not struggling to maintain his life, but was sparring with an amateur.. A wild and infuriating assumption that happened to be, unbeknownst to him, painfully close to reality.

After seeing the black castle he used to inhabit, Daniel had remembered much of his past. Of all the training he had done to achieve the highest level possible of martial arts, of all the hours he had put sparring against the castle's training dummies, and the people he used to consider his closest friends. Memories that, however, did not trigger any feeling of melancholy, but simply birthed the realization that he had lost touch with his martial arts skills-So he decided, for his own amusement, that this was the right occasion to brush those skills off.

As time passed, it became more and more clear to the blonde young man that Daniel was not being serious, but that changed, slightly, as the red blades started to come at a much faster rate.

Entertained by the increased difficulty, Daniel was quick to realize that his opponent had not gone faster, but that instead, several more blades of blood had emerged from his body. His left hand, both elbows, knees, his shoulders.. Even his feet now had shorter swords protruding from his soaked skin, which he used as a follow up attack whenever the original sword failed to find its target.

The rate of attacks grew exponentially, reaching a speed that made the body of the blonde cultivator almost disappear, for light and space had started to curve under the saw-like pressure of his red blades.

But, alas, the increase of effort was all for naught.

Fine minutes later, the motion of the blonde cultivator came to a complete halt. His once amused expression had morphed into one of feral rage, with eyes wide open, brows that could reach the sky, and teeth gritted so hard that they threatened to shatter from the pressure. He was embarrassed, and furious.

"AAAARGH!" the blonde cultivator roared as he flung his foot forward. An attack he did not expect to land, for it was a simple expression of his state of mind. Yet, contrary to his expectations, the bottom of his foot connected with his enemy's stomach, sending him flying back and off the platform.

At this point, Daniel's body was like that of a normal mortal, and after receiving the blow, it dropped down the castle's wall and towards the large mounds of corpses.

Pleasantly surprised, the blonde cultivator followed suit, and jumped off the platform in a similar fashion, allowing himself to fall hundreds of feet in the embrace of gravity, and only slowing his descent as he came to ground level, where Daniel was standing calmly in a free yet small patch of ground that was in between three different mountains of corpses.

When he reached the bottom, the leader of the Blood Sect noticed that Daniel was looking at his surroundings with a look of indifference. How much must this intruder be struggling to stop himself from gagging in disgust.. From shrieking in fear, and screaming in horror? The blonde man thought, finally regaining a semblance of composure.

"Do you enjoy the scenery? I have created it myself with great effort." he then said before landing on top of the biggest of the mountains of corpses, where the majority of the offerings of the last few days had landed. The body he was standing on was, in fact, still warm.

For a moment, Daniel kept looking at his surroundings. Then, the indifference on his face turned into an appreciative look. "Never seen anything prettier." He muttered to himself as he took in the sight.

These few words sent the blonde cultivator on high alert. Very few domains possessed a nature as brutal as that of the domain of Sacrifice. If Daniel was not affected by such a terrifying sight, then he must have belonged to one such domain, he thought. "Are you from the domain of Horror?" He asked carefully.

In the case Daniel was truly a champion of Horror, the blonde cultivator would have felt awful. After all, that would have made Daniel his superior, for the domain of Sacrifice was subjected to the domain of Horror. For that reason he felt obliged to verify that the person he had tried to kill was not someone he should have bowed to.

Unfortunately, the man had misunderstood the intruder's words. He had thought that Daniel was happy with the gruesome scenery, but that was not the case.. For what he saw was not the same scenery Daniel was seeing.

In Daniel's eyes, his surroundings were not an enormous open grave, but a sea of golden lights. Pure unfulfilled karmic power that brushed together like small waves from different currents, before merging into a golden river that instinctively flowed straight into his skin, eager to become one with him.