Anything that could bring him closer to that goal, he would pursue without hesitation.
Sitting cross-legged on the floor, he held the cold metallic card in his hands, closed his eyes, and began.
---
Morca bit down on his finger, piercing the skin and allowing fresh, dark blood to drip onto the cold metallic card in his palm.
The moment the crimson droplets touched the surface, the card began to glow with an ominous red aura. Suddenly, it shot forward, piercing through the space between his brows and entering his mind. A rush of knowledge surged through him as the process of utilizing an ancient breathing technique unfolded in his consciousness.
Mysterious symbols and archaic words appeared in his vision, their meanings unraveling effortlessly in his mind.
The technique was called the Breathing Blood Codex, divided into three distinct parts: Codex One, Codex Two, and Codex Three.
Codex One guided cultivators through the initial stages of core development, spanning from the First Stage of Core Formation to the Third Stage, known as the Silver River. Codex Two detailed the refinement from the Fourth Stage, the Golden Sea, and beyond...
Morca's eyes widened in astonishment. "This is a divine technique! Without even needing an explanation, I can comprehend its depths. As expected of my brother..." He paused, his mind whirling with excitement. "Not only is it incredibly powerful, but it also aligns perfectly with my bloodline... Battle Crimson Moon. With this, I won't have to waste time switching techniques halfway through cultivation to find one that suits me. I'll have to thank him properly."
A sense of gratitude warmed his heart. He took a deep breath to calm himself, his excitement giving way to determination. "All that remains is to sense the mana in the air and direct it to temper my blood, repeating the process nine times until I complete three full rounds. Only then will I channel the refined energy into my core to purify and stabilize my cultivation. The process will be painful, but the results will be worth it. According to the codex, this technique is even more effective in battle..."
With these thoughts, Morca closed his eyes and entered a deep meditative state.
This was not his first time cultivating, so he quickly attuned himself to the ambient mana. Wisps of azure energy gathered around him, first appearing as thin strands before multiplying rapidly.
The energy surged toward his left chest, converging at his heart. As soon as the mana intertwined with his blood, a fierce conflict erupted within him. The two forces clashed, each attempting to suppress the other.
A bead of sweat formed on Morca's forehead as the struggle intensified. He gritted his teeth, enduring the searing pain while the surrounding mana continued to pour into his body, reinforcing the fusion process.
After what felt like an eternity, the first fusion string of energy was successfully formed. He exhaled sharply, his breath uneven.
The process continued for another hour before the second string of energy took shape. By the third, his body had adapted, and he could now form three in a single hour.
After two more grueling hours, he had completed the first round of nine energy strands.
Without anyone disturbing him, he pushed forward. The cycle repeated until, at precisely 4:00 AM, he had successfully completed the third and final round.
With twenty-nine strands of energy coursing through his meridians, Morca directed them toward his core. As the energy rushed inward, his core trembled violently. The energy swirled within, attempting to merge into a single, cohesive unit. But Morca held it back.
He knew that allowing the energy to fully integrate would propel him into the next stage of cultivation, a breakthrough he could not afford yet. Not until he returned to his Unique Domain, the gateway linking him to the Oblivion Realm.
Suppressing the urge to advance, Morca slowly opened his eyes. It felt like only moments had passed, but when he checked the time, his eyes widened in shock. It was already morning... 4:46 AM.
Though he had been a cultivator in his past life, the path of cultivation on Planet Eden was different, more intricate. He refused to compare it to his previous experiences.
After a quick calculation, he realized he had been cultivating for a full twelve hours. And today... today was Monday, the Academy Trial Day.
He hadn't even rested yet. Though exhaustion did not weigh on him, he understood the importance of recuperation.
"In about one hour and forty-four minutes, we will depart for the academy trial ground in Section Two. The journey will take roughly an hour. Maybe I can catch a nap on the ship while we travel." Resolving to refresh himself, Morca stood and walked toward the bathroom.
The warm water washed away the tension from his body, and soon, he stood before a full-length mirror.
His reflection stared back... a tall figure, approximately 1.7 meters, with a physique honed for battle. Thick, sharp black eyebrows framed mismatched eyes, one a deep, swirling abyss of ink-black darkness and the other a piercing crimson. His tiny pink lips and sharp chin added an air of elegance to his striking features. He took a closer look at himself and frowned.
"Huh? Why do I look almost identical to when I was sixteen in my past life... except for these mismatched eyes?" He murmured.
A strange thought crossed his mind. Had I been reincarnated instead of transmigrated?
His brows furrowed. "Things are becoming more complicated... I'll have to ask the clone when I return to my Unique Domain."
Pushing these thoughts aside, he focused on the more pressing issue, his left eye. He slowly turned his right eye to gaze upon it. The swirling black void seemed to pulse with an eerie energy, devouring the light around it. This time, he steeled himself, refusing to look away.
"How could my own eye harm me? That would be amusing... wouldn't it?"
As he focused deeper, a sensation stirred within the abyss. Something lurked inside, something he couldn't quite grasp.
A deep unease settled in his gut. He tried to endure it, but the longer he stared, the more he felt his consciousness being drawn into the endless darkness.
He quickly shut his right eye, his breath coming in sharp gasps. A thin trickle of blood ran down from the corner of his right eye.
"That was... paralyzing. It felt as though I was being swallowed whole." He wiped the blood away with the back of his hand.
Then, a realization struck him.
During his last battle in the Dark Avengers Arena, he had faced a Vampiro Royal Monster. It had remained completely motionless even as he approached, as though frozen in place.
"Could it be... it wasn't fear that held it back? It was my left eye! The monster was trapped in its gaze!"
A shiver ran down his spine. If this is what it does to my enemies... what would it do to others if I lost control?
His decision was made. "I'll cover it with an eyepatch until I find a way to control it."
With that thought, he retrieved the black eyepatch and secured it over his left eye. As he adjusted the strap, another important detail surfaced in his mind...