Zhua remained completely still for what felt like an eternity.
Two or three minutes, perhaps longer,it didn’t matter in the slightest.
“What the hell is that thing…?” he muttered to himself.
The monster was no longer looking at him.
It seemed to have fallen asleep again.
“That bastard,” he cursed through clenched teeth, anger rising within him.
It really thinks I’m weak?
Fine…
I’ll make it regret looking down on me.
Zhua returned to the ruined city, searching desperately for anything that could be used as a weapon or a means of defense.
Eventually, in the basement of one of the collapsed houses, he found a sword.
Beside it lay the skeleton of what appeared to have been a child.
Zhua showed no visible reaction, although the fingers of his right hand dug so deeply into his palm that blood slowly trickled out.
Without a word, he climbed back to the surface and resumed his journey.
To avoid being spotted by that monstrous creature, he was forced to crawl through the snow.
Seriously…
I hate snow.
I can’t stand the sight of it, he thought.
The freezing landscape reminded him of a memory from when he was six years old.
He had been playing in the snow with his adoptive mother.
Zhua shook his head, trying to drive the memory away and focus on the present.
And yet, those memories were the only thing keeping him even slightly sane, the only thing stopping him from giving in to madness.
So, despite trying to ignore them, he treasured them deep within his soul.
After a moment of thought, he decided to avoid the front of the ruined temple and circle around to the back instead.
A few minutes later, he reached the rear side of the structure.
Suddenly, his foot struck something hidden beneath the snow.
He crouched down and hit the ground with his fist, feeling the unmistakable texture of wood.
Quickly, he brushed the snow aside with his hands and uncovered a heavy trapdoor secured by thick iron chains, now frozen solid.
“Damn it…” he cursed.
Zhua pulled the key from around his neck and inserted it into the lock.
He twisted it, and a faint clicking sound echoed through the silence.
The mechanism worked.
But the chains remained.
Grinding his teeth, he stood up and kicked them with all his strength.
“Damn it! Damn it!” he shouted.
He grabbed the frozen chains with both hands and tried to tear them apart, but they didn’t even budge.
“Damn it!!”
His frustration grew stronger and stronger.
He thought desperately, but he had almost no options left.
And even less time.
He had to hurry.
More than anything else, Zhua wanted to devour those chains—to erase them from existence because they stood in his way.
He wanted to devour every obstacle before him.
That was his desire.
That was his will.
Then, suddenly, he felt something deep within himself crack.
No…
It wasn’t breaking.
It was awakening.
A boundless, all-consuming hunger was born in the depths of his soul.
Yet, instead of running wild, that hunger condensed upon itself, compressing endlessly until it formed a perfect sphere overflowing with insatiable appetite.
Then he heard a voice.
It was different from the Tower’s voice, which had always sounded cold and emotionless.
This one was dark…
and amused.
No.
It was excited.
Curious.
Proud.
As though the voice itself belonged to the world.
It whispered softly into his ears:
[You have unlocked your Dao!]