Three days passed, and Văn Tân still lay motionless on the bamboo bed inside the modest room. His complexion remained slightly pale, yet his breathing had gradually grown steadier. Each day, Elder Chu brought him a bowl of hot medicinal soup, patiently feeding him spoonful by spoonful, occasionally smacking his lips and muttering to himself:
"This brat… who knows what kind of trouble he stirred up in the Scripture Pavilion to suffer such severe damage to his soul. I only hope he wakes soon otherwise… it'd be a real waste of that sturdy body of his."
Meanwhile, deep within Văn Tân's sea of consciousness, the black incense burner drifted silently. The golden patterns upon it spread like tiny streams, flowing into gentle currents of light. That radiance wrapped around his soul, little by little mending the faint cracks within it, causing the lingering pain half-real, half-illusory to slowly fade away.
At times, within the darkness of his awareness, Văn Tân vaguely heard the low rumble of a dragon's roar. At others, he glimpsed the silhouette of a white tiger lying curled up, seemingly sealed within a corner of the incense burner, trembling as it breathed weakly. Everything was hazy, like an endless, drifting dream.
On the third day, the morning sunlight filtered through the crack in the door and fell upon the coarse blanket. On the bed, Văn Tân's eyelashes trembled lightly, his breathing lengthened, as if his soul were finally about to return to his body.
Within the vast emptiness of the sea of consciousness, two colossal figures suddenly appeared the Six-Clawed True Dragon and the White Tiger. Both lay motionless, their massive bodies riddled with cracks of glowing light, as though they had just endured a brutal, life-and-death battle. There was no trace of spiritual radiance, no sign of conscious fluctuation only a profound stillness, like creatures slumbering for a thousand years.
Suddenly, from the center of the True Dragon's brow and the White Tiger's forehead alike, a mysterious light flashed.
Two ancient seals manifested one bearing a silver dragon sigil, the other a golden tiger mark each exuding an aura that was both majestic and gentle. They trembled softly, then transformed into twin streams of light that shot straight toward Văn Tân's brow.
The instant the seals entered his body, the entire sea of consciousness erupted in brilliant light. A cool, soothing force like a spring breeze flowed through his spirit, stitching together every faint fracture. The sharp pain from before vanished completely, replaced by an indescribable lightness. His soul seemed to have been reforged, becoming far denser and more resilient than before.
Beside the slowly rotating black incense burner, the two spirit beasts remained asleep, yet their breathing was now steady, no longer chaotic as it once had been. A thin, shimmering thread of light connected them to Văn Tân's brow, silently bearing witness to the newly formed bond between master and servants.
Amid that warm radiance, Văn Tân vaguely sensed that from this moment onward, deep within his soul were engraved the imprints of Dragon and Tiger a new power waiting for him to awaken.
As sunlight from outside slipped through the bamboo blinds and fell upon his face, his eyelashes fluttered again. Slowly, he opened his eyes. The dim outline of the rough wooden ceiling came into view, followed by the familiar faces of Elder Chu and Xiao Zhuo.
Xiao Zhuo let out a small cry of delight and hurried to the bedside:
"Oh! Brother Văn Tân is awake!"
Elder Chu let out a long breath, relief clearly showing in his aged eyes:
"You finally decided to open your eyes.
These past three days nearly scared me to death! I thought this stubborn brat had already gone to meet his ancestors."
The other roommates rushed over as well, speaking all at once:
"Junior Brother Văn Tân, how do you feel now?"
"You, honestly next time don't get so obsessed with cultivation techniques that you forget your own life!"
Văn Tân slowly propped himself up, feeling an unusual lightness throughout his body. A trace of warmth rose in his chest. He smiled faintly, his voice still a little hoarse:
"Thank you, everyone. I was just… a bit careless and pushed myself too far while cultivating."
Xiao Zhuo laughed openly:
"Good thing Elder Chu fed you medicine every day. Otherwise, I'm afraid you'd have slept yourself to death!"
Elder Chu snorted softly, though the corners of his mouth lifted:
"Alright, enough talk. Văn Tân, get some more rest. We'll talk about work tomorrow I've already arranged someone to cover for you. As long as you recover, that's all that matters."
Light laughter filled the room, the tension of the past three days dissolving into easy warmth. Văn Tân quietly looked at each familiar face, an indescribable warmth welling up in his heart. In this unfamiliar world, he was no longer completely alone.
After everyone left, the room fell silent once more. Văn Tân steadied his breathing and sat cross-legged on the bed, allowing his consciousness to slowly sink back into the sea of awareness.
The familiar waves of spiritual light appeared again. Within the boundless void, aside from the floating black incense burner, two additional strange presences now emerged.
One was a massive bone fragment, nearly as long as a human body. An ancient and violent aura radiated from it, as though the deep roar of a White Tiger were sealed within. Vague runic inscriptions were carved across its surface each stroke emitting a faint gray glow, resembling forbidden seals meant to suppress something terrifying.
Not far away, a deep-blue scroll hovered silently in midair, exuding an extremely mysterious aura. The moment Văn Tân glimpsed the words written upon its cover, his heart began to race:
"Void Art"
When he gently touched the scroll with his consciousness, indistinct information echoed within his mind:
"A cultivation art condensed by the incense burner. Through comprehension of the Dao of Void an original law surpassing Space itself it allows one to open passages and leap through the fissures of nothingness."
Yet just as suddenly, the voice fell silent, leaving behind only the strange breathing-like presence of the two objects, as if they were waiting for his decision.
Văn Tân sat still, his heart surging with excitement. He understood that the White Tiger bone had likely formed from the dissipation of that beast's remnant soul its remaining essence directly nourishing and strengthening his own spirit. As for the Void Art, it rivaled even Heaven-tier cultivation techniques, something the incense burner itself had produced. If either of these treasures were to appear within a Sacred Land sect, they would be regarded as priceless existences worth oceans of resources, perhaps still impossible to obtain through competition alone.
Especially cultivation methods involving Heaven-and-Earth Laws such things were never meant to exist openly. They could only be self-comprehended by ancient cultivators who had lived for thousands of years.
After observing the bone once more, Văn Tân focused all his attention on the blue scroll. His fingers lightly brushed its surface, and immediately, lines of text appeared in his consciousness like dragons soaring and phoenixes dancing.
"Void Art consists of nine levels. Upon entry, one may sense the faint threads connecting all spaces. With the guidance of the soul, one borrows the breath of the void to step into the cracks of nothingness."
The more he read, the more sweat beaded on his forehead. These words were unlike any cultivation method he had ever encountered they seemed to contain the rhythm of the universe itself. Simply reading them stretched his soul taut, as though it were about to slip into an endless abyss.
Văn Tân slowly closed his eyes and attempted to activate the opening verse. Streams of intent rotated within his sea of consciousness, merging with the faint glow of the incense burner. A soft "buzz… buzz…" sounded, and hazy ripples appeared around him only to vanish instantly, leaving behind an indescribable sense of emptiness.
He opened his eyes and exhaled deeply. Merely grasping the fundamentals had already shaken his spirit. He understood clearly now: to even enter the Void Art required not just spiritual energy, but an extremely powerful divine sense. Cultivating it recklessly would result in madness at best or death at worst.
Clutching the scroll tightly, his gaze hardened. The path ahead was perilous, but it was also the only chance for him to transcend all limitations. If he wished to return to Earth, to the world where he and his family once lived, this was his sole opportunity. Success in entering this art might truly allow him to go home.
He closed his eyes again, one hand still resting on the scroll. Within his sea of consciousness, glowing words slowly formed, assembling into five incantatory verses:
"Guide Spirit into the Sea of Consciousness,
Let the Cycles Generate One Another.
Devour the Unusual of Heaven,
Refine the Bones Against the Heavens,
Let the Void Move of Its Own Will."
The sound did not come from his mouth it resonated directly from the depths of his mind, shaking his soul to its core. Each word carved itself into his divine sense, carrying an ancient, boundless aura of heaven and earth.
When the final line echoed, ripples surged through the sea of consciousness. Thin spatial cracks appeared all around, then sealed themselves in an instant. Văn Tân drew a sharp breath merely reciting the incantation had already caused fluctuations in the void.
Letting the verses echo through every corner of his mind, he carefully contemplated them one by one.
"Guide Spirit into the Sea of Consciousness."
That meant drawing spiritual energy directly into the sea of consciousness to nourish the soul. This was a forbidden act cultivators normally used the dantian as the foundation. Failure would result in shattered souls, insanity, or complete annihilation.
"Let the Cycles Generate One Another."
He recalled the Five-Element formation within his consciousness and the incense burner resting deep within. Perhaps this is the key, he thought using the artificial Five-Element pseudo-root he created, relying on mutual generation to stabilize the mind.
Then came:
"Devour the Unusual of Heaven,
Refine the Bones Against the Heavens."
Văn Tân frowned in thought. Devouring rare treasures, spiritual medicines, even the essence of heaven and earth itself refining one's body beyond mortal limits. Only with bones strong enough to withstand overwhelming power could one survive such consumption.
Finally:
"Let the Void Move of Its Own Will."
Only when all conditions were met spirit entering consciousness, Five Elements in balance, devouring rare treasures, a strengthened body, and an unyielding soul could the Void Art truly be cultivated. Otherwise, even the slightest misstep would mean soul destruction and death.
He opened his eyes, resolve burning within them. The dangers were immense but so was the opportunity to step beyond mortality and touch the mysteries of spacetime.
Suddenly, his gaze drifted to the object resting quietly in his sea of consciousness
the White Tiger bone, exuding an ancient, savage aura.
He murmured softly:
"Devouring rare treasures… refining bones against the heavens. Isn't there already a perfect candidate before me?"
His eyes lit up. That bone contained the essence of a supreme beast, etched with profound forbidden runes. If he could absorb its core essence, he could strengthen his body and perhaps lay the foundation for the first level of the Void Art.
Yet fear crept in. The bone's terrifying aura could reduce him to ashes if forced recklessly.
His gaze shifted to the black incense burner floating nearby. It had already devoured beast bloodlines and protected his soul before.
A thought flashed:
"If it can refine bloodlines… perhaps it can refine this bone as well."
His heart pounded. Dangerous but the only path forward.
Taking a deep breath, Văn Tân's eyes hardened.
"Then… let the incense burner lead the way. I'll try!"
As he recited the incantation, the incense burner trembled. Golden patterns burst into light, forming luminous threads that wrapped around the bone. Savage energy erupted in resistance, but the burner hummed deeply, drawing it in and crushing it into light.
Cracks formed. Essence was extracted. The roar of a White Tiger echoed but was subdued.
Silver-gold spiritual energy flowed into Văn Tân's soul.
Pain and ecstasy surged together.
At last, only dust remained.
His bones felt reforged. His soul stronger.
He exhaled slowly, a faint smile forming.
"Success…
The first step of the Void Art
I've crossed it."