Opening his eyes and closing them became indistinguishable acts. He attempted to release his aura, but it dispersed before fully emerging.
His eyebrows furrowed in annoyance. In all his life, he had never encountered anything like this.
At first, he believed he had fallen into some sort of illusion. Yet he soon dismissed that notion.
After all, is there anyone capable of trapping Tian Luo in an illusion without his awareness or perception whatsoever?
Tian Luo did not rule out the possibility of being deceived by an illusion; he merely considered it possible that someone had ensnared him.
He tried once more to open his eyes. However, only darkness greeted him. His ears captured no sound, not even the faintest whisper. He experimented by moving his body—waving his hand, shifting his feet—but to no avail.
It was as if he were imprisoned in a box, unable to advance even a single step. He felt as though he was merely shifting in place without any true progress.
Strangely enough, he wasn't breathing. Yet his body remained unaffected, as if drawing air from an external source without his conscious awareness.
"This place is peculiar," he thought. "It wouldn't be wise to rush into anything. I shall study it slowly."
Tian Luo was not one to give up easily; his stubborn nature ran deep. Even if he were in the midst of a war facing a stronger foe, he would not surrender until the crimson hue was completely purged from his veins.
At the same time, however, he exercised caution.
Would an experienced general ever lose his guard or act rashly so as to walk right into his own grave?
"If five senses fail me, I'll employ a sixth!"
A man like Tian Luo, if necessary, would even discover a seventh sense. He would do whatever it took to survive.
Slowly, he released extremely fine threads of energy. At one meter, they did not vanish but merely weakened; at two meters, they became little more than sparks. After a few centimeters, they withered and then disappeared.
"This space is fascinating," he thought, raising his eyebrows in evident admiration. "I'm beginning to grasp its workings."
"It appears that invisible constraints press upon everything here. Moreover, I assume I'm the only one present."
While Tian Luo deduced and analyzed, a significant amount of blood, undetected by him, seeped into his brain. An overwhelming dizziness struck him. He raised his hand and placed it on his head in an attempt to alleviate the vertigo.
It felt as though a poison had pierced his brain, directly invading his mind!
"What… what is this sensation…?" Tian Luo wondered initially, but soon he found himself completely immersed in it. "It is… so warm… so very warm…"
"A sensation…"
As the poison spread within him and took root in his mind, it transformed into an obsession—an intense feeling reminiscent of a child cradled in its mother's arms. It epitomized the pinnacle of safety and love.
Simply put, facing or suppressing such an experience was no easy task—especially after having suppressed his emotions for decades. Perhaps only Ji Hai could have accomplished this.
---
"Eh? Were you asleep? No, wait a moment—what was I saying?"
After some time, as he regained consciousness, he sensed that something vital was missing—something he had forgotten. Yet, it no longer mattered.
"Who… am I?"
He forgot his features, his past, even his name. His mind was like a desert where all maps had been erased.
He felt as though space itself was his body while his soul remained intangible.
Now, he sensed everything happening within the space as if he were observing it with absolute clarity.
The space was no longer shrouded in mystery. In fact, does it even warrant the name "space" anymore?
He could not see it yet, as if this space were something unworthy of visual perception.
However, the lack of visible images was not a problem, because he could feel what existed in this space. Simply put, exceedingly complex processes were unfolding there—intricate networks that communicated with one another in real time.
It was akin to instantaneous motion—only purer, faster, and even more enchanting.
To be specific, these forms resembled circles though they were irregular. Sometimes they were star-like; at other moments, bloated. And many other shapes were present.
In addition to all the irregular formations, there were also several regularly circular ones. They were not solely circular either; they were neither cubic nor pyramidal—but something like a mix of both.
This was not a mere oddity; it was the means by which these forms communicated. Each shape emanated a delicate body resembling a thread—if not finer.
And from each filamentous body sprouted even finer tails. More precisely, there were at least two, and at most six, tails.
Each tail's end connected indirectly to the tails of another shape. During this indirect connection, from every tail's end emerged a very short elongating thread that secured roughly half the distance between them.
Yet no two of these threads were ever directly connected; a minuscule gap always remained, measured with precision.
Then, they communicated with one another through signals transmitted by each extending thread across that tiny empty space.
When one shape communicated with another, it flashed a burst of light—lasting less than a moment.
It then transferred to the body of that shape, concluding its journey at the tails, which in turn relayed the signal to another form.
This intricate and wondrous configuration captivated Tian Luo for an indeterminate period. He observed, in awe, the constant communication among these forms.
The light emitted by these shapes was irresistibly attractive—one hundred times more beautiful than his contemplation of the sky.
Even though he could not see it, the very sensation of its emanation filled him with warmth… and even more.
Tian Luo did not cease his contemplation until he sensed a strange body. He quickly turned his head, as if he had just encountered calamity.
Though he could not see it, he felt it—a body emitting a crimson aura, one that appeared both toxic and mysterious.
It was not the strange body per se that alerted Tian Luo, but rather its aura tampering with the organization and communication of the forms.
His grip tightened suddenly; he no longer felt the skin on his hand, yet undoubtedly he sensed the increasing grinding of his teeth.
His brows furrowed, unable to conceal the signs of anger any longer.
Suddenly, all the forms began communicating far more rapidly than before—almost as though they were alive, watching each of Tian Luo's moves with painstaking attention.
It was as if these forms were controlling him. In other words, Tian Luo had become an embodiment of their rage—and he was destined to claim their rights and repel the danger.
Without Tian Luo's awareness, threads from the forms extended outward.
They resembled tree roots or branches, albeit far more delicate. These threads seized Tian Luo's legs, his arms, even his head.
Tian Luo could no longer advance in that space, at least not by himself. Yet, through the controlling influence of these forms, he was able to proceed and approach the strange body.
Gradually, the strange body became clearer to Tian Luo. At first, he felt it as merely an object that emanated an aura.
But now it was evident that it resembled an ancient wedge—exuding an intensely malevolent aura.
When he approached even closer, precisely in front of the ancient wedge, he sensed something entirely different.
Did Tian Luo tremble? No—it was the threads from the forms that trembled violently. Sensing that danger had finally peaked, they left Tian Luo to confront it alone.
A strange body? An ancient wedge? These were empty labels. Now, he saw it clearly.
It lacked a tangible form; rather, it was a mass of fragmented, congealed aura.
But what terrified Tian Luo most was that this aura had taken on the shape of a horn—a diabolical horn, unparalleled in appearance.
Had that been all, Tian Luo would not have broken into a sweat. His own power was comparable to that of a high-level pure demonic aura.
What set him apart was that his aura did not merely reach the level of high pure demonic energy—or even higher. No, his aura was of a degree beyond measurement when compared to Tian Luo!
Even more disconcerting was the fact that his aura was intermingled with it—a Ji Hai aura! That combined aura, as it surged like a dragon's maw, sought to sever Tian Luo. He caught himself at the final moment.
"I am… Tian Luo, Tian… Luo!" His brows rose, his teeth gritted as he shouted, "Indeed! I am Tian Luo—the greatest general of the Ji Empire!"
His voice trembled, and suddenly his resolve hardened.
"Ji Hai! I did not expect you would descend to such depths—to implant a demonic aura within my mind! This degree of control… is it your attempt to build your puppet army?!"
"No wonder Fang Bai sought rebellion. You are no longer human! You are utterly unworthy of inheriting the throne! You… you have nurtured a demonic heart!"
When his memories returned and he finally recalled who he truly was, it seemed he was well aware of his situation and how he had come to be here. In short, it was as though he had known everything all along!
"Damn it! When and how did I lose my guard? When did I allow him to implant this into my mind?"
At that moment, the demonic aura attacked savagely. It surged forward, transforming into a sword aimed at piercing Tian Luo's heart.
As his memories returned, he did not lose his ability to sense what was happening. On the contrary, it intensified. Now, he could only use his own aura in a contained, subdued manner—to bolster himself.
For a moment, he leaped, narrowly evading the assault. Then, while airborne, he directed his aura to his foot, forming a foundation to exert pressure. In another instance, he entered the demonic aura.
Inside it, crimson vortices and chaos spread everywhere—as if he had stepped into an entirely different realm from the prior space. Wherever Tian Luo turned, he felt disorder and discord.
In some places, the space shattered, then reformed—but now from the demonic aura. Upon sensing this process, his teeth nearly clenched in despair.
He screamed, "O wretched demon Ji Hai! Is this how you devour our minds?! Even slowly, without our knowledge, have you turned us into your slaves?! You shall not prevail… I swear you shall not!"
He lowered his hand, then began spreading his own aura within the horn. This time, it did not vanish but expanded naturally.
Fortunately, it appeared that the demonic aura was not fully refined; rather, it had been injected hastily into his mind and left incomplete.
Thus, the demonic aura was unable to attack or harm Tian Luo while he remained within it—allowing him to subdue it.
When Tian Luo's aura reached a certain threshold, he halted its expansion. Then, he gathered it and shaped it into a wedge. From the aura he had previously extended, he reclaimed a portion of it.
It was saturated with demonic energy, even beginning to corrode. A smile crept across Tian Luo's face as he swiftly injected that aura into the wedge.
The two auras—the wedge and the demonic aura—twisted together, engaged in an ongoing struggle. Of course, with Tian Luo's support, his aura swiftly subdued the demonic one.
"It is over, Ji Hai," Tian Luo declared.
Quickly, he extricated himself from the demonic aura. It seemed as if the demonic force was rising in anger and hatred; as soon as Tian Luo emerged, it assailed him with countless swords.
Yet, alas, this was all futile. The wedge Tian Luo wielded was already absorbing and repelling every attack of the demonic aura, which appeared endless.
In a final attempt, there emerged a sound akin to a low roar—or a piercing scream. Then the demonic aura surged forth like a ravenous beast toward Tian Luo.
This time, the wedge could not absorb the energy—too vast and widely dispersed.
For Tian Luo, consciousness returned only with the crow's caw. He shuddered and abruptly opened his eyes, as if struck by lightning. He tried to move his head, but found he could not.
"That smell of iron…? No, it's the scent of blood…"
For a long time, Tian Luo had known the odor emanating from thousands of dead bodies—a scent of corroded iron.
He felt himself leaning against something solid—a tree. Lowering his gaze, he found his hand nearly severed, his foot drenched in blood with innumerable wounds.
His vision blurred, and he gradually heard his heavy breathing with increasing clarity. Looking around, he spotted Fang Bai.
Fang Bai was young—at most seventeen years old—but his drawn features had not changed much, apart from looking smaller this time.
His condition was not very different either; he too was stained with his own blood. He could barely see, for the blood from his head had already drenched his face.
"Eh… am I… going to die… today? Eh…"
He gazed at the silent sky. "Eh… it seems that… the heavens… have resolved to kill me… eh."
Slowly, his eyes closed. He had accepted his fate. Had it not been for his imagination, he would have already been lost—because distant voices, now nearer… were audible!
They were Fang Bai's voices, calling out: "Tian Luo, wake up! Tian Luo!"
"Do not die; your time has not yet come! Tian Luo! Please, wake up!"
"Just… one single move… Tian Luo, please!"
A tear fell.
Suddenly, his eyes opened again—and this time, he understood what was happening.
"Haha, Fang Bai. It seems I owe you another debt for saving my life."
This time, he straightened up. He moved his nearly severed hand, which miraculously appeared fully intact. It became evident that it had all been an illusion.
"Ji Hai, are these your final attempts? An illusion so real? Do you want me to die just so you can seize control? Pathetic. It will never succeed as long as Fang Bai is with me!"
He clenched his fist firmly, and suddenly the surroundings began to shatter. The fabric of the space distorted, then, in an instant, reverted to its previous state.
He looked at the demonic aura—it had calmed. There was nothing left for it to do.
"Have you accepted your fate? Did you learn this from me? Is this not the true nature of demons? Well, it doesn't matter anymore—it's time to seal you!"
He opened his hand, allowing the wedge to slowly ascend. It then expanded in size until it surpassed the demonic aura that had formed the diabolic horn.
In less than a second, it transformed into a flash of light before forcefully penetrating the demonic aura. This time, the network of forms did not prevent the spread of Tian Luo's energy.
There was resistance, but ultimately the demonic energy let out a terrifying scream before being pierced by the wedge.