The memory collapsed.
The countless scenes dissolved into innumerable fragments of light.
One by one, they drifted away until nothing remained.
The endless white returned once more.
Silence.
Only two figures remained.
The black-robed cultivator staggered backward, his footing unsteady.
His breathing had become ragged.
Cold sweat streamed down his forehead.
His eyes never left the tiny white-scaled lizard hovering silently before him.
*He...*
*He saw everything...*
Every memory.
Every secret.
Every scheme he had concealed over decades of careful planning.
Nothing had escaped those golden eyes.
His thoughts spiraled into panic.
*What...*
*What exactly is this creature...?*
Lizarius ignored him.
His golden eyes remained calm and unhurried.
Within his mind, every memory he had witnessed was already being organized and analyzed.
*So...*
*He truly possesses a genuine spiritual root.*
There was no surprise.
Only confirmation.
*The cultivation art itself is incomplete.*
*Or rather...*
*It was never meant to cultivate the practitioner.*
The memories had answered every question.
The so-called forbidden technique...
Was never a cultivation method.
It was a refining method.
A living furnace.
The blood essence...
The life force...
The spiritual energy stolen from countless victims...
Were continuously condensed within the practitioner's body.
Not to strengthen them.
But to mature them.
Like nurturing a precious medicine.
Or...
A pill.
Lizarius' gaze remained unchanged.
*Ling Hua...*
*Was merely one of the furnaces.*
The black-robed cultivator had never intended for his disciple to reach the Foundation Establishment Realm.
The moment Ling Hua reached the Ninth Stage of Spirit Refining...
Everything would have changed.
Instead of condensing a foundation—
His entire body...
His blood...
His life force...
His stolen essence...
Would all be refined together.
The result—
A **Blood Nourishing Pill.**
A living pill.
One that had cultivated itself for years.
A medicinal treasure capable of dramatically increasing one's cultivation...
Without leaving behind impurities.
Without hidden side effects.
Without any lasting drawbacks.
Lizarius silently continued his analysis.
*An ingenious technique.*
*Cruel.*
*Wasteful.*
*Yet undeniably ingenious.*
The memories continued arranging themselves within his consciousness.
The black-robed cultivator had already prepared everything.
Every step.
Every resource.
Every sacrifice.
He had calculated the timing with meticulous precision.
Another year.
Perhaps two.
Ling Hua's cultivation would mature completely.
Then—
He would harvest him.
Consume the Blood Nourishing Pill.
And use its immense medicinal power to force his way into the Golden Core Realm.
But—
Ling Hua had never been unique.
Lizarius' thoughts settled upon another memory.
Seven names.
Seven faces.
Scattered across different regions.
Each cultivating the exact same technique.
Each believing they had stumbled upon an extraordinary opportunity.
Each convinced they had discovered a path that surpassed ordinary cultivators.
In reality—
Every one of them...
Was livestock.
Raised.
Fed.
Allowed to grow.
Only to be harvested once they had fully ripened.
*Seven more.*
His golden eyes remained utterly emotionless.
*Including Ling Hua...*
*Eight furnaces in total.*
The black-robed cultivator stared at the silent lizard.
His fear only deepened.
"...You..."
His voice trembled uncontrollably.
"...What..."
"...What are you going to do?"
Lizarius finally shifted his gaze toward him.
Those golden eyes held no anger.
No hatred.
No satisfaction.
Only quiet observation.
The endless white remained perfectly still.
Not even the faintest ripple disturbed the boundless expanse.
The black-robed cultivator's breathing gradually steadied.
The trembling in his body lessened.
The fear remained.
But beneath that fear—
His mind slowly began functioning once again.
*Think.*
*Calm down.*
*This creature mentioned... mental strength.*
His eyes flickered.
He carefully recalled every word spoken since arriving here.
Every action.
Every detail.
Every subtle clue.
*This isn't reality.*
*It's a mental space.*
His gaze slowly swept across the endless white.
*Everything I've experienced...*
*Everything it showed me...*
*My memories...*
*This place is connected to my consciousness.*
His breathing became increasingly controlled.
His thoughts accelerated.
*If that's true...*
*Then remaining afraid accomplishes nothing.*
*A mental technique...*
*A dream...*
*A realm formed within consciousness...*
*There has to be a weakness.*
His eyes slowly brightened.
*To escape...*
*I don't need to defeat it.*
*I only need to sever the connection.*
*As long as my consciousness returns to my body...*
*This nightmare will collapse.*
Without another moment of hesitation, he immediately began circulating his soul.
Rather than gathering spiritual energy—
He condensed every fragment of mental strength toward the center of his consciousness.
His sea of consciousness trembled.
One pulse.
Then another.
The endless white quivered almost imperceptibly.
The black-robed cultivator noticed it immediately.
*It reacted...*
*A mental world really can be shaken.*
Hope appeared within his eyes.
*Good.*
*Then there is a way.*
He no longer paid any attention to Lizarius.
Instead—
He focused entirely upon his own consciousness.
His soul continuously contracted inward.
Compressing.
Stabilizing.
Attempting to awaken himself through sheer force of will.
Tiny cracks slowly spread across the endless white.
Hairline fractures.
Barely visible.
Yet unmistakably real.
The man's expression became increasingly excited.
*It's working...*
*Just a little more...*
*I can break free—*
Lizarius quietly observed everything.
He neither interfered...
Nor moved.
His golden eyes calmly followed every fluctuation within the man's consciousness.
*Reasonable.*
*He reached the correct conclusion.*
The Nightmare Vision did indeed operate through the target's consciousness.
Destroying that connection...
Would normally allow the victim to escape.
The black-robed cultivator was neither foolish nor weak.
After experiencing the technique only once, he had correctly identified its underlying principle.
For an ordinary illusion technique...
His method would have succeeded.
Lizarius remained perfectly calm.
*Unfortunately...*
*This is not merely a dream.*
The cracks continued spreading.
The cultivator poured even more mental strength into his attempt to escape.
His consciousness roared violently.
The entire white world shook.
Then—
Lizarius' soul stirred.
No grand technique.
No dazzling display.
No overwhelming release of power.
He merely allowed his own consciousness to unfold.
The difference...
Was absolute.
**BOOM.**
The endless white stabilized instantly.
Every crack vanished.
The trembling ceased.
The world became perfectly still once more.
The black-robed cultivator froze.
His compressed consciousness...
Stopped.
As though an invisible mountain had descended directly upon his soul.
His pupils contracted violently.
*What...*
*Impossible...*
He tried again.
Nothing moved.
Not a single fragment of his consciousness responded.
It wasn't because he had been suppressed.
It wasn't because he had been injured.
It wasn't even because he had been restrained.
It was simply because...
His consciousness had encountered something incomparably greater than itself.
Lizarius spoke for the first time since the man had begun resisting.
"...Correct."
"You understood the principle."
Hope briefly returned to the cultivator's face.
Then—
Lizarius continued.
"...Your mistake..."
"...Was believing your consciousness possessed enough strength to sever the connection."
Silence.
Those words struck harder than any physical attack.
The black-robed cultivator's expression slowly stiffened.
Lizarius' golden eyes quietly met his.
"...This dream..."
"...Exists because I allow it to."
The endless white fell silent once more.
At that moment...
The black-robed cultivator finally understood.
The problem had never been the technique.
The problem...
Was the one wielding it.
His breathing became ragged once again.
Fear flooded every corner of his mind.
Lizarius calmly regarded him.
"...It may exist within your subconscious."
A brief pause.
"...But I dominate your subconscious."
The man's pupils trembled violently.
Lizarius continued.
"...Had your subconscious been stronger..."
"...The outcome might have been different."
His golden eyes remained utterly emotionless.
"...But in your case..."
"...It is not."
Silence.
Those simple words echoed endlessly throughout the boundless white.
The black-robed cultivator instinctively took a step backward.
His face had already turned deathly pale.
"...W-What..."
"...What are you...?"
Lizarius no longer looked at him.
"...I've seen all I wished to see."
The cultivator's expression changed completely.
Panic overwhelmed the fear.
"...Wait!"
"What do you mean by—"
Before he could finish—
The endless white shattered.
The dream collapsed.
His voice disappeared along with it.
---
The cave dwelling returned.
The black-robed cultivator's vacant eyes suddenly regained a trace of awareness.
Only for a single instant.
Within his pupils—
A massive white maw descended upon him.
"...!"
**Crunch.**
Silence.
Nothing remained.
Not blood.
Not bone.
Not flesh.
Not even his robes.
Everything had vanished.
Only a faint crimson stain lingered briefly upon Lizarius' lips.
The enormous white-scaled lizard slowly finished swallowing.
His golden eyes remained as calm as ever.
His tongue swept lightly across his maw.
The final trace of blood disappeared.
At that moment—
The familiar mechanical voice echoed within his mind.
**"Acquired: 8,768 Evolution Points."**
Lizarius remained where he stood.
His golden eyes slowly swept across the now-empty cave dwelling.
Only silence remained.
Then—
His gaze settled upon the faint blue thread still suspended within the air.