In an instant, a strong sense of distortion and tearing swept over his entire body.
This feeling was far more intense than he imagined—as if every inch of skin was simultaneously pierced by countless fine needles, and every nerve was pulled to the limit.
Space folded, twisted, and reassembled in front of his eyes, and countless illusions and residual shadows appeared in his view.
In his daze, he seemed to see countless horrified faces wailing in the darkness, as if hearing the whispers and snickers of some ancient language.
Ron forced himself to stay alert; the experience from the last simulation battle device immediately made him realize that the curse was taking effect.
Unlike the simulated effect in the simulation battle device, the real curse was more complex and multi-layered.
He could feel his flesh creeping, as if countless tiny creatures were crawling under the skin.
At the same time, his thoughts began to become chaotic, with various bizarre ideas constantly emerging, trying to erode his sanity.
It was as if he was simultaneously afflicted by a dual curse of physical mutation and spiritual distortion.
Ron immediately activated his bloodline power, a strong surge of heat erupted within him, the power of the Red Blood Flying Dragon swept through his body like flames.
The strong bloodline power of the Dragon Species was like a barrier, temporarily resisting those strange changes trying to erode his flesh.
Meanwhile, he quickly entered a meditation state, spiritual power circulated within him, forming a special mental defense.
"Zi...krulu...niag..."
He also silently recited the syllables of the Erosion Chapter, using this mysterious power from the starry sky to counter the curse from the abyss.
This method of fighting poison with poison was surprisingly effective—the twisting forces from two completely different sources counteracted each other within him, allowing him to remain clear-headed.
"The effect is better than expected." Ron relaxed slightly in his heart.
Last time in the simulation battle device, it was the simulated curse of the third and fourth layers of the abyss.
And now, what he was facing, although it combined the dual effects of body and spirit, seemed to be much weaker, probably only equivalent to the first and second layers.
As he pondered, the teleportation process finally ended.
The distorted space around him gradually stabilized, and an unfamiliar world unfolded before his eyes.
Ron stood on a bizarre plain.
The ground was some semi-coagulated dark red substance, slightly elastic underfoot, like stepping on a thin meat carpet. Nᴇw ɴovel chaptᴇrs are published on NovєlFіre.net
The sky presented an unnatural purple-black color.
No sun, no moon, only some oddly-shaped dark clouds floating, occasionally flashed with faint red lightning.
In the distance, some twisted and deformed mountain outlines loomed, those "peaks" looked more like the curled backs of some giant creature.
More unsettling was that the entire environment seemed to be "alive":
The ground faintly fluctuated with the breath, the air was filled with a fishy-sweet smell, as if standing inside some gigantic creature.
"Is this inside the Bloodline Altar..."
Ron cautiously surveyed the surroundings, carefully using spiritual power to probe the energy fluctuations around him.
After confirming the area was safe, he quickly opened the spatial bag.
After a slight spatial fluctuation, the silver-haired Little Sea Siren emerged from the spatial bag.
As soon as she appeared, she noticeably felt uncomfortable.
Her large violet-blue eyes immediately widened, and her slender body began to tremble violently.
"Mas... Master..." Dale’s voice was hoarse and painful: "Here... feels awful..."
Ron immediately supported the Little Sea Siren, who almost collapsed.
"Endure it, Dale, this is the influence of the abyssal curse, don’t resist it, learn to adapt."
Dale nodded, but her skin had already begun to show unnatural changes:
Small patches appeared as grayish-white, as if rapidly dehydrating.
Ron quickly retrieved a bottle of light blue potion from the storage bag, which he had prepared in advance.
"Drink this, it’s the ’Abyss Adaptation Agent’, it can help reduce the effect of the curse."
Dale tremblingly received the bottle and gulped the potion down her throat in one go.
The effects were almost instantaneous—her skin gradually returned to its normal color, and her breathing stabilized.
"Thank you, Master..." Dale softly said, her voice much steadier than before, albeit still carrying fear:
"This place... is even scarier than I imagined."
"This is just the beginning." Ron solemnly warned:
"The road ahead will only get harder. But don’t be afraid, remember everything I’ve taught you, we can pass this trial."
The Little Sea Siren nodded resolutely, trying to stand straight.
"Master, this place... feels like... a battlefield?"
She looked around, puzzled.
This indeed seemed like the remains of an ancient battlefield, but distorted by the power of the abyss.
Numerous twisted and deformed metal fragments were scattered on the ground.
Those which might have been shields, spears, or swords, had now fused into the ground, morphing into malformed protrusions.
Some giant bones protruded from the ground, but they clearly were not human bones—too massive and twisted, their shapes too strange to recognize.
Further away, remnants of banners half-buried in the blood-colored soil swayed lightly in the wind.
The insignia on them were blurred, but several different national or racial symbols could be faintly discerned.
"You’re right, Dale. This should be an ancient battlefield eroded by abyssal power."
Ron crouched down and lightly touched the ground with his sword tip.
The layer that appeared to be soil cracked open a seam, revealing dark red muscle-like fibers underneath.