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Desolate Fate

On the day he first met a cultivator, Yaan’s life was changed forever. All that he cared for was ripped away from him. He was forced into a despair-inducing situation, but he endured, he fought, he refused to give up. But why did he persevere, what drove him to go on? With nothing to return to, his hatred and rage fuelled his will to survive… But hatred begets more hatred and the flames of rage are extinguished with time. He was desperately clinging to any thread of meaning that he could find, but heated emotions do not last forever, and ambitions are rarely easily achieved. A person changes over time, often into that which they once despised… Life…is a struggle. A struggle against the world, a struggle against our own nature, and a struggle against fate. This is the tale of a lone person’s struggle through a twisted world, and his desperate attempt to resist his desolate fate.

SpicyDaoist · Fantaisie
Pas assez d’évaluations
427 Chs

Ceaseless Pain

Yaan had always been hard working. Even as a child, he possessed the drive to cultivate diligently. Back then, he was motivated by his desire for revenge, but of course, the motivating factor continually changed over time.

In North Ghu City, Yaan cultivated diligently because it was what he had always done. Since the age of seven, he had spent most of every day cultivating, it became a habit and a way of life for him.

In the 4th trial realm, Yaan came to understand that he needed to become stronger. He was made aware that fate was a real phenomena, and that he was tied to his unknown fate for unknown reasons. At this point, Yaan started to feel pressured by his environment and by the world around him, causing him to cultivate with greater diligence than ever before.

Now, in the Fragment Sect, Yaan was once again under pressure. This pressure was not immediately evident since there were still three years before the threat became pressing, whilst the person causing him to feel this pressure was nonchalantly sitting across the room from him, making it feel a bit surreal.

Right now, Yaan was cultivating with greater intensity and diligence than ever before in his life. His every waking moment was completely engrossed in the act of cultivating, in pushing himself harder, in forcing his body and mind to the brink. This was arduous to an inhuman extent, but Yaan persevered due to the threat of death which lingered over his head.

Whenever he considered stopping, or even just taking a break, the image of the white-haired immortal flashed in his mind.

If he did not succeed, he would die. If he did not put his all into cultivating, he would not succeed. Even if he did give it his all, he still might not succeed…

All of this said, Yaan realised something. In fact, the threat of death was not enough to motivate him to train like this. This wasn't because he didn't care about life and death…it was simply because this sort of inhuman torture surpassed that which the human mind and will was able to force itself to endure.

So then, why did he go on like this? Why had he been sitting in the Grey Mist Pressure Chamber silently for six months now, allowing his body and mind to be battered and abused continuously by the grey mist vortex, then forcefully healed over within minutes only so that he could continue to suffer again immediately after waking up?

Not only did the white-haired immortal ask himself this question, Yaan also had this thought in one of the few moments that he mustered up enough mental energy to string together a complete thought.

He realised that, in the end, cultivating was all he knew in this life.

Yaan did not possess any memories prior to the two days before he was taken away to the Heavenly Path Sect. From then on, he suffered as he struggled to begin his journey of cultivation, he suffered as he began walking down the path of demonic cultivation. It really was all he had ever known.

If he didn't cultivate, what would he even do?

Why would he stop now? What was the alternative?

Yaan realised that he honestly didn't know.

He cultivated because seeking more strength, more enlightenment, more insight into himself and into the truth, simply felt like the only path in his life. It was either cultivate, or die.

And so, he cultivated.

No matter how painful, no matter how exhausting, he went on. No matter what state he was thrust into, Yaan did not pull away from the pain, he did not seek out comfort or reprieve from this cruel fate, because this pain was simply a part of his path.

He did not enjoy this at all. The exhaustion of the countless cycles of training and forceful recovery under the grey vortex continued to wear down on him over time. Not only that, but he was now able to endure more cycles back to back, whilst the time that he needed to recover between the groups of cycles was slowly reducing. The pain was increasing, the workload was growing, and the periods of rest were declining.

The more arduous his life became, the more focussed and single minded Yaan felt as he continued forwards. It was as if there was simply nothing else in the world other than taking a single step forwards. This feeling reminded him of the final 9th pagoda trial, when he walked through that bloody tunnel…

After six months in the Grey Mist Pressure Chamber, Yaan gradually began releasing a peculiar aura. At first, this aura was weak, but despite this weakness, the white-haired immortal's expression changed as soon as he sensed this.

Yaan was not looking at this person who was both his capturer and benefactor right now, but he would be stunned to see such a change in the man's expression if he were to open his eyes. The immortal showed an expression of shock, something that he did not hide for a few seconds, before he quickly regathered himself and his face returned to its usual calm.

Now though, his narrowed eyes were fixated intently upon Yaan.

The aura emanating from Yaan steadily grew stronger. Eventually, a feeling of desolation swept outwards as the aura ascended beyond a certain extent.

As Yaan slowly opened his eyes, the immortal narrowed his own eyes further.

"No colour…" He muttered to himself when he stared into Yaan's eyes and realised that he could not discern the colour within.

An illusion now surrounded Yaan, an invisible illusion with no image nor sound. This illusion was only filled with a desolate emotion…

This was the same power that Yaan had somehow manifested in the 7th pagoda trial, during his battle against the multiple copies of himself!

A feeling of emptiness and loneliness filled the chamber. This illusory feeling could stir people's emotions, causing them to become transfixed on the aura surrounding Yaan's body.

Of course, the Immortal Ancestor was able to easily resist this without any issues, but it was already shocking enough that he even needed to resist it!

However, after understanding the power surrounding Yaan, he did not look surprised by the strength of this ability, he merely continued to watch with a focussed gaze.

The feeling of desolation seemed to reflect the suppressed feelings in Yaan's heart.

Memories of his life surfaced in his mind. All of these memories were filled with bitterness or struggle, with difficulty and solitude. These memories played through Yaan's mind like flipping through a picture book, he saw his entire life's memories laid out before him. When he saw everything like this, it really felt as if, even when he was around others like in this Fragment Sect, in reality, he was always alone in this world.

But the desolate feeling did not last for long, it began to evolve.

Ruthlessness. An intense killing intent enveloped the surroundings, but this killing intent was actually a strange sort that was directed inwards, towards Yaan himself…this expressed his ruthlessness towards himself!

In order to walk his path, in order to survive until now, Yaan had progressively become more and more demonic in his outlook and his actions. However, compared to everything that he had done to others, Yaan was even more ruthless towards himself!

To survive, to continue onwards, he was willing to cut down all that stood in his way, including his own emotions…

The aura transformed into a feeling of perseverance. This illusory emotion seemed to linger for the longest, displaying how Yaan always continued pushing forwards, no matter how long it took, no matter how painful it may feel.

His entire life was like one extended ordeal of perseverance. Enduring in the Heavenly Path Sect, being forced to flee South into the dangerous world at such a young age, making his way alone to the Ghu Province, entering the inheritance, all the killing and arduous training, without truly understanding why he went on…

Pursuing a vague objective, trying to find the truth amongst a sea of uncertainty, walking along this path with no clear end in sight…

The desolate feeling returned again, but this time, it was extremely weak and rapidly fading away. However, the weakness of this desolation only made it feel all the more painful.

Yaan slowly turned towards the white-haired immortal with his colour-confused eyes. After briefly making eye contact, Yaan slumped to the floor, unconscious.

The Immortal Ancestor stared at the unconscious Yaan for a long time, showing no signs of taking action, even as the grey mist reversed its flow and began restoring his body and mind.

However, even a day later, after his body and mind had long since recovered to their peak strength, Yaan did not wake up.

Seeing this, the immortal let out a sigh.

"It really is that power…an incomplete pseudo-domain…how incredible for a mortal to even touch upon this power, even if it is unclear and mixed right now…"

After turning silent again, the white-haired immortal showed a doubtful, uncertain expression.

"But to possess such a desolate dao heart…is this really the dao of the Primordial Devil…?"