"Memories don't die. They are merely buried deep until the soul is in enough pain to unearth them with blood."
Amidst the deep layers of the Grand Burial Spirit Altar – The Spirit Burial Realm opens.
As the tear-shaped stone gate shattered, a gust of gray wind swept up from the abyss. The scenery before Lin Mo's eyes swirled.
No longer the ancient altar. No longer the silhouette of the white-clad woman.
Only a distorted world remained – where time did not exist, sounds were swallowed, and light was severed. The entire space was like an unhealed wound in the void.
The ashen voice resonated once more:
"This is the Spirit Burial Realm – where fragments of memories erased by the Heavenly Dao... are coming back to life."
Lin Mo was lost amidst the chaotic land, stepping upon shattered memories with each stride:
A child huddled in the darkness, crying as his spirit meridians were shattered.
A youth kneeling in the snow, blood congealing beneath his trembling fingers.
A woman embracing him in the rain... then being dragged away, her eyes frozen in despair.
With every step, he felt pain to his very soul. With every fragment of memory, he relived a spiritual death.
"Why must I remember?"
"Because to defy the heavens... you must carry all that the Heavenly Dao wants you to forget," the voice replied.
Suddenly, an ancient mirror of blood appeared before him, called the Blood Inquiry Mirror.
Reflected within it... was not him – but a crazed Lin Mo, overflowing with murderous intent, eyes vacant, laughing amidst a sea of blood.
"This is you... when you lose your reason, when you let hatred consume your Dao heart."
"Do you choose to preserve your soul... or choose to sacrifice your humanity for power?"
There was no right answer.
He stood still. His eyes closed. A drop of blood flowed from the corner of his mouth.
"If I must choose... I choose to cling to the pain."
"That very pain... keeps me from becoming a demon."
The blood mirror shattered. Fragments flew into his soul, burning away the layer of ash covering his memories.
From the midst of space, a silver-ash eye opened. Within it... ancient script appeared:
"Blood of Exile – one forsaken by heaven, yet unwilling to wander aimlessly."
Lin Mo was engulfed in bone-deep pain – his blood vessels fractured, each drop of blood restructuring according to an ancient, unrecorded profound system.
At that very moment, the first layer of the Primordial Dao of Life was rewritten – not with spiritual energy, but with memory, blood, and the will to defy the heavens.
"From today, my blood... is no longer a cursed lineage."
"But the Blood of Exile – that which will burn the laws of heaven, rewriting my name among the myriad realms."
Each drop of Lin Mo's blood fell onto the ancient stone floor... burning into ash. But that ash... flew back towards the sky, embedding itself into every crack of the Spirit Burial Realm.
A new life – beginning from the place where it was buried alive.