Nine Venoms Sect Founder

Within the Obsidian Soul Stone mine, after igniting and turning the tens of thousands of Weeping Soul fruits into fuel, the Reverend had pushed his strength far beyond Ascending-God level, and could now look down on the whole Landgrave Assembly. But for this temporary strength boost that brought him to the Blood Matron's level, he paid a hefty price.

The boost only lasted one hour, so unless the Reverend consumed the Blood Matron's soul within that timeframe and broke through the final layer of the Weeping Soul Mantra—even if he somewhat escaped—he'd lose centuries of accumulation and suffer a severe setback. But by now, the Reverend could no longer see retreat as an option. The Blood Matron understood that very well.

Joining her hands in a prayer sign, the matron commanded the Abyssal River, her most reliable tool, to suppress Weeping Soul. Blood mist formed around the Reverend, trapping his gargantuan treant form in a just as sizable blood sphere. This time, Weeping Soul thrashed against his bounds, attempting to break free as soon as possible to take down the Blood Matron and steal her body.

Mukri, who observed the confrontation from a safe distance, was confused by Harun's disappearance. Indeed, following the Blood Matron's rise, Harun vanished. Mukri couldn't track down his boss' whereabouts. But sensing through the Karmic Link that Harun still breathed, he reckoned that the red-eyed vixen sealed him in another dimension—an accurate guess.

…

Back to the orange-red world of spiraling, geometric figures, Harun recovered from his mind trip. Seduced by his eyes, the Blood Matron couldn't lift her sight from Harun's Sovereign Pupils. More precisely, there was an uncanny intensity in the way she peered into the golden pupil—as if that eye alone hid the world's most delectable secrets. "Odd. Are you…a silk—" Unable to restrain her curiosity, the Blood Matron started. But realizing the terrible mistake she almost committed, she restrained herself—instead waiting for Harun to regain his composure. Suppressing his thirst for the truth, Harun shifted to the left, facing the Blood Matron, whose gaze refused to part from him. 

"Though I knew it'd share a greater connection with you than me, I didn't expect you to go through such an intense experience. My apologies," she said, leaned closer toward Harun, and placed one hand on his cheek. Red light gushed out of her palm, stabilizing his condition. Perhaps due to her refiner level, the lightning cracking around Harun's form didn't react to the Blood Matron's touch. For an instant, the two maintained eye contact, and as they appraised and robbed information from one another's glance, a silence crept in. 

"You have the look of someone with more questions than answers. I may not be able to reply to all you've seen, and don't want to know what you are not willing to share. However, I will answer all you ask me to the best of my abilities," the Blood Matron pledged, and though he didn't let his facial expression betray him, Harun remained skeptical. Thanks to the stele, he'd gained substantial insight into refiners' abilities and training process—even receiving a new mantra. However, much of that knowledge lay in shambles, preventing him from instantly grasping the stele's teachings.

"Let's start with the basics. Harun, the Plague Overlord, certified defiler. A pleasure to meet you," Harun sat crossed legged and started the introductions.

"Dolma, the Blood Matron, certified soul eater. The pleasure is all mine," the Blood Matron sincerely replied, making Harun arc his eyebrows.

"Isn't that a dish? Why do I feel someone handpicked that name specifically for me?" Harun asked himself, but knowing there were more important matters at play, he restrained his curiosity.

"Where are we? What precisely are refiners? Why can you command such powers despite having no Bridge, and what do you want from me?" Though he already knew or could guess much of the answers, Harun needed to buy himself time, and so decided to play the card of ignorance. As if anticipating those questions, Dolma nodded and sat on her knees. 

"Fair questions. Luckily for me, I can answer all those in one go. This is my Mandala, the Internal Meditation World unique to all refiners at the Paramita layer or above. Cultivators cross bridges, refiners perfect, and liberate themselves from the world's shackles. I suppose you could say that our flesh is the bridge. But in the strictest of senses, we are ascetics that meditate on three principles: suppression, immunity and liberation. Do not take the Landgraves as reliable examples. The 20th and above aside, the rest were failures." Here, Dolma paused and snapped her fingers. A golden cloud formed above her forehead, showcasing the image of a young woman with short black hair tied in a chignon. Dressed in the typical monk's kasaya, the illusory woman fixed Harun with a striking pair of golden double pupils nigh identical to his left eye. 

"And she is our creator. Her name was lost to history. Even the stele doesn't reveal it, so we merely call her the Holy One. In times you folks now refer to as the Lost Era, the Heavenly Dream Land was but one tiny world, a barren land of blight and decay known as the Noxious Flame World. In those days, humans' life expectancy was 38. Cultivation didn't exist, and disease ruled the land. Seeking to bring order to her birthplace, the Holy One used the Mysteries of Truth, Fate, Life, Death, Infinity, Nothingness, and other forces we cannot comprehend to create three puppets: each with a unique attribute. Those puppets became the first refiners, spread the Holy One's teachings, and warned humans of the dangers they faced outside this land: the Devils. 

To prepare for that unknown threat, the most determined among humans became refiners and through ritual dances, learned to summon Heavenly Tribulation to temper themselves.

Get insight into the three principles, harness the energies concealed within Heaven's Wrath, let them course through your veins, cleanse your will and exalt your flesh, only then can you fuse with Tribulation Lightning and become…a true refiner. Or at least…that's how it was at first." Unable to hide her excitement, Dolma flashed an expectant smile.

"True refiners are not mere flesh tempering brutes, but scholars and researchers. While refiners can make substantial progress through their willpower alone, to say nothing of getting insight into the three fundamental principles, not many could survive the constant, scaling tribulations. The farther you go, the more bolt marks you need for the tiniest bit of progress. 

According to the stele, her three puppets aside, the Holy One had a secretive partner who silently followed her throughout her adventures. Because they both had double pupils, some claim that they were siblings, others that they were lovers from the same clan. Regardless, to improve the Holy One's work, that man created an art enabling refiners to exchange and condense more bolt marks through a more…sensual form of enlightenment: the Tantric Exaltation Mantra.

And that, Harun, is what brings me to you. Long story short, your Seven-Colored Internal Flame makes you one of the most desirable partners under all heavens. To all refiners across the omniverse, you possess an irresistible appeal. Even I, who used to disdain the practice, can't resist you.

At my current pace, I would need to consume the whole Mountain Edge World to recover half of my lost strength. But if you agree to become my partner, thanks to your Seven-Colored Internal Flame, one year of Tantric Exaltation is all I need to return to and exceed my previous peak. As for you, your strength will improve by leaps and bounds," Dolma explained. But as she expected, Harun's thoughts stopped at the double pupils pair.

"Of what color were the other expert's eyes?" Harun asked, though he could already foresee the answer.

"Purple, and if the stele speaks true, he killed our founder but left her inheritance behind."