"When all Dao is stripped away, when every belief collapses—What remains… is the primal self of a living being:The will to live… or the descent into ash."
The moment Lâm Mạc stepped beyond the Forbidden Veins of Bloodline, the world before him shattered like an inverted veil.
Reality twisted. Heaven and earth turned upside down.He plummeted into another realm—dark, but not empty.
Instead, it was filled with sound:Weeping. Chanting.Tens of thousands of voices echoing in agony—Like the memory of a massacre that refused to be forgotten.
"You have crossed four tiers of the Blood Dao.""Now tell me—can you still remain yourself in a world without gods?"
BOOM!
A searing mark branded itself upon his brow—The sigil of the Forsaken Sect, an ancient cult erased from history because—
"We need no gods. We need no Dao.""What we seek… is the final truth, when all else has been stripped away."
The Trial began.
Lâm Mạc found himself standing amidst ruins—blood soaked the cracked earth, corpses stacked like mountains—yet no screams echoed.
Only flashes of memory.People who had lived, fought, screamed, died…and then repeated the cycle again—endlessly.
A voice resounded, neither male nor female:
"Dao erased. Arts destroyed. Bloodlines invalid.""Now show us—what remains of you?"
Lâm Mạc immediately felt the change:
Spiritual Energy — gone.Hollow Blood — sealed.Even the parasitic Dao-form — severed from his consciousness.
Now, all that remained was a body.A thought.And a fist.
From a nearby corpse, a twisted figure rose—a replica of Lâm Mạc, yet missing its eyes… and heart.
It was the "Selfless Shadow Replica"—a projection conjured by the trial formation of the Forsaken Sect,its sole purpose:To erase the true self by using his own body.
"You want to survive?""Then fight—not for ideals, not for Dao, not for anyone.""Fight for the most primal instinct of all—I am me."
The battle began.
No techniques.No cultivation.No divine sense.Only fists colliding against fists.
Each strike from the Shadow Replica carried the weight of Lâm Mạc's own doubts—His moments of hesitation.His memories of fear.His buried thoughts of giving up.
Ribs shattered.Half his face collapsed.His right eye blurred with blood.
But he did not fall.
"I am not forged by some sacred path.""I am built from all the things that once tried to destroy me.""Every breath I took while struggling to survive—that is what made me who I am."
With a roar, he slammed one final punch into the Replica's skull—Not powered by Spiritual Energy,but infused with pure will.
The Selfless Shadow disintegrated.The trial collapsed.The godless space crumbled into void.
Lâm Mạc fell to his knees, drenched in blood—but his gaze no longer wavered.
Deep within his heart, one truth was etched:
"Without gods—I still endure.""Without Dao—I still exist.""Because what made me… is blood, and bone, and pain—and a will that refuses to yield."
"I do not wait for blessings.""I do not beg for the right to live.""If I must exist in a world where nothing remains—Then I shall become the first something in that world."