Wizard: Unlimited Profession Slots

Chapter 1410: Chapter 553: A Millennium of Filth and Shame (Part 2)

Even the lowest "Dustborn," can always find someone weaker than themselves.

These slaves gain a false sense of superiority as they oppress others, thereby forgetting they are slaves too.

Hatred passes downward, pain escalates layer by layer, ultimately forming a closed cycle.

The value of the slave laborers is calculated by the rulers with disturbing precision.

How many lashings can they endure, how many hours can they work continuously until they exhaust themselves to death, and in what form can their corpses be "reused" are all noted precisely.

Each life is simplified into a string of cold numbers, recorded in the ledgers of the rulers.

Before the final act, Ron thought he had witnessed the ultimate ugliness of human nature.

Until he saw the full nature of the "Activation" ritual.

It was a hollow deep in the heart of the ore vein, surrounded by hundreds of totem poles carved from human bones.

Every totem pole was embedded with still weakly beating hearts, providing the whole space with an eerie blood-red glow.

At the exact center of the hollow stood an altar built from obsidian.

Indigenous priests dressed in robes sewn from human skin were conducting a large-scale "Activation" ritual.

This was not a simple "blood sacrifice."

More accurately, it was an exceedingly intricate dark ritual using bloody organs as raw materials.

Ron saw the priests, like the most skilled surgeons, precisely extract organs from living "Dustborn" slave laborers:

Their movements were chillingly skillful, each incision was executed with utmost precision:

The heart first, taken out while still beating, immediately immersed in a special preservative fluid.

Next were the eyeballs, strung on a silver needle, each retaining the expression of fear before death.

Lastly, the spine, separated segment by segment, ground with mineral powder, mixed with flesh to be pressed into bricks.

Throughout this process, the priests even discussed technical details:

"The fear concentration of this batch is insufficient; next time, extend the torture time."

"The heart’s vitality is well maintained, looks like the starvation therapy is truly effective."

"The spine’s toughness has decreased, possibly the labor intensity isn’t high enough."

They discussed this as casually as farmers evaluating this year’s crop yield.

The entire process was filled with a bizarre sense of order.

They chanted profoundly meaningful spells, drawing some energy guiding runes that Ron had never seen before using the slave laborers’ blood on the ore vein.

They were not merely venting bestial brutality, on the contrary, they acted like the most meticulous alchemists.

Precisely "modulating" and "catalyzing" the concentration and "quality" of resentment.

The trajectory of each drop of blood, the tonal frequency of each scream, each moment of organ separation was meticulously calculated, all serving the ultimate goal of the ritual.

Following this, a crucial shift in perspective occurred.

Ron saw one priest whose status was obviously extremely high.

Cautiously extracted from the recently "Activated" vein core, a fist-sized stone emitting a deep purple light.

This stone’s surface shimmered with a liquid-like sheen.

Inside, it seemed to seal countless tormented souls, occasionally emitting faint but clear wails.

The High Priest solemnly embedded this stone into his own chest.

In an instant, a terrifying energy fluctuation burst forth from him!

The intensity of this power far exceeded that of the "All Gold Warriors Captain" Ron had seen before.

It might even have reached the terrifying standard close to Dark Sun Level!

Moreover, such priests were not a unique presence in the scene.

Ron counted at least twelve priests of the same rank surrounding the altar, each possessing a similar resentment core.

If these are the true high-tier combat forces.

Then the overall strength of the indigenous faction will far surpass Vinard’s estimation!

And all these priests simultaneously knelt in the direction deep into the ore vein.

There, a figure was completely shielded by dense black mist.

Though its specific form couldn’t be seen, the mere oppressive presence of the figure caused Ron’s consciousness to sense an intense crisis.

It was a kind of instinctive fear that only arises when facing a Great Wizard level!

.........

Ron’s consciousness broke free like a drowning man, gasping heavily.

Yet more shocking than the physical exhaustion was the terrifying suspicion taking shape in his heart:

"We were all wrong..." he whispered to himself.

Vinard was wrong, Alister was wrong, Hillas was wrong, everyone was wrong.

They always believed the resentment in Silent Mine Salt was a kind of "contamination."

A by-product unfortunately produced during mining, an obstacle needing removal.

The truth was quite the opposite:

This resentment was the actual "main product"!

The seemingly precious mine salt was merely a container for nurturing resentment!

The indigenous power had been engaging in "farming" from the very beginning.

They watered this ore vein with the blood and tears of countless generations of slave laborers, allowing the resentment to ferment, condense, and sublimate like aged wine.

And now, this batch of "fine wine" was nearing maturity.

"This isn’t pollution at all..."

"This is ’Enchantment’! A high-grade soul enchantment using blood and tears as raw materials!"

The Vinard project team had habitually believed that the indigenous of Stoker Star, due to technological backwardness, were incapable of handling the mine salt pollution, granting these "advanced" outsiders an enormous boon.