Chapter 18: Core Formation

The stone chamber pulsed with faint infernal light as Malikai sat cross-legged, the Void Serpent's heart core resting in his open palms. It beat faintly, still pulsing with remnant void infernal energy — cold, abyssal, and unfathomable. A treasure formed over a couple of decades in the heart of a divine void beast that fed on spatial distortions and chaos storms.

Malikai closed his eyes and began revolving the Asura Devouring Technique.

His breathing slowed, becoming rhythmic and calm as an invisible vortex opened within him. Threads of void energy coiled out of the core like black serpents, drawn toward the hungry whirlpool of his cultivation method. His meridians lit up like rivers of molten ink, greedily absorbing the dark energy. At first, it came in trickles, and he guided it slowly, carefully. The Void Serpent's essence was corrosive and unstable — one wrong step could destroy his cultivation entirely.

But the Asura Devouring Technique was made to feast on such power.

Void infernal energy poured into his meridians, fortifying his blood, hardening his bones like black steel, and expanding his dantian until it felt like the universe itself was pressing against his core.

Then came the transformation.

His once-liquid qi sea, already vastly larger than his peers, began to glisten. Crystalline patterns spread across the surface like frost on a lake, until wave after wave of it solidified. It gleamed with hues of dark amethyst and abyssal crimson, still swirling with immense vitality.

He could feel the pressure building — a sense of impending change that he couldn't ignore, even though his father had warned him not to rush.

He didn't know why, but deep within, something called to him.

The moment had come.

Malikai gritted his teeth and drew his focus inward, channeling the condensed qi with terrifying precision. His crystallized qi sea trembled before collapsing inward, compressing like a dying star. The pressure was immense. It felt like his soul was being dragged into a singularity.

And then — silence.

The pressure vanished in a single breath.

In the center of his dantian floated a demonic core — smooth, blood red, and glowing faintly. It pulsed with terrifying power, sending out shockwaves of strength that flooded his meridians and redefined the very nature of his body.

Malikai inhaled.

The world changed.

He could feel the stone beneath him, the air particles moving, the subtle tremors in the mountain range outside. Every breath, every sound, every vibration — he felt it all.

So this was Core Formation.

A deep thrum echoed through him — not from outside, but from within.

His soul quivered.

He clutched his head as something sublime passed through him, as though a divine wind had brushed his spirit. His soul was sublimating. His senses expanded. And then, faint rustling echoed in his mind, like leaves stirring in an endless forest.

Malikai gasped, recalling the lectures from the clan's soul arts division.

"At Core Formation, cultivators may awaken their Knowledge Sea — the gateway to Divine Sense and soul-based abilities."

With a single thought, he willed his spirit forward.

Darkness.

Then light.

Malikai found himself suspended above an endless chasm, a bloody mist rolling beneath him. At first, he thought it was a lake. But the deeper he gazed, the wider it became — a blood-red river, flowing endlessly. Then it widened further, growing until it spanned the horizon.

A crimson sea — vast, unending, and alive.

This was his Knowledge Sea.

And it was wrong.

Knowledge Seas were always clear, reflective, blue, or silver. That was the universal law of all races. Even the humans, unrivaled in soul cultivation, had vast, clear Knowledge Seas. But this… this was blood. Thick, churning, abyssal blood. The sky above was not sky — it was mist, stained the color of dried gore, roiling with demonic power.

He floated downward and found solid footing at the center of the blood sea — or what he thought was the center. Distance felt... meaningless here.

Then he saw it.

In the distance, rising from the sea like a celestial spear, stood a tree — no, a monolith of life.

Its bark glowed with a gentle white light, and from its branches hung leaves of gold and jade, rustling softly despite the still air. The tree rose impossibly high, piercing through the blood-red heavens above and vanishing into the unknown. Its roots extended deep into the sea of blood, and yet… its aura was the antithesis of all that surrounded it.

Where the blood sea radiated hatred, destruction, and chaos…

The tree radiated purity.

Divinity.

Sanctity.

It made no sense.

Everything about his Knowledge Sea screamed demonic. And yet this sacred tree stood at the center, uncorrupted, unyielding.

What was it?

Why was it here?

Who had planted something divine within the abyss of his soul?

His heart pounded — not from fear, but from a sense of awakening. As though this was only the first ripple of something greater. Something buried beneath countless eons.

He stepped forward toward the tree, and the sea trembled as if responding to his will.

The Crimson Sea was his.

And so was whatever this sacred tree represented.