Dongbo Xueying teleported repeatedly through the Void World, swiftly traversing the Black Rain Domain. Soon, he spotted the massive vortex formed by dark clouds in the sky, its swirling depths distorting space—the passage leading to the ‘Xueying Domain.’
“Only one of the Three Demon Halls remains, and it’s the most challenging one,” Dongbo Xueying murmured before soaring into the vortex.
**Xueying Domain.**
A biting wind howled, and snowflakes as large as goose feathers blanketed the land in pristine white.
The moment Dongbo Xueying arrived, he felt a piercing chill. Snowflakes landed on him but were instantly repelled by the radiant power of Taihao.
Holding the Three Demon Hall token, he followed its guidance and pressed onward.
…
As before, a bubble materialized out of thin air, enveloping him and transporting him directly to the ‘Heartforge Hall.’
Dongbo Xueying surveyed his surroundings—a vast expanse of snow, with a grand hall at its center, its eaves so laden with snow that some had collapsed onto the ground. Above the entrance, three ancient characters were inscribed: *Heartforge Hall*.
Stepping inside, he found the hall free of snow. The mottled walls bore densely packed text—the final of the three foundational secret arts: *Heartforge Art*.
“*Heartforge Art*,” a hoarse voice intoned.
Dongbo Xueying turned to see an elderly man clad in white robes, his hair and beard snowy and long enough to reach his chest. “Young one of the Destruction Legion, the Heartforge Art is the most difficult of the three foundational arts. Since the Demon Ancestor created the Six Paths Heavenly Wheel and left behind the Three Demon Halls, countless cosmic epochs have passed, and many have obtained the tokens. While the first two arts are demanding, none compare to the Heartforge Art. Many who mastered the first two could never achieve the third.”
“*Hemolysis* and *Bone Corrosion* are one thing,” the elder continued. “But the Heartforge Art tempers your very soul—your truest self. That is the greatest trial.”
He fixed his gaze on Dongbo Xueying. “This is the Demon Ancestor’s ultimate test. Only by mastering the Heartforge Art can you claim the legacy he left behind.”
Dongbo Xueying smiled. “Thank you. You’re far more courteous than the previous two.”
“Even artifacts have wisdom… and emotions,” the white-bearded elder replied before sitting cross-legged to the side, closing his eyes and paying him no further heed.
Dongbo Xueying blinked in surprise but soon turned his attention back to the inscriptions on the wall.
Before long, he had memorized the entire *Heartforge Art*.
“Three Trials of the Heart?” he murmured.
The art required enduring three tribulations of the soul. Success meant mastery.
“According to my master’s intelligence, this is indeed the most difficult,” Dongbo Xueying mused, not daring to underestimate it. If obtaining the token upon entering the Three Demon Halls marked half the battle, then mastering the Heartforge Art was the other half. While *Hemolysis* and *Bone Corrosion* could eventually be conquered through repeated attempts, the same could not be said for the Heartforge Art.
Many never succeeded in their entire lifetimes.
“Begin.” Dongbo Xueying sat cross-legged, closed his eyes, and commenced his cultivation.
…
The Heartforge Art consisted of three trials.
The first: *Despair*.
Within his sea of consciousness, his soul—now child-sized—sat in meditation. The moment he activated the art, chains materialized around it, searing like branding irons wherever they touched.
“Ah!” The pain struck directly at his soul.
It escalated so rapidly that Dongbo Xueying let out a stifled roar, his body collapsing to the ground in convulsions. Even at the most grueling moments of the previous two arts, he had never fallen. Yet here, the agony was unbearable from the outset, growing fiercer by the second.
“Ghh—!”
His teeth clenched until blood seeped from his lips. Beads of sweat and blood oozed from his skin as his body trembled uncontrollably.
Still, he clung to a sliver of clarity, forcing himself to continue.
The torment intensified.
Just as he felt himself drowning in an abyss of hopelessness, the pain began to recede—as swiftly as it had come. Gasping, Dongbo Xueying sat up, his body instantly cleansed of blood and sweat.
But his relief was short-lived.
As he resumed the art, the agony surged anew, climbing to even greater heights.
…
The pain peaked, then ebbed—only to return stronger each time. A creeping dread took root in Dongbo Xueying’s heart, for there seemed no end to this torment. Each wave plunged him deeper into hell, surpassing the last.
An endless nightmare, growing ever more unbearable.
Though his heart was as clear as crystal—fearless and unshaken—even he could not suppress the exhaustion creeping into his soul.
Pushing oneself to the limit was draining, and here, there was no respite.
His will was unyielding, but even the strongest spirit could wear thin.
*Strike while the iron is hot; the second blow weakens, the third fails.*
In this crucible of suffering, Dongbo Xueying’s mental fortitude frayed. Yet he could not stop—failure meant repeating the *Despair Trial* from the beginning.
He refused to endure it again.
So he endured.
Again.
And again.
An abyss of despair yawned before him, yet his defiance held firm.
*No doubts. No worries. No fear. A mind serene, a will unbroken, a heart singular.*
Even as his soul teetered on the brink of collapse, even as his cultivation grew mechanical and numb, he endured.
As a youth, he had trained his spear arts to their limits daily. Later, poisoned by the Black Witch’s venom, he had gritted his teeth until the last possible moment before taking the antidote—knowing early relief would only shorten his life.
But none of that compared to this.
*No end in sight.*
His soul, now vastly stronger than before, still quailed before this trial.
And this was only the first of three.
Time lost meaning.
He felt death’s approach, sustained only by that single, unyielding thought.
His mental strength had long been spent, yet still he held on.
Then—
“Boom—!”
As another wave of excruciating pain crested and faded, Dongbo Xueying froze.
He realized—
The *Despair Trial* was complete.
“I… survived?” He was dazed. Though his mind was weary, joy blossomed in his heart. He had escaped that hell at last.
His smile was wan as he calculated the time elapsed.
“Two days?!” He was stunned.
Subjectively, it had felt like millennia.
Yet only two days had passed.
He allowed himself to rest—half a year of utter relaxation—until his spirit was renewed, free of all fatigue.
Only then did he begin the second trial: *Heart’s Stirring*.
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