CHAPTER 283: BLOOD RITUAL

The Celestial Sect’s main courtyard had been silent the morning of Grim’s return.

Grim stood at the entrance, taking in the changes with satisfaction. His increased power was obvious to anyone with spiritual sensitivity.

"Lord Ambrose," came Chen Xing’s voice from behind him. "Welcome back. The sect has progressed considerably in your absence."

"How considerably?" Grim asked, not turning around as he continued to survey the grounds.

"We should let Shen Lao provide the details," Chen Xing replied.

They found Shen Lao in the central training hall, observing a group of students practicing mana circulation techniques.

"Lord Ambrose," Shen Lao said, approaching with obvious pleasure. "Your return is well-timed. We have much to discuss."

"Chen Xing mentioned progress," Grim said. "How many students have reached the requirements?"

"Two hundred," Shen Lao replied with pride. "Two hundred students have successfully developed three complete mana hearts and demonstrated the discipline necessary for advanced cultivation."

Grim felt a surge of satisfaction at the number. Grim expected a lower number of students. "And the others?"

"Dismissed." Shen Lao said without emotion. "We maintained our standards rigorously. Those who remain have proven their determination."

"Good," Grim said.

"There’s something different about you," Shen Lao observed, his draconic nature allowing him to sense changes that others might miss. "Your cultivation level has increased dramatically."

"Training with divine beings tends to have that effect," Grim replied. "But we can discuss that later. Right now, I want to meet with the advanced students. All two hundred of them."

"For what purpose?" Chen Xing asked.

"A ceremony," Grim said simply. "Gather everyone in the main hall. I want to address them directly."

An hour later, two hundred students sat in neat rows across the main hall’s polished floor. They ranged in age from young adults to middle-aged adults, representing various social classes and backgrounds, but all shared the focused intensity that came from months of serious cultivation training.

Grim stood at the front of the hall, his presence commanding immediate attention.

"You’ve all achieved something significant," he began, his voice carrying clearly to the back of the hall. "Three mana hearts represent a level of cultivation that most people never reach. You should be proud of your progress."

Murmurs of agreement rippled through the assembled students.

"However," Grim continued, his tone shifting to something more serious, "reaching this level also means making a choice about your future. What you’ve accomplished so far has been preparation. What comes next will determine whether you become true cultivators or not."

The hall fell completely silent.

"The Celestial Sect is not a school you attend and then leave," Grim explained. "It’s not a place you visit to learn techniques and then return to your normal lives. From this point forward, membership in this sect requires total commitment."

He began pacing slowly across the front of the hall, his eyes scanning the faces of the students.

"If you choose to continue with advanced training, you will swear an oath of loyalty to this sect and to me personally. You will serve the sect’s interests before your own family’s interests. If your family tries to harm me or undermine this sect’s goals, you will stand with the sect, even if that means standing against your own blood."

The silence in the hall became oppressive. Several students exchanged worried glances, while others sat straighter with obvious determination.

"This is not a decision to make lightly," Grim continued. "Once you swear this oath, breaking it will have consequences that extend far beyond simple dismissal from the sect. You will be bound by blood and spirit to honor your commitment."

A student near the front raised his hand tentatively. "Lord Ambrose, what if our families haven’t done anything wrong? Why should we pledge to act against them?"

"Because power requires sacrifice," Grim replied bluntly. "You cannot serve two masters when those masters have conflicting interests. Your families raised you, educated you, and supported you to this point. But they also represent the old way of thinking, the old power structures that keep people weak."

He stopped pacing and faced the students directly.

"This sect exists to create something new. Cultivators who are loyal to each other, who share knowledge freely, who advance together instead of competing for scraps from established houses. That vision requires people who are willing to put the sect’s mission before their family’s political games."

Another student, a young woman from what appeared to be a merchant family, spoke up. "What happens to our families if we take this oath? Do we cut ties with them completely?"

"Not necessarily," Grim said. "You maintain whatever relationships you choose, as long as those relationships don’t compromise your loyalty to the sect. If your family supports our goals, there’s no conflict. If they oppose us..." He shrugged. "Then you’ll have to choose."

"And if we choose our families?" asked an older student.

"Then you leave now with my thanks for your service and my respect for your honesty," Grim replied. "There’s no shame in making that choice. But there’s also no returning once you’ve made it."

For several minutes, the hall buzzed with whispered conversations as students discussed the ultimatum with those sitting near them. Some faces showed clear distress, while others displayed the kind of determination that suggested they had already made their decision.

"I need an answer now," Grim announced, cutting through the discussions. "Those who are willing to swear the oath of loyalty, remain seated. Those who choose their families over the sect, please stand and leave. You have five minutes to decide."

The exodus began almost immediately. Students throughout the hall rose from their seats and walked toward the exits, some looking relieved while others appeared genuinely conflicted about their choice.

Family ties ran deep in the empire, and asking people to potentially betray those bonds was a serious demand.

When the five minutes ended, Grim counted the remaining students. Seventy-four people sat in the hall, their faces showing various degrees of nervousness and determination.

"Seventy-four," he said with satisfaction. "Good. You’ve chosen correctly."

"What happens now?" asked a student from the middle of the group.

"Now we formalize your commitment," Grim replied.

Shen Lao approached from the side of the hall, carrying an ornate bronze bowl. The bowl was clearly ancient, covered in draconic script.

"This bowl has been used for oath ceremonies for over a thousand years," Shen Lao explained, setting it on a pedestal at the center of the hall. "Blood sworn in this vessel creates bonds that last a life time."

"Each of you will approach the bowl individually," Grim instructed. "Cut your palm with the knife provided, let three drops of blood fall into the bowl, and speak your oath of loyalty. The exact words don’t matter as much as your sincere intent."

The first student, a young man who looked barely old enough to be away from home, approached the bowl with obvious nervousness. He took the ceremonial knife from Shen Lao, made a shallow cut across his palm, and let the blood drip into the bowl.

"I swear loyalty to Lord Ambrose and the Celestial Sect," he said, his voice shaking slightly. "I will serve the sect’s interests before my own, and I will stand with my sect brothers and sisters against any enemy."

As the blood hit the bowl, the draconic script flared with golden light, and the student gasped as he felt the oath take hold in his spirit.

One by one, the remaining students repeated the process. Each oath was slightly different in wording, but all carried the same essential commitment. Some students spoke with confidence, others with visible effort, but all completed the ceremony.

When the last student had returned to his seat, the bowl contained a significant amount of blood that seemed to glow with accumulated spiritual energy from all the oaths.

"Well done," Grim said to the assembled group. "You are now full members of the Celestial Sect, bound to each other and to our shared mission."

Shen Lao approached him with the bowl, but instead of taking it away, he produced a small knife and made a cut on his own palm.

"What are you doing?" Grim asked.

"Completing the ceremony," Shen Lao replied, letting a single drop of his blood fall into the bowl with the others.

He offered the bowl to Grim. "Drink, and swear your own oath to protect and guide those who have chosen to follow you."

Grim took the bowl, feeling the weight of the moment.

"I swear to guide and protect the members of the Celestial Sect," he said, his voice carrying to every corner of the hall. "I will use my power to advance our shared goals, to defend our members from harm, and to create something greater than any of us could achieve alone."

He lifted the bowl to his lips and drank deeply. The blood was warm and thick, and as it flowed down his throat, he felt connections forming between himself and every person in the hall.