Lestes remained suspended within the dark void, his figure still and silent, yet no longer empty. The current Lestes was not completely devoid of emotion anymore, and if one looked closely, a faint light could be seen in his eyes, shining like a distant star in an endless night.
After recalling everything, Lestes began to understand the reasons behind many of his actions since awakening.
"…So that was the cause," he thought calmly.
There had been moments, even he could not fully explain at the time, impulses that arose without warning or reason, such as his sudden desire for Feng Luo Chen and when Feng Ling Xing Yue had asked Lestes to have an intimate relationship with Ning Waner, he agreed without thinking much.
At that time, when Feng Luo Chen had first cultivated the Yin-Yang Fusion Art within the cave, her strength had been sealed, leaving her vulnerable. When she had turned to Lestes, seeking help, his response had not been guided by conscious thought, but by something deeper, something embedded within him.
Now, he understood.
"It was not instinct… it was design."
Lestes' gaze stilled.
Amit.
Amit, his previous self, had foreseen this path long before Lestes awakened, and knowing that Lestes would be devoid of emotion, he had constructed a logical framework to compensate for that absence.
"In the absence of emotion… logic replaces instinct."
Lestes recalled how, in his previous state, he had relied entirely on reasoning to navigate situations that involved emotional complexity, and Amit had taken that a step further by embedding a directive deep within his consciousness.
After awakening, Lestes would deliberately seek out women and form bonds with them through the slave seal, always with their full consent, and together they would cultivate the Yin–Yang Fusion Art.
"It was never desire," Lestes murmured inwardly. "It was a mechanism."
The Yin–Yang Fusion Art had not been created by chance, nor was it an ordinary technique, because it was specially designed for Lestes after careful planning and refinement. During its creation, he sought guidance from several trusted, close individuals whose strength was extraordinary, and some of them had even surpassed Lestes at the height of his power.
Each of them possessed a profound understanding of cultivation, Dao, and the nature of existence itself, and their insights allowed the technique to be shaped with precision, eliminating flaws that would have otherwise proven fatal.
"It was built to be perfect… for me."
The Yin–Yang Fusion Art was not merely a dual cultivation method, but a carefully engineered technique tailored to Lestes' unique condition.
'I must succeed' Lestes made up his mind.
Amit had planned everything with precision.
For Lestes, this was not something to reject.
It was part of the path he had chosen.
On top of that, to further stimulate Lestes' development, Amit had hunted desire-driven creatures, among which the nine-headed serpent stood as the most powerful. It was not simply killed; instead, its soul was captured and sealed within Lestes' own soul through deliberate design.
The seal itself was not perfect.
That imperfection was intentional.
A controlled leakage was left within it.
"The flaw… was never a flaw," Lestes thought calmly.
Through that leakage, a faint yet persistent aura seeped into his soul, subtly influencing him over time.
Subtle…
Persistent.
Guiding… rather than forcing to indulge himself in carnal desire.
Lestes remained silent for a moment.
Reinforcement.
The influence of the serpent's soul did not exist merely to drive external behavior; its true purpose was deeper. It acted as a catalyst, awakening something that should have already existed within him.
His own primal nature.
Not something imposed—
But something inherent.
A desire lay buried and dormant in the deepest part of Lestes, and the external influence acted only as the catalyst that awakened it. Over time, those intimate act became nourishment, gradually strengthening that once-dormant desire until it no longer required any external stimulus to exist.
"It was never a coincidence," Lestes concluded.
Everything had been calculated. Nothing had been left to chance.
There was one more thing, Lestes understood it clearly.
No offspring unless it was ment.
A boundary that ensured his path remained controlled, without unforeseen variables that could disrupt the design Amit had laid out.
Lestes understood that Amit was making preparations for the future.
Lestes closed his eyes briefly.
Then
"I will follow through," he said calmly.
There was no hesitation in his voice.
Lestes slowly raised his hand, his expression calm and composed, as the mysterious fog around him began to respond to his will. Although his control was not absolute, the current Lestes could already influence the fog to a certain extent and under his command, it gathered and converged before him, compressing into a single point.
The surrounding space trembled.
The fog twisted upon itself, folding layer by layer until a dark and stable spatial passage formed, its edges flickering with traces of temporal distortion.
Without hesitation, he stepped forward.
The moment he crossed the threshold, the distorted space swallowed him whole, and his figure vanished into the shifting currents.
In the next instant—
He appeared elsewhere.
Lestes stood still as the surroundings came into focus, and a faint, almost imperceptible change passed through his eyes.
"…the Mysterious Poison Realm," he said calmly.
The air was filled with something ancient and Mysterious.
Lestes moved through the Mysterious Poison Realm without haste until he found a secluded cave near the base of a jagged mountain, and after briefly scanning his surroundings, he stepped inside.
The cave was quiet.
Still.
Filled with faint traces of lingering poison, yet nothing that posed a threat to him.
"This will suffice," Lestes said calmly.
He sat down cross-legged, his posture steady and composed, and slowly closed his eyes as his breathing became even and controlled, allowing his consciousness to sink inward.
He began to meditate.
—
While Lestes remained in meditation—
Far beyond perception, in a corner of a boundless dark void, hidden within layers of endless darkness, there stood an ancient temple.
The temple bore the marks of time, its walls worn and cracked as if they had endured countless ages, and at its entrance stood a dark hideous statue, twisted in form, as though it had once been alive before being frozen into eternal stillness.
An oppressive aura filled the surroundings.
Cold.
Decayed.
Deathly.
Dark and Myterious.
Ancient, stood in the void for countless years.
It seeped into the very fabric of space, making even the darkness feel heavy.
Deep within the temple—
A throne stood.
Dark.
Ancient.
On it sat a figure clad entirely in black armour, his entire body concealed, leaving no trace of his true appearance. The aura surrounding him was overwhelming, filled with decay and death, as though he was not merely alive, but something that existed between life and ruin.
Slowly—
He opened his eyes.
Cold.
Unfeeling.
"The protecting aura… has decreased," he murmured, his voice low and heavy.
A brief pause followed.
Then his gaze sharpened slightly.
"…Someone."
His voice echoed faintly through the empty hall.
At that moment, a figure entered from the shadows and immediately dropped to one knee.
"Yes, Commander."
The armoured figure remained still before asking in a calm yet oppressive tone, "How long before we breach the protective layer of the Martial Heavenly Continent?"
The kneeling servant lowered his head slightly.
"Commander, at minimum, one hundred and fifty years… at most, two hundred."
The temperature of the hall seemed to drop instantly.
"One hundred and fifty years?" the Commander repeated slowly, and although his tone did not rise, a suffocating pressure spread outward.
"…Too slow."
A faint tremor passed through the surroundings.
"Increase manpower and efficiency," he ordered coldly. "I want it breached within fifty years."
The servant's body stiffened.
"Fifty years?" he said cautiously, unable to hide the hesitation in his voice.
The Commander's gaze fell upon him.
"What?" he asked coldly. "You cannot do it?"
The servant felt his entire being tremble under that gaze, as a subtle decay began to spread across his body and soul.
"It is… impossible," he said with difficulty, before pausing briefly.
The Commander's eyes narrowed.
"But?" he asked.
The pressure intensified.
The servant forced himself to continue.
"…But if we cooperate with those inside, we can achieve it much faster and in a far more efficient manner."
Silence fell.
The Commander did not respond immediately.
Several breaths passed.
Then—
"Do whatever needs to be done," he said slowly, his voice carrying absolute authority. "But ensure it is done as quickly as possible."
The pressure receded slightly.
The servant lowered his head even further.
"Yes, Commander."
—
Far away, inside the quiet cave—
Lestes remained in meditation, unaware that beyond the boundaries of his world, forces had already begun to move.
After a few hours, Lestes slowly opened his eyes, his gaze calm and steady as the last traces of meditation faded from his mind. His aura had stabilized, his thoughts were clear, and every part of him felt aligned with the path he had chosen.
"…It's time," he said quietly.
He rose to his feet without haste, his expression composed as he looked toward the depths of the Mysterious Poison Realm.
Now—
He was ready to explore.