"Temperance? That will do." Ye Qingxuan stretched out his hand and the Son of Phoenix clumsily took out a metal box from his backpack and cracked it open. There was a cup which seemed to be carved from a human skull.

"I'll go and gather the musicians," said the Son of Phoenix.

"No need for that; it's too slow. I can do it myself." Holding the cup like a sword, Ye Qingxuan chanted the initializing incantation which was a national secret.

"Today we raise the cup to celebrate; may all the fertile lands yield wheat."

The sound of mud gushing was heard. In the empty cup, sticky grease -like liquid was steadily gushing out. The speed of the liquid was incredibly fast, with small bubbles popping out with it. There was nothing odd about its appearance, yet it made people nervous and fearful.

Land and grain were the prerequisites of life. If they were lost, the world would suffer from terrible plague and famine, which meant endless starvation and torment.

Even the Son of Phoenix, who had