Silence...
That kind of quiet that doesn't bring peace, but a heavy weight that buries the breath.
The air in the arena was thick and gray, and the sky cracked like glass bleeding light.
Amid the ruins, on land that was nothing but ash and the remnants of scattered energy, Ashen stood.
The same arena that moments ago was a battlefield of madness — now empty.
Only he remained, his torn body barely reassembled.
His breaths were cold, his gaze hollow, and everything around him screamed that this place was not meant for humans.
He stood with difficulty, each step echoing with a metallic sound on the dead ground.
He lifted his head toward the sky… and saw the Eye.
A massive, indescribable eye —
No color, no clear shape, yet it filled the entire horizon.
Just looking at it made his blood boil and his body tremble, as if he was being remade from the inside out.
---
"Ashen…"
The voice rang in his mind — not from outside, not from within, but from everywhere at once.
"You have done the impossible."
The tone was emotionless, but carried the weight of ages.
"You have surpassed what no one before you could. You endured the trials and stood firm before eternal brutality."
Ashen raised his head higher, his voice hoarse but steady:
"Who am I? Why was I here?
Why did I have to stay in this hell for a thousand years?"
The Eye fell silent.
Even the ash in the air seemed to freeze in respect for that silence.
Then came the answer, slowly:
"Your name… is Ashen."
The name echoed through the gray void like a memory long forgotten.
"The rest… you must discover on your own."
Ashen lowered his head. The name felt familiar and strange at once — like a word from a language he had forgotten long ago.
---
The ground shook.
Beams of bloody light rose from the earth, spiraling slowly around him.
The massive eye began to fade, but its voice still thundered in his mind.
"You have completed the Great Cycle of the Blood Trial.
According to the Heavenly Dao, three great rewards are granted."
"Your first reward is what you sought from the beginning of this trial —
the Savage Intent."
"You have mastered the first level of Savage Intent… and reached the Absolute rank."
"This intent is your will, the eternal expression of your existence."
Ashen's body trembled violently.
A huge will burst out of him like a volcano of blood and power, sweeping across the ruined arena and lifting the debris into the air as if worshiping his presence.
He felt something new within — not just strength, but will.
A primal, beastly will — pure, ruthless, limitless.
"Absolute rank…"
He whispered softly, as if the words themselves were hard to comprehend.
In the legends of the ancients, that rank marked the boundary between man and the first primal beast.
---
"The second reward: the physical structure of the Savage Intent —
The Absolute Beast."
From the sky, a glowing black beam descended.
It pierced through him from head to toe, filling him with a burning heat that melted his bones.
He screamed — not in pain, but in transformation. His body was being remade.
His blood boiled. His muscles tightened and expanded.
Every cell rewrote itself under a new law.
"You have been granted the body structure of the Savage Intent — the Absolute Beast."
"A form that embodies instinct and power, evolving as your understanding of savagery deepens."
"A body with many mysterious and powerful abilities."
Inside, he felt something breathing — as if his body itself had gained life, a restless being made of raw energy.
He extended his hand forward. The air tore apart.
A simple squeeze of his fist cracked the ground for tens of meters.
Absolute power… but with an unknown cost.
---
The Eye dimmed, and its voice became softer, like a whisper.
"In the previous trials, when you merged the Heavenly Records of Pure Spirit with your bloodline, you created something that never existed before."
"You gave birth to a spiritual embryo — one that embodies both your soul and bloodline… and most importantly, your savagery."
"You can consider it a unique spiritual structure."
The sea of his consciousness trembled.
He felt something moving deep within — a pulsing light in the core of his being.
It was the spiritual embryo — the same entity that spoke to him at the end of the trial.
"You survived because of your union.
Therefore… you are granted a technique to nurture this embryo."
A red mark appeared in his mind, carved directly onto his soul.
Words of an ancient, unknown language, yet he understood them instinctively.
He felt that the technique was not just a method — it was a blood oath.
"Feed it your intent, grow it through battles…
When it matures, it will be more than your spirit — it will be your manifested will."
---
"And within your consciousness… you will find something else."
Inside him, a dark card appeared, floating on a sea of blood.
When he tried to touch it, it vanished.
But its presence remained engraved in him, as if hiding a secret waiting to be revealed.
"This card holds secrets that may change your fate.
You will know its worth when the time comes."
---
"And finally… the survival reward.
Considering your condition, it seems you'll need it soon."
A complex symbol of light appeared above his palm, glowing like a blood-red tattoo.
"Spatial Teleportation Spell — one-time use.
If you face mortal danger, it will activate automatically and take you to the safest place."
He looked up at the sky.
"And where will that be?"
"To where you must begin anew."
The arena began to tremble again.
The ashes turned into celestial symbols swirling around him.
The giant eye faded slowly, but its final words echoed in his mind:
"You succeeded, Ashen, but you paid the price.
Remember… those who survive the fire never remain the same — they become part of it."
Then the Eye vanished completely.
---
Return to the Real World
Everything fell silent.
Then the ground beneath him opened.
A crushing force pulled him down, not as a fall, but as if his very being was being torn through layers of time and space.
A vortex of bloody light swallowed him.
In the last moment, he heard his own distant voice:
"Ashen… live."
Then — darkness.
---
When he opened his eyes again,
he was lying on a dark, cold stone that smelled of ancient blood.
He found himself on a massive altar surrounded by pillars carved with incomprehensible symbols.
Dim flames from dying candles flickered at the edges, revealing a horrifying sight:
Thousands of corpses stabbed through their hearts, arranged perfectly in a circle around him.
Their faces were turned toward him, as if they had died while looking at him.
He stepped back. The ground beneath his feet was sticky — the blood was still fresh.
He raised his head toward the ceiling and saw celestial marks similar to those from the trial.
"Where… am I?"
No answer.
Only the echo of his own voice.
Then he felt it — emptiness inside.
He remembered nothing.
Not his name — though he had heard it.
Not his clan, not his past, not his father.
Only emptiness.
But something else burned deep within, deeper than memory.
Fire.
Fire without reason.
A rage without source.
An overwhelming desire for revenge.
He didn't know against whom.
He didn't know why.
But it was there — the only truth that felt alive.
He lifted his head toward the dark ceiling, his gaze stripped of any human trace.
A faint red glimmer flashed in his eyes — a beast slowly awakening within.
"Revenge…"
He whispered the word without fully understanding it,
but his voice trembled with something strange — a mix of destiny and threat.
Then he stepped forward, out of the circle of death.
Every corpse he passed slowly bowed, as if something inside them acknowledged his return.
From that moment, he was no longer just a survivor of the trial.
He had become something new —
A being forged by fire, shaped by the Dao, and driven by vengeance without memory.
Thus, the Absolute was born.
"When the past is erased, only the first instinct remains… survival, and revenge."