Golden_Satyr

In a fractured world where shadows whisper forgotten truths, a man cursed with a dark awakening hungers for power no mortal should wield. Guided by a forbidden art, he learns to devour the lingering essence of the dead; their strength, their memories, their shadows.

However with each stolen fragment, the line between human and something sinister blurs.

As ancient forces stir and the ruins of empires watch in silence, he walks a razor’s edge: Will the shadows forge him into a conqueror, or unravel him into the very darkness he seeks to master? 

The price of ascension is paid in blood but the dead do not rest quietly.....

Devil's Shadow, Heaven's Bane

In the aftermath of the bloody feast, as the echoes of battle still reverberated in the air, Zhang Yan retreated into solitude. The remnants of stolen qi; dark, potent, and raw; coursed within him, swirling beneath his skin like a living tide. The chill of dawn had barely begun to thaw the night's fury when he found a quiet alcove behind the make-shift barracks of the Blood Banner.

There, away from the din of the camp and the murmurs of his comrades, Zhang Yan sank onto a cold stone ledge. He closed his eyes and let the tumult of the previous battle settle into a deep, internal silence. His shadow, still flickering at his feet, pulsed with the echoes of every fallen enemy; a silent ledger of their life essence, now his to command.

He began to meditate, drawing on the stolen qi that his shadow had devoured. In his mind's eye, he saw the crimson energy; the lifeblood of his foes; flowing like molten metal into his core. With every exhalation, he allowed that dark power to seep into his meridians, merging with his own qi. The process was both brutal and exquisite: a transformation wrought from the chaos of battle and the relentless hunger of the shadows.

As moments stretched into an eternity, he felt his body tremble with unrestrained potential. His Infernal Sanguine Heart, already kindled in the heat of combat, roared quietly within him. The painful throb in his side, once a constant reminder of his vulnerability, began to dull as the stolen qi mended his wounds. His qi grew denser, coarser, as if it were being remolded into something far more formidable.

And then, with a sudden, explosive clarity, Zhang Yan felt it: a violent rupture as though the very fabric of his being were splitting open. His mind flooded with the raw intensity of newfound power, and in that split second, he shattered the confines of Mid Flesh Tempering, ascending into the Late Flesh Tempering realm; only to witness that barrier crumble further as he surged toward the elusive Pinnacle of Flesh Tempering perfection.

Chapter 28: Crucible of Ascension( Part 1)