"It's not your average cultivation method. Instead of sup-" he suddenly cut himself off. "Ah, but descriptions are so... dull." He cracked his knuckles. "Why tell you when I can show you?" the demon's grin widened, his molten-gold eyes gleaming with mischief.
The demon's claws parted like a sculptor unveiling his masterpiece. Twin spheres of primordial energy materialized—one vibrant emerald, throbbing with the heartbeat of a thousand forests, the other rotting indigo, reeking of open graves and final breaths.
"Opposing forces," the demon said, tilting his hands so the orbs spiraled around each other, never touching. "Life," he purred, rolling the green orb across his knuckles. Vines sprouted where it touched his skin, only to wither instantly. "And Death." The indigo sphere pulsed, and the chamber's torch flames guttered as if suffocated.
He chuckled. "Normally, cultivators avoid opposing Lu at whatever cost they can. "
"Buncha wusses."
He dismissed them with a wave, the gesture a prelude to the snap of his fingers.
"Watch closely. This is what your dull mortal eyes refuse to see."
A needle-thread of his will stabbed into Theon's mind. The world shattered—then reassembled in fractured clarity. Suddenly, Theon could see them: Chaos Lu particles, like dying stars flickering in and out of existence, swarming the space between the two clashing energies.
Then he slammed the orbs together.
The collision was silent—for a heartbeat. Then reality itself shuddered. The space between the Lu fractured, and from the cracks, black-and-silver motes bled into existence—Chaos Lu, flickering like dying embers.
"There," the demon murmured. "The spark." He turned his palm, and the motes swirled into a vortex. "Normally, you'd never see these. Chaos Lu exists between forces, in the split-second when energies annihilate each other. Fleeting. Uncontrollable."
The Chaos Lu particles weren't just around the demon's hands—they were everywhere, flickering in and out like ghosts, born from every tiny conflict in the world: the friction of air, the tension in Theon's own muscles.
"Your body already makes them," the demon said. "You're just too blind to notice." He flicked a mote toward Theon. It hovered, innocent as a firefly, before—
PAIN.
It was every pain at once—his bones splintering, his veins boiling, his nerves unraveling like yarn. He screamed, but no sound came out; his lungs had already turned to ash. The Chaos Lu devoured him, peeling back layers of his being as if flaying a fruit to its core.
"Ah, yes," the demon mused, watching Theon's body twist and blister. "This is the part where most people die."
He snapped his fingers again.
The pain vanished. Theon collapsed, whole and unmarked, his heaving breaths the only proof anything had happened. The chamber stood undisturbed, the Lu particles gone as if they'd never existed.
"That," the demon said cheerfully, "is the [Chaos Asura Purification Mantra]. You flood your body with that—let it shred your meridians, let it burn your Lu to cinders—and what survives emerges stronger." He leaned in. "Fun, right?"
But of course, without letting Theon answer he continued.
"Now, the best part!" The demon twirled a claw, conjuring the torn journal again. "You can pair it with another technique. Most cultivators would kill for that advantage." His grin turned feral. "Assuming the Chaos doesn't kill you first."
The demon's eyes sparkled with mischief. "But, there's a catch. You'll feel excruciating pain, as literal chaos tears through your meridians. And, naturally, if you pick this gem, I can give you a little... guidance along the way.
The air around them sparked, small explosions popping in rapid succession, as if the world itself was reacting to the chaos the demon was offering.
"Chaos Lu happens to be a specialty of mine." the demon added with a grin, clearly enjoying himself.
Theon's mind raced, a frantic hummingbird trapped in a storm. Offer? It was no offer.
The demon had 'slipped up' by calling him a guinea pig on purpose, no matter what Theon had estimated, it seemed that this demon was more than the third plane. Theon's life didn't matter to the demon. No matter how casually he talked and how much leeway he seemed to be giving Theon, it was all superficial. Theon didn't matter to the demon. There was no room for refusal, no path to rejection, not if he wanted to see tomorrow.
He forced his gaze upward, meeting the demon's eyes for the first time. They were an abyss, an infinite void that threatened to swallow him whole. "I agree," Theon choked out.
The demon's grin widened, his eyes gleaming with a predatory delight. "I knew you would. Smart choice, little mortal."
He extended his hand for a handshake, and as Theon clasped it, a cold, invasive force entered his consciousness. A dark, swirling band of energy wrapped itself around his left bicep like a tattoo, sealing the deal. The knowledge of the [Chaos Asura Purification Mantra] flooded his mind, its complexities unraveling before him.
"Ah I never did introduce myself, did I?" the demon smiled at Theon knowingly.
"I am Aricaz." The name was simple, but the mere mention of it made existence itself seem to curl, a shudder entering Theon's soul.
"No need for any 'Sir' or 'Your Esteemed Omnipotence' or whatever. Just Aricaz. I truly abhor formalities."
"Alright then, that's our business concluded. I shall see you—" Aricaz began, but Theon cut him off.
This was his only opportunity to get back to Spectra.
"Aricaz, help me get back to my world."
Though he may have seemed rude, Theon estimated that Aricaz would actually like a brash, straightforward relationship more. Besides, if Aricaz was as powerful as Theon estimated, then sending him back would be an afterthought. Especially since Aricaz had read Theon's memories, he knew Theon wanted to go back. He was just waiting for Theon to speak up.
"Oh, that?" Aricaz broke into a devilish grin . "Don't worry, violating the space of a mere second planar world is no problem."
The world turned black for Theon. Disorientation overwhelmed him as the fabric of reality warped and twisted around him.
When he reoriented, the cold stone floor was gone, replaced by damp earth. The stale air of the chamber was gone, replaced by the familiar scent of pine and something metallic—blood. He was naked, standing in a clearing, the rustle of leaves around him, and the stunned, wide-eyed faces of his squad staring back.
"Hello everybody." he said, his voice even and calm as if it was a casual morning greeting.
"Did I miss anything?"