The dimly lit cave echoed with the sound of Liang Zhen's labored breathing. His frail body leaned against the jagged walls, exhaustion evident in every fiber of his being. His feet were swollen and bloodied from days of wandering, yet his resolve remained unbroken. In this sanctuary of darkness, he stumbled upon the skeleton—an ancient figure clad in tattered robes, seated in a meditative position, untouched by time.
At its side rested an ominous crimson crystal. Its surface glowed faintly, pulsating as though alive. Intrigued, Liang Zhen hesitated before reaching for it. The moment his fingers brushed the crystal, an overwhelming sensation surged through his mind. Memories, fragmented and chaotic, flooded his consciousness.
The memories were those of the ancient cultivator, a once-mighty figure whose name had been forgotten by time. The man spoke in Liang's mind, his voice filled with bitterness and longing. He offered his legacy—his techniques, knowledge, and power—hoping that someone would continue his path and restore his name.
But Liang Zhen refused.
"I am not your tool," Liang whispered, his voice hoarse yet resolved. "I will not follow in your footsteps or bear your legacy. I have my path, and it is mine alone."
The specter of the man's memory was silent for a moment before retreating, leaving only the lingering presence of the crystal. The memories revealed the crystal's origins: it was a vessel for the blood energy of beasts and humans, storing immense power but shrouded in mystery. Even the ancient cultivator, with all his knowledge, had been unable to decipher its true nature. He had kept it merely because of its strangeness and potential, unable to unlock its secrets.
As Liang held the crystal, its faint glow intensified. It pulsed in rhythm with his heartbeat, then abruptly merged with his body. He convulsed as the crystal's essence flowed into him, a flood of energy surging through his broken meridians. A torrent of pain followed, so excruciating it threatened to shatter his mind.
Through the pain, the crystal revealed a cultivation method etched deep within its core. The **Eternal Body**, a path of unimaginable difficulty and cruelty. The memories associated with it carried a dire warning: even the ancient cultivator had abandoned this method, deeming it too severe and inhuman. It required the cultivator to endure unspeakable suffering, pushing the body to its absolute limits and beyond.
"This method suits me," Liang muttered, his lips curling into a bitter smile. "Lonely, cruel, and unyielding—just like me."
The crystal's energy ignited the process. With each pulse, it began reshaping his body. Liang Zhen collapsed to the ground, writhing in agony. His muscles tore and reformed, his bones fractured and knit themselves back together, and his blood boiled as it was infused with raw power. The pain was unbearable; it felt as though his very soul was being ripped apart.
If not for his unyielding will to live—a defiance born of years of ridicule, abandonment, and suffering—he would have succumbed to death. Blood pooled around him, soaking the cave floor, but Liang refused to yield. He bit his lip until it bled, his face pale and drenched in sweat.
Hours stretched into eternity, but finally, the pain began to subside. He lay motionless, his chest heaving as he clung to consciousness. When he opened his eyes, he realized something astonishing: his senses had heightened to a supernatural level. Though blind, he could now perceive the world around him with beginningless clarity. Every sound, every vibration in the air painted a vivid picture in his mind. It was as if his other senses had risen to compensate for his lost sight.
Liang Zhen had ascended to the **first level of the Eternal Body**, but the ordeal had left him forever changed. He clenched his fists, feeling the newfound strength coursing through his veins. Yet, he knew this was only the beginning. The Eternal Body demanded unimaginable sacrifices to progress further.
As he stood, blood-stained and resolute, the cave seemed to hum with his determination. The crystal's glow had faded, its energy spent. Liang Zhen turned his gaze—or what would have been his gaze—toward the cave's exit.
"I chose this path," he whispered to himself, his voice steady despite the weight of his words. "A path no one has walked before. If death comes, so be it. But until then, I will carve my existence into this world."
And with that, he stepped into the darkness, his heart hardened, his solution unshakable, ready to face whatever lay ahead. The Eternal Body was his path, and he would see it through, no matter the cost.