Chapter 3 – Zi-zone
"I can't fail… I must protect them."
Dean's voice was barely a whisper. His body trembled as he struggled to keep himself from collapsing completely. One knee had already buckled, forcing him into a half-kneeling position.
His right hand pressed tightly against the deep wound running from his shoulder to his chest, desperately trying to slow the flow of blood.
It was useless.
Plink… plink… plink….
The sound of his blood dripping onto the floor was loud in the sudden silence of the room. Within less than a minute, his clothes were completely soaked. Looking down, he saw a growing pool of red spreading beneath him. The blood continued to rush out of the wound without mercy.
Is this the end?
Am I going to die here… without protecting the people I was ordered to protect?
A bitter thought rose in his heart.
What a complete waste.
Pain pulsed through his body with every heartbeat. Still, he forced his head up and looked toward the six young women standing behind him. Their faces were pale with despair and helplessness.
The moment he saw that expression, an even sharper pain stabbed through his chest, one that had nothing to do with the physical wound.
"Argh…!"
A raw, bitter cry of agony escaped his throat. It was not only the pain of the injury.
It was the pain of feeling completely useless in front of those who needed him.
The sound struck the hearts of the young women harder than it did the two enemy cultivators.
The short man and his tall companion had taken many lives before. To them, a dying youth's scream was nothing new. To the girls, however, it was the sound of their last hope collapsing.
The short cultivator sneered.
"Finally decided to scream in pain, huh? Good. You can die now."
He raised his sword, ready to deliver the finishing blow.
But then he froze.
Something strange was happening.
The blood still pouring from Dean's wound had begun to bubble. Tiny bubbles formed and burst continuously, as if the blood itself was being heated from within.
Even the pool of blood on the floor started boiling, rising in temperature until faint wisps of steam appeared above it.
Dean stared at his own blood in shock.
"What… is happening to me?"
This was something he had never experienced before.
Is this what happens to people on the battlefield right before they take their last breath?
Is this an illusion… or is it real?
His thoughts raced wildly. Confusion mixed with the overwhelming pain.
Will this help me?
In the middle of that desperate hope, a sudden surge of heat exploded inside his body.
"Damn—!"
Dean's shout echoed through the room, startling everyone present. The impact was strongest on the short cultivator standing directly in front of him.
The man's eyes widened.
"What is happening to this young fellow…? Is this a blood awakening?"
He stared intently at Dean, his earlier arrogance replaced by caution.
"If it really is a blood awakening… then at what level?"
A cold sense of unease crawled up the short cultivator's spine. If this youth successfully completed a blood awakening here and now, dealing with him would become extremely difficult. In the worst case, he and his companion might not even leave this room alive.
Yet what happened next made him relax slightly.
Dean's body swayed. His eyes lost focus. A wave of dizziness washed over him, and his strength drained away like water through open fingers.
"In the end, you decided to take your own life," the short cultivator muttered mockingly, though a trace of relief hid beneath his words.
Dean's body finally went limp. All signs of life seemed to vanish from him in that instant. To everyone watching, he appeared completely dead.
The short cultivator let out a long breath and turned toward the young women.
"Ladies, your protector has already chosen his path. He knew he wasn't going to survive anyway."
Deep inside, however, he was still unsettled. He knew how dangerous a successful blood awakening could be. The fact that Dean had collapsed before completing it was, in his eyes, a stroke of luck.
Dean felt his consciousness fading, slipping further and further away. Yet some stubborn part of him refused to let go completely.
____________
Am I dead…?
Where am I?
When he opened his eyes again, he found himself surrounded by absolute darkness.
There was no up or down, no walls, no floor — only an endless black void. He could not even see his own hands in front of his face.
"Hey…"
A faint voice echoed through the darkness.
Dean's body tensed.
"Did I just hear something?"
The voice came again, clearer this time.
"Little lad, you heard me the first time, right?"
Dean's confusion deepened. In a place this dark, how could anyone be speaking to him?
"What is happening…?" he whispered.
"Are you dumb?" the voice asked, sounding slightly impatient. "Why aren't you answering?"
Dean hesitated for a moment, then decided there was no point in remaining silent. If he was already dead, what more could he fear?
"No… I'm just a little confused," he replied.
"Where am I?"
"Oh, so you can talk. That's good," the voice said with a hint of amusement. "You are in my zone. I am Zi. Therefore, you are currently inside the Zi-zone."
Dean frowned in the darkness.
"Zi-zone? Is this some kind of special afterlife world?"
A loud laugh echoed around him.
"Hahaha! Afterlife?" the voice repeated, clearly entertained. "You are not dead, little one. Don't get yourself all worked up."
"I drew your consciousness here," Zi continued, "because you are now able to access my zone."
"Access your zone…?" Dean repeated. "What does that even mean?"
"Don't worry too much about understanding everything right now," Zi replied calmly. "As time goes on, you will gain more knowledge about me. There is no hurry. From this moment forward… we are together."
The moment those words faded, the endless darkness suddenly vanished.
Light flooded the space.
Dean found himself standing on an ancient wooden platform. Strange carvings and symbols covered its surface, markings he had never seen before and could not understand.
The platform was roughly twenty feet wide and stood in the exact center of a vast white room that stretched about a hundred feet on each side.
The walls, floor, and ceiling were all pure white, giving the place a clean yet ancient atmosphere.
The wooden platform looked as if it had been cut from an incredibly old tree and carefully shaped into this mysterious structure.
Dean slowly turned in a full circle, searching for the source of the voice.
"Where is the person I was speaking to?" he asked quietly.
There was no one else in the room.
"Don't worry, little one," Zi's voice echoed once more, this time seeming to come from every direction at once.
"You will not be able to see me for now. The stronger you become, the more you will be able to achieve… and the more of me you will eventually perceive."
Dean remained silent for a moment. Ever since this strange conversation began, he had felt as if his thoughts were moving slower than usual, a frustrating and uncomfortable sensation.
"You just need to return and deal with those two who almost took your life," Zi said.
There was a slight strain in the voice this time, as if speaking required effort.
"Go back, little one… and survive."