As time passed, the focus of both Luo Tang and YunKai Tao deepened, their minds and bodies fully attuned to the circulation of their inner energy. Each breath, each pulse of blood, became a rhythm of control and refinement, a silent symphony of power flowing through their veins. The mist around the plateau swirled gently, as if respecting the stillness and intensity of their meditation.
Luo Tang, seated on the left side, gradually felt a subtle shift within himself. At first, it was almost imperceptible — a faint stirring, like a whisper echoing through the depths of his blood energy. Yet as he concentrated, he realized it was more than a simple vibration. Something unusual, something hidden, was present deep within his circulation.
It was unlike the raw, fiery energy he was accustomed to. This presence was subtle, elusive, and fleeting — a glimmer that appeared only for a moment before receding, like a shadow that touched the edges of his awareness. And yet, despite its delicacy, Luo Tang sensed its immense potential. It carried the weight of mystery, the unmistakable aura of an inheritance that had slumbered silently within him, waiting for the right moment to awaken.
In the midst of his own red blood flow — the foundation of his strength and vitality — he detected a faint glow, almost imperceptible, but undeniably present. Golden light, delicate and refined, shimmered deep within, complementing the natural energy of his blood. It did not overpower, nor disrupt, but rather harmonized with his existing flow, like a hidden melody merging with a familiar tune.
The sensation left him both excited and cautious. It was a power that he could neither fully grasp nor control yet — a subtle inheritance, a latent spark of potential that seemed to pulse in quiet anticipation. For a moment, Luo Tang's heart raced with the possibilities: if nurtured, this hidden force could transform him, amplify his cultivation, and perhaps even rival the strongest of his peers in time.
He exhaled slowly, focusing again on the circulation of his blood, feeling the golden glow complement his red blood energy, strengthening it in ways that were hard to describe but undeniably beneficial. It was as if the energy itself whispered a promise — that within him lay a hidden path, one that could unfold only through patience, training, and the refinement of his own spirit.
At the same time, YunKai Tao remained in quiet meditation on the right, unaware of Luo Tang's subtle discovery. His own struggle with the black-centered blood energy continued, a delicate balance maintained by the fents and the hidden wards of his heart. Yet, despite the dangers and mysteries surrounding him, he remained resolute, honing his control with every passing moment.
For the other observers — the elders and the young warriors watching from a distance — both boys appeared calm, almost ordinary in their meditation. The mist swirled lightly around them, and the plateau's silence seemed almost reverent, as if acknowledging the magnitude of what was unfolding. Yet beneath that serene exterior, an unseen drama raged within their blood, their energy, and their very souls.
Luo Tang carried the weight of an extraordinary inheritance that he could not yet fully comprehend, a mysterious power hidden deep in his blood, shimmering faintly like golden sparks in the crimson flow. YunKai Tao, however, faced a far graver truth — one that pressed on him with the weight of inevitability.
As time passed and his meditation deepened, YunKai Tao's understanding sharpened. The black blood at the center of his energy — the wild, devouring force he had long sensed but never fully understood — was no longer just a subtle threat. Its nature became clear: it was an entity within him, a parasite of darkness, constantly attempting to absorb his life force.
"The black blood… it wants to devour me," YunKai Tao realized, his chest tightening at the gravity of the truth. He could feel it now with absolute clarity, its hunger like a shadow pressing against every pulse of his circulation. "The other five-colored fents… they suppress it… but one day, they might fail. And when that happens…" His mind shivered at the thought. "…that day will be my last. Either I die, or I become a shell — a man without control, lost to this force entirely."
The weight of that knowledge crushed him for a moment. He could imagine the horror: a life without command over one's own body, a mind consumed by an inner demon, every breath and movement no longer his own. A being trapped in his own flesh, forced to watch as the black blood took control, unstoppable and absolute.
Yet amidst the fear, determination burned brighter. YunKai Tao knew that to survive, to truly endure this internal threat, he could not rely on the suppression alone. The golden light, red, white, blue, and green fents were guardians, yes, but they were not infinite. One day, their effect could weaken, and the black blood's hunger could surge beyond containment.
"If I am to survive," he thought, voice barely audible even to himself, "I must become stronger than the suppression itself. Stronger than any stage of cultivation. I cannot stop at Foundation Establishment. I must surpass it — reach a level beyond anyone else, beyond ordinary limits — so that I can control my own body, my own mind, and even this black blood inside me. Otherwise… there is no tomorrow."
The realization brought a tremor of both fear and resolve. It was no longer a matter of proving skill, of competing with others, or of surpassing peers. This was about life and death, about mastering not only his energy but himself. Every breath, every circulation of his blood, every pulse of energy became a deliberate, calculated act. Each movement was a step toward the power he would need to tame, control, and ultimately coexist with the black entity that threatened him.
He pictured it vividly: the black blood, surging like a storm, clashing against the golden fents, the red and white reinforcing the shield, blue and green stabilizing the currents. He could feel the delicate balance, the tension, the absolute necessity of maintaining control. Any lapse, any distraction, could give the black blood a foothold. And the consequences… they were unthinkable.
Yet even in that terror, a quiet fire ignited within him. He would not be a victim of fate. He would not be consumed. Each circulation of blood, each refinement of his energy, was a step toward ultimate control. To truly master the black blood, he would need strength beyond imagination, willpower beyond ordinary limits, and cultivation that transcended the boundaries of any known stage.
He drew a slow, deliberate breath, letting the colors of his blood energy shimmer around him, feeling the golden light fortify the center of his heart, red and white reinforcing it, blue and green stabilizing the flow around it, and the ruby formations deep within anchoring the structure. The black blood pulsed in response, restless, but contained — for now.
"This is not just about breaking through," he thought, eyes narrowing in determination. "It's about becoming strong enough to command myself completely. Strong enough to bend this wild force into submission. Strong enough to survive, and to rise beyond anyone else. Only then… only then… will I be truly free."
In the distance, Luo Tang mirrored his own focus, unaware of the full depth of his cousin's struggle, but feeling the quiet inspiration of YunKai Tao's energy. The plateau remained sacred, quiet, and charged with the unspoken promise of greatness. Two young warriors, each facing their own invisible trials, continued their meditation, their inner resolve burning brighter than any external display of power.
And within YunKai Tao, the black blood pulsed, a dark heartbeat echoing through every vein, twisting and clawing at the edges of his consciousness. The five-colored fents — golden, red, white, green, and blue — shimmered in tense harmony, restraining the wild hunger, suppressing the chaos that sought to devour him from within. The hidden defenses deep in his body held firm, intricate formations of ruby-like wards circulating silently around his heart and major blood vessels, creating a lattice of protection that not even his own perception could fully grasp.
For now, containment prevailed, but YunKai Tao's mind was no longer clouded by ignorance. The truth of his path pressed upon him like the weight of a mountain: to survive, to control his own destiny, he would have to rise above every human limitation, surpass every known stage, and confront the darkness lurking in his very blood. The realization struck with cold clarity, chilling and awakening him simultaneously.
A subtle tremor ran through his body. His lips quivered involuntarily, and a vibration emerged from deep within his throat — a voice ancient and resonant, seeming to originate not from his vocal cords but from the very essence of his blood. It was a low, layered sound, almost imperceptible at first, yet it carried a weight that pressed on the mind and spirit of anyone nearby.
Even the elders, watching from a distance, and the other young warriors scattered across the plateau, felt it. A vibration in the air, like a pulse of pure energy, brushed against their senses. Mist swirled around them, rippling unnaturally, and the faint resonance carried words — blurred, fragmented, but unmistakably meaningful:
"Blood is not merely life… it is consciousness. It remembers, it resists, it chooses… Darkness devours the unprepared, but those who understand will command it."
The words, half-heard, half-felt, vibrated through the very air of the plateau. Even at a distance, a sense of pressure and awe settled over all present. It was not just YunKai Tao's awakening — it was a revelation that brushed the edges of reality itself, a force that none could ignore.
Inside him, the black blood recoiled, like a predator sensing a boundary it could not cross. The pressure of the resonance pressed on it, slowing its surge, as if the words themselves, combined with YunKai Tao's will, had created a barrier beyond physical energy. The golden light at the center of his heart flared, reinforced by the red and white fents, while green and blue shimmered across the peripheral circulations, stabilizing the flow. The ruby wards embedded deep within his blood network pulsed faintly, like thousands of tiny eyes observing and containing the darkness.
For the first time, the black blood hesitated. Its wild hunger, which had always been unchecked, now felt a limit, a restraint that it could not easily surpass. And though YunKai Tao could not see it fully, he sensed it — a subtle recoil, a warning, a recognition of his latent mastery.
A blurred enlightenment washed over him. The words reverberated in his consciousness, fragmented yet potent:
"You are not the vessel… you are the master. Shadow and light, destruction and creation, lie within you. Only by knowing yourself — and knowing the darkness — can you command it. Yield not, or be consumed."
The resonance sank deep into his marrow, settling like molten fire in his chest. YunKai Tao's pulse raced as fragments of understanding solidified: his blood was not merely a conduit of energy. It was alive, sentient in part, carrying memory, intent, and potential beyond ordinary comprehension. The black blood was a primal adversary, a force both destructive and formative, bound to him by lineage and fate. The fents were guardians, but the ultimate command depended on him — on his awareness, his mastery, and his will.
A shiver ran through the plateau as the mist responded to the residual energy. Even the elders, wise and experienced, felt a faint tremor in their hearts, a recognition of the rare, unspoken phenomenon unfolding before them. For the others, the scene remained serene, yet their instincts tingled with the weight of something beyond ordinary cultivation.
YunKai Tao's eyes narrowed, lips still trembling, as the full gravity of his situation crystallized in his mind:
"I cannot merely surpass others… I must surpass everything. Every stage. Every limit. Every shadow within me. Only by mastering myself — by bending the darkness to my will — will I truly survive."
Inside him, the black blood throbbed, testing boundaries, coiling and recoiling like a storm restrained by invisible chains. But now, for the first time, it recognized resistance. The resonance of the words, the latent mastery of his will, and the subtle reinforcement of the fents combined to form a barrier unlike anything it had encountered.
As YunKai Tao's voice resonated, Luo Tang, seated to the left and unaware of the depths of the unfolding phenomenon, suddenly felt it. The sound echoed within his mind like an infinite wall, stretching endlessly in every direction. At first, it was incomprehensible, a jumble of vibrations and impressions. Slowly, the meaning began to crystallize according to his understanding:
"Blood… energy… inheritance… hidden potential… control beyond flesh and stage…"
Though Luo Tang could not perceive the full truth, he instinctively sensed that YunKai Tao's words were not mere sound — they were a bridge, a resonance of life force and consciousness, touching his own latent energy. His crimson blood pulsed in sync with the echo, a tingling fire awakening in his core, and he felt a mysterious complementing force deep in his veins — something golden, subtle, like a hidden inheritance stirring.
The two boys, though physically distant, became linked in this shared awareness. Their consciousness intertwined with their blood energy, with the fents, and with the invisible currents of the plateau. Time seemed to stretch, and as their understanding deepened, the surroundings began to react. The air darkened, a palpable pressure sweeping outward from the training ground. Clouds thickened unnaturally, rolling and condensing, and the darkness began to expand — first a thousand feet, then a mile, then five, then ten miles. The entire village and hidden valley fell under its suffocating shadow.
And then, as if the land itself recognized the awakening, the man and woman appeared in the sky — Luo Tang's parents — standing free, unsupported by anything, hovering calmly. They radiated energy, unseen by any mortal eye. The woman's body glowed with a gentle, green aura that seemed to hum with life and balance. The man radiated deep blue, steady and resolute, both of their energies resonating subtly with the colored fents within YunKai Tao's blood. YunKai Tao instinctively felt it — a strange, familiar pressure, echoing the golden, red, and white energies that fought to suppress the black blood within him.
The woman's voice, calm yet tinged with concern, broke the silence:
"This darkness… it feels like Tao's Seal. But why is it leaking beyond him?"
The man's deep voice answered, steady and measured:
"I do not know… we supply our energy to help him suppress it, yet we ourselves have not fully recovered. This leak is not caused by our support — it has to do with Tao's breakthrough. Something awakened within him that we cannot fully see."
The woman nodded slowly, her green aura flickering faintly. "Then we must ensure it does not grow uncontrollable… but how far has he reached without our guidance? So young, yet such a force."
The man's eyes glimmered beneath the deep blue aura. "He is walking the edge. One misstep, and the black blood could break through. But perhaps… perhaps he is meant to face this. It is not only the black blood's challenge, but his own trial of mastery."
Their conversation was sparse but weighty, echoing faintly in the minds of the two boys. Even the elders, standing some distance away, could not sense the presence of the parents, yet they instinctively felt the shift in the air — a surge of energy that pressed upon the plateau like a living force.
As the darkness continued to spread, the elders took precautionary measures. Each moved outward from YunKai Tao and Luo Tang, creating a protective circle, while the other young warriors followed. Every elder's posture radiated readiness — if anything went wrong, they would intervene immediately to save the boys. The air vibrated with tension, and the once serene plateau now felt like the edge of an approaching storm.
The black clouds continued to swell, thickening overhead, growing darker and more oppressive with every passing moment. Yet beneath the pressure and the spreading shadow, YunKai Tao and Luo Tang remained seated, immersed in the resonance of their own blood energy, each sensing the subtle truths awakening within themselves. The golden, red, white, green, and blue fents danced invisibly around YunKai Tao, while Luo Tang's latent inheritance pulsed like a hidden sun within his veins.
The entire village, the valley, even the distant peaks were swallowed by the shadow of the spreading energy. The sky above had darkened unnaturally, as though the day itself had been eclipsed — no sun, no moon, no stars, only a thick, suffocating night. The darkness pressed down like a living entity, pulsating from the center, where YunKai Tao sat, his handsome face and tender frame shrouded in an aura of chilling power.
Even those who loved him most — elders, friends, and distant villagers — felt a shiver of fear, as if merely being near him carried the danger of instant annihilation. From YunKai Tao radiated a cool, misty darkness, an oppressive aura that whispered of death and oblivion, of a force that could erase life with but a thought. The mist curled around him, wrapping the plateau in a veil of shadow that seemed almost conscious, pressing outward in waves that flattened grass and made leaves tremble like frightened spirits.
Yet, in stark contrast, Luo Tang remained untouched by the palpable dread. Seated to the left, his eyes closed in deep meditation, his body and mind immersed in the hidden recesses of his blood, he was oblivious to the terrifying spectacle. Within him, energy swirled in secret channels, ruby lights and faint golden glows moving silently as he explored the latent inheritance buried deep in his veins. Nothing in the external world could disturb him; the darkness did not reach him, for his focus had fully merged with his inner self.
As the oppressive blackness peaked, the plateau seemed to hold its breath. Every branch, every stone, every blade of grass trembled under the weight of the energy. And then, as if the universe itself had decided to intervene, a sudden rupture of light appeared above the darkness. The sky seemed to split, a subtle shimmer at first, like the flutter of a curtain. From that point, a dazzling display of color erupted — twelve distinct, vivid hues bursting into existence, weaving and spiraling above the valley like the awakening of a divine eye.
The twelve colors were not merely light; they were living, sentient phenomena, twisting and bending as if aware of the oppressive blackness below. Red, blue, green, gold, white, violet, cyan, magenta, amber, silver, indigo, and crimson — each hue carried its own unique energy, a force distinct yet harmoniously intertwined with the others. They spun in the sky, forming intricate patterns, luminous spirals, and interlocking circles, as if the heavens themselves were weaving a cage to contain the shadow.
At the center of this miraculous display was YunKai Tao, the epicenter of the darkness, who felt the sudden shift as though a thousand blades of energy pricked at the black blood within him. The twelve colors struck outward from the sky, converging toward him, their combined brilliance pressing against the dark aura, forcing it to recede in tiny, writhing tendrils. His chest heaved as the fents within him flared in resonance, the golden, red, white, green, and blue lights intertwining with the external phenomenon. The black blood recoiled instinctively, compressed and suppressed by the overwhelming celestial energies.
Yet even as the world above and around him erupted in a riot of divine color, Luo Tang remained steadfast in meditation. He was a still point in the storm, unbroken, his focus deepened by the resonance of his own inheritance. He could sense, faintly, the pressure of the twelve-colored phenomenon in the distance, but it did not disturb him. His crimson and golden blood energies moved silently, complementing and harmonizing with the hidden forces of YunKai Tao, even though he had no conscious understanding of the full scale of the intervention.
The valley trembled as the twelve-colored energies expanded outward, banishing the suffocating blackness slowly, layer by layer. The clouds above twisted and writhed, parting just enough to reveal faint glimpses of pale sunlight that had been hidden for what felt like an eternity. The oppressive chill, the deadly aura, the mist of death — all began to dissipate under the relentless brilliance of the twelve hues. Yet at the center, YunKai Tao remained acutely aware of the danger still lurking within his own blood: the black core, primal and untamed, that even this celestial phenomenon could not fully eradicate.
The twelve-colored energies hovered above, faint, blurred, almost imperceptible to the mortal eye. Still, they carried a power beyond human comprehension, an essence that pressed against the darkness in Tao's body, restraining it while simultaneously probing its boundaries. Their subtle brilliance was not for human witnessing; their purpose was far beyond perception, a divine intervention responding to an existence that had exceeded ordinary limits.
From a distance, the elders observed the unfolding scene, exchanging tense whispers.
Yan Zhi Lan's eyes narrowed, her voice low and deliberate:
"This is no ordinary cultivation anomaly. Even with Tao's unique blood, the magnitude… it's unlike anything I have seen."
Liang Shan, his gaze unwavering, added:
"The twelve-colored suppression… it is faint, but it is alive. Almost like heaven itself is intervening. But why would it respond so strongly? Tao has not yet reached Foundation level, yet the heavens act as though he threatens some cosmic balance."
Tong Chen, folding his arms, muttered:
"It is not merely a threat. The black core in him… it is not an ordinary existence. This is something far older, far more primal. If left unchecked, the consequences could surpass mortal comprehension."
Xiao Ling, whispering almost to herself:
"Then the twelve directions above… they are not just suppressing the darkness. They are trying to terminate it at its root. And yet, it centers on Tao. The heavens are responding to the imbalance — and simultaneously testing him."
High above the plateau, in a quiet sky far from prying eyes, Luo Tang's parents observed the scene with calm precision, their energies radiating blue and green auras. In hushed, urgent tones, they discussed the phenomena in a way no mortal could fully understand.
The woman's voice trembled slightly, tinged with concern:
"This darkness in Tao… it is not an ordinary existence. It is truly a supreme being entwined with him, a force we cannot fully control. We can supply essence to support the seal and reinforce the other three color energies, but this… this opening, this black core… I do not think he could break through to Foundation simply because of it."
Her husband, his deep blue aura steady and commanding, replied:
"Yes. The black darkness cannot be contained within a normal seal. It seeks to extend beyond Tao's body, escaping the constraints meant to suppress it. That is why it has begun to manifest outside, to leak into the surrounding space. This… is unacceptable to heaven."
The woman's green aura shimmered faintly, her eyes fixed on the swirling phenomena below.
"Then this… the twelve directions, the twelve-colored suppression above him… it is heaven's response. They will strike at the core, press against the darkness, and attempt to terminate it. But it is not targeting Tao out of malice — it is the only way to prevent catastrophe."
He nodded slowly. "Exactly. Tao is caught between two forces: the black darkness, a supreme entity entwined with him, and the intervention of the heavens. The twelve-colored energies are both restraint and trial. If he falters, if he cannot control his own blood, the darkness will either consume him or provoke heaven's direct judgment."
The woman exhaled softly, a mixture of fear and resolve.
"Then all we can do is support him… subtly, carefully. Our energies, though faint, stabilize the suppression, but the ultimate trial is his alone. He must master the darkness, or he will not survive — not just to reach Foundation, but to remain alive at all."
Meanwhile, YunKai Tao, at the epicenter of the swirling blackness, felt the subtle pressure of the twelve-colored phenomenon striking at his blood core. The fents within him — gold, red, white, green, and blue — flared instinctively in harmony with the celestial energies above, each acting as a barrier to prevent the black blood from absorbing or corrupting the external suppression. The black core pulsed violently, recoiling from the invisible strike, yet simultaneously testing the boundaries of the restraint, as though aware of the attempt to terminate it.
Luo Tang, still deep in meditation, remained untouched by the celestial spectacle. His consciousness was buried in the hidden recesses of his blood, sensing only the faint golden glimmers of latent inheritance stirring deep within him. Though the twelve-colored energies swirled and pressed around his friend below, they did not intrude upon his focus. He was a silent anchor, a hidden force whose own energy would one day converge with YunKai Tao's in ways even he could not yet comprehend.
The plateau and valley trembled under forces far beyond ordinary cultivation. Mist curled and swirled like restless spirits, leaves quivered, and even the stones seemed to hum. At the center, YunKai Tao opened his eyes. The twelve-colored lightning dragons of heaven descended in perfect coordination, each bolt arcing through the sky with blinding speed. They were not attacks meant to harm him directly—they were judgment and suppression, aimed solely at the black darkness coiling inside his blood.
As each thunderbolt struck, the five fents within Tao flared in immediate response: golden light pulsed from his core, red energy swirled through his veins, white streams circled his arms, green threads wrapped around his lungs, and blue currents danced across his limbs. The strikes and his fents worked together, forming a synchronized web of suppression.
The first bolt slammed into his chest—a golden lightning dragon, roaring like a celestial beast. His fents reacted, golden and red intertwining around the black blood, pressing and containing it. The black darkness recoiled, twisting violently as though resisting chains that sought to bind it.
Another bolt descended from the northwest, this one shimmering white. The fents in his shoulders flared, white and blue energies converging to reinforce the suppression. The black blood hissed and thinned in response, writhing violently as it struggled to maintain its form. Each strike did not destroy it but weakened its hold, compressing it like a coiled storm being forced into a cage.
One by one, bolts struck from twelve directions. Crimson, green, cyan, magenta, amber, violet—each thunderbolt struck with perfect timing, as if aware of the black blood's movements. Each time a bolt landed, one of Tao's fents would surge to meet it: golden reinforced the chest and heart, red and white pushed against the core's twisting tendrils, green and blue stabilized the body, holding the black blood in check while preventing it from absorbing or corrupting the heavenly power.
The black blood shrieked in unseen agony, coiling tighter and thinner, trying to escape the restraints. But the coordination between Tao's internal fents and the twelve heavenly strikes was flawless: every attack pressed in harmony, and every fents surge countered the black blood's resistance.
Tao's arms shook, his chest heaved, and his entire body glowed faintly as the combination of internal and external energy reached a fever pitch. The lightning dragons struck simultaneously from twelve directions, converging on the center of his chest, where the black blood pulsed strongest. The golden, red, white, green, and blue fents flared to maximum intensity, their light intertwining with the incoming thunder like five radiant chains wrapping around a shadowed beast.
The black blood thinned further, fragments flickering like dying shadows, but it refused to vanish entirely. It was a primal existence, ancient and unyielding, fighting against both heaven and Tao himself. Waves of pressure radiated outward, shaking the plateau violently. Rocks and dust were thrown into the air, the mist spiraled like a cyclone, and the valley itself seemed to bend under the strain.
Finally, after a crescendo of thunder and fents light, the black blood could hold no longer. With a violent pulse, Tao's consciousness collapsed inward under the strain of sustaining both his inner fents and resisting twelve simultaneous heavenly strikes. His body hit the ground with a dull thud, unconscious, fents dimming but still faintly glowing, as if the fight had left an imprint within him.
The plateau fell silent except for the faint crackle of dissipating energy. The twelve lightning dragons vanished, retreating to the sky, leaving behind a stillness that vibrated with the memory of the conflict. YunKai Tao's body lay in the center, fragile and exhausted, yet intact. His fents were weakened but had held—the black blood, though suppressed, still lingered, a reminder of the struggle that had just unfolded.
Tong Chen, sensing the extraordinary strain and danger from a distance, moved with unparalleled speed, scooping the boy into his arms. Even without external energy aiding him, YunKai Tao had endured an ordeal that had pushed both his blood and his fents to their absolute limit. The plateau seemed to exhale as the immediate threat passed, but the black blood remained a latent force, a reminder that his journey to mastery was far from over.