Tao slowly regained consciousness, his mind heavy as if he had been drifting through an endless void.
As his senses returned, he realized he was no longer in the same dark space. A dim, ethereal glow surrounded him, casting shifting shadows on the ground. He pushed himself up, feeling an unfamiliar yet profound energy coursing through his body.
That sense of loneliness and entropy was gone. But the taste of it lingered within his mind.
"That was....it was something." He mumbled, his eyes still closed as he regained himself. Then he thought, "Was that me, truly? If so, is that what I will become?"
Groaning, he opened his eyes. When he looked forward, he was a bit taken aback.
"The hell?"
Before him, a scroll hovered in midair, wrapped in a golden aura. It radiated an ancient presence, exuding an air of boundless knowledge. Drawn by an unseen force, Tao reached out and grasped the scroll.
The moment his fingers brushed against it, a surge of energy pulsed through him, and the scroll unfurled on its own.
As his eyes scanned the intricate, flowing script, the deep voice of his father, Sage Dai Long, resonated within his mind, carrying a weight of wisdom and authority.
Tao absorbed every word as his father's voice echoed the teachings:
"Tao, my son, the path before you is long and arduous. To ascend the heavens, one must first understand the foundation upon which all cultivators stand."
" These are the Mortal Steps of Cultivation, the stages that define one's growth before transcending mortality. Listen well, for this knowledge will shape your future."
Body Forging Stage, Qi Sea Realm, Foundation Establishment Realm, Revolving Dragon Core Realm, Nascent Dragon Soul Realm, Primordial Spirit Realm, Void Breaching Realm, Dao Domain Realm, Saint Realm.
All nine were the mortal stages of cultivation in the wide True Chaos Beast Universe.
After reading this over and over again. Tao tossed the scroll onto his desk nearby and slumped back down into bed. All of that was….well, it was a lot to remember.
And he will, but for right now, he wanted to rest some more.
...
A few hours later, Tao was up, dressed in his black robe and eating breakfast. Reading a book about the many customs and things that make the Dragon Realm work.
It was a truly interesting book. He hadn't had much time to read lately, thanks to getting his own Dao, but he was making up for it right now before he set out to finally cultivate.
After finishing his breakfast, Tao made his way to the training courtyard, his mind already focused on the task ahead. He breathed in deeply, feeling the crisp air fill his lungs, then exhaled, steadying himself.
He remembers his father's words about cultivating a Dao and how dragons use it as the foundation of their power.
With this in mind, Tao sat cross-legged in the center of the courtyard. He closed his eyes, silencing his thoughts, and let himself sink into that familiar sensation—the endless, all-consuming void within his soul.
As soon as he did, he felt it. He felt its presence within him; it was a force unlike any other he'd ever felt in his short life so far.
The Dao of End.
It did not come gently, nor did it coax him into submission. It rushed towards him like a tidal wave, swallowing him whole. It was cold, vast, and absolute.
His body trembled as it flooded into him, surging through his meridians, his bones, his flesh, and his very soul. Tao gritted his teeth, sweat forming on his brow as his body struggled to contain the overwhelming force pouring into him.
The changes begin immediately.
A deep, unnatural cold spread from his fingertips, moving up his arms. His once-pale hands grow even paler, almost like candle wax. The paleness did not stop at just his hands, but it covered his entire body.
The tips of his fingers turned pitch black as if they had been dipped in an abyss. His veins, which had faint traces of golden luminescence from his body cultivation, began to shift, darkening, twisting, until they resembled cracks in reality itself, spreading across his forearms and chest.
His nails, originally sharp due to his dragon lineage, take on an obsidian sheen, appearing like razor-sharp blades.
Within his body, the changes are even more profound.
His white bones, once gilded with a divine golden hue from the Heavenly Titan Physique, blackened completely. The dark color sank deep into his marrow. His blood, thick with vitality, took on a darker shade, no longer just a rich crimson but something deeper, heavier, as if carrying the weight of entropy itself.
Then, his forehead burned—the red dot that had always marked him suddenly morphed into a perfect horizontal line. His forehead began to release a black gas as the red mark became entirely black.
It looked as if it had been carved into Tao's head by a hand. Like it was carved into his very existence by some unseen force.
The line was like a void. It stood out amongst his skin like a tattoo, though it was not ink.
But the End.
The sight was eerie—a void within a void, a mark of something unnatural, something beyond mortal comprehension.
Beneath his eyes, the skin darkened into an unnatural shadow, like streaks of abyssal energy had permanently settled under his gaze. His once-sharp features became sharper still but now carried an otherworldly aura—his expression was calm, yet terrifyingly still, like an ancient force that had never known change.
He truly looked horrifying.
Then, his realm advanced.
The Qi within his body erupted like a violent storm. His meridians stretched, accommodating more energy than ever before. His dantian expanded, reshaping itself to fit the immense influx of power.
He felt himself stepping past the initial stages of cultivation, his body refining itself on a level few could ever experience.
Qi Sea Realm!
His foundation, which had already reached the extreme, allowed his cultivation to soar unchecked. The energy of the Dao of End did not merely strengthen his Qi—it transformed it.
His cultivation rushed forward at an alarming pace, reaching the mid-stage of the Qi Sea Realm before stabilizing.
Then, everything went quiet. His body returned to normal except for the new line on his forehead and his black fingertips.
Tao opened his eyes, and a deep, abyssal glow flickered in his pupils, his dragon-slit irises sharper than ever. His fingers twitched as he clenched and unclenched his hands, adjusting to the changes done to his body.
He exhaled a breath, and with it, a faint black mist seeped from his lips—a byproduct of the overwhelming Dao energy still settling within him.
He had broken through.
Tao was finally a true cultivator.