"When blood has touched the ground, I am no longer the person of yesterday."
To stand amidst heaven and earth, one must make their own soul know: who I am.
After the Spirit Burial Realm – The Crack Between Heaven and Heart
When he emerged from the layer of ashen rock, Lin Mo's body was covered in blood, his soul still seemed to be burning.
The Blood of Exile, newly revived, immediately caused an internal conflict – making the aura within his body flicker, his divine soul unable to stabilize.
"You have entered the Dao. But if your soul cannot keep up... you will die by your own flame."
The ashen voice echoed, then suddenly faded.
Before him... a black cylindrical stone altar, over three zhang high, appeared – its surface carved with tens of thousands of spiral characters. Each character was like a drop of blood consumed by fire.
"Heart-Questioning Fire Altar..." he murmured.
From his burned memories, this name appeared: an ancient spirit-refining formation – once used to cleanse the souls of the Heaven Emperor of old.
Standing on the altar, his body was enveloped by a Heart-Questioning Flame, completely without heat – yet each breath felt like stripping away layers of his ego.
Before him... was himself again.
Not his physical body. Not darkness.
But a Lin Mo from when he was a genius, his eyes clear, full of arrogance.
"Who are you?" the shadow asked.
"You once wished to become a Saint for your mother, for your clansmen, for fame. So today, what do you cultivate for?"
Lin Mo remained silent.
The flame on the Fire Altar flared, tearing his clothes, cracking his bones, but he still did not answer.
"If you do not know what you are living for – you are not worthy of refining the divine!"
When his body was almost burnt to ashes, he suddenly opened his eyes.
A line of text appeared in his heart – not mortal script – but ancient characters belonging to Primordial Chaos:
"Refining the soul is not to become stronger."
"But to retain a 'me' that cannot be rewritten by the Heavenly Dao."
At that moment, a ray of light from the stone altar pierced directly into his forehead – his divine soul trembled, fragmented soul mists broke apart – then restructured.
Lin Mo collapsed, sweat and blood mixing together.
In his Sea of Consciousness – a spiritual entity in his likeness, but ethereal as smoke, appeared.
This was the nascent Divine Consciousness – the first seed of "Self-Aware Soul" in the Primordial Dao of Life.
As he was still staggering down from the Fire Altar, from a distance, a stream of ghostly souls glided towards him – then transformed into the phantom of the white-clad woman.
But unlike before... she was no longer cold.
Instead, her eyes were hazy, as if a sealed soul was trying to call out someone's name.
"Lin... Mo..."
A stream of blood flowed from her glabella – then dissolved into the wind, leaving behind a faint scent of peach blossoms.
Lin Mo froze. His heart, which had been tempered by fire and ash... involuntarily trembled.
"She... hasn't truly forgotten me."
"If the path I choose makes her forget me... then I will walk that path to the very end – to reclaim the memories that were erased."
A silver-ash flame erupted in his soul.
Not for cultivation. Not for revenge.
But for... a gaze that had never said all it needed to say.