Nacco_Narse

Blood and Essence follows the journey of ''Elian'', a boy born without spirit energy in a world where power defines destiny. Branded as “Spiritless,” he is mocked, ignored, and destined for a life of servitude—until a mysterious event awakens something ancient within him.
 
One night, under the moonlight beside a forgotten lake, Elian’s fate shatters. A golden light surges into his chest, revealing that his spirit veins were never empty—they were simply ''too powerful to be seen''. They belong to a lost lineage, one that carries a forbidden essence… a force older and deeper than the spirit energy the world knows.
 
Thrust into a realm of cultivation, secrecy, and danger, Elian hides his power to survive. He enters a powerful sect not as a disciple, but as a lowly servant. But with every quiet step he takes, every battle he secretly wins, every ancient technique he masters in silence, he climbs toward a destiny no one could have predicted.
 
As he uncovers the truth about his power, the spirit world, and the war that once shattered the heavens, Elian must choose: remain in the shadows, or rise and risk becoming the very force that reshapes the world.

Blood and Essence

The passage beneath the Flame Court was colder than Elian expected. It descended in a spiral staircase carved into black stone, every step illuminated by golden fire that danced within wall-carved glyphs. The further he went, the more the world above seemed like a memory—distant, irrelevant.

Down here, it wasn't just quiet. It was sacred.

After what felt like an hour, the staircase ended in a cavernous chamber. Twelve pillars encircled the room, each carved with flames, battles, and strange beasts Elian had never seen. In the center stood a pedestal, and on it: a bowl of silver flame.

The Ashbound blade on his back pulsed.

"If you would reclaim what was lost, you must be tested. Not in strength. Not in will. But in truth."

The silver flame leapt from the bowl and swirled around him.

He was pulled inward, deep into memory. But not his own.

Flames roared around him. Corpses of cultivators lay scattered, their auras extinguished. The sky was blood.

He looked like Elian. But younger. Eyes wide with fear. Holding a blade far too large for him.

A woman lay behind the child, bleeding out. She reached for him.

Elian watched as the boy screamed and charged. Watched as the blade glowed gold. As the shadow fell. As the child fell too.

Elian was older now. Fifteen. Surrounded by flames. His hands were bound. Cultivators stood above him, faces filled with hatred.

"A child like you should never have existed. Spiritless filth with power you didn't earn."

The flame was gone. The bowl now cold. But something inside him had changed.

His veins glowed gold and white, brighter than ever. His cultivation had surged. Not just energy—understanding. Memories had awakened. Echoes of who he had been, and what he was meant to become.

And the Hidden Trial had only begun.

Far above, in the ruins of the court, a shadow emerged.

It wore the robes of a Flamebound elder.

"So, the heir awakens," it hissed. "Let us see how long he burns."

Chapter 15: The Hidden Trial