In the darkness, Shi Hao felt as though his head, torso, and limbs had been torn apart, plummeting into molten lava until only his skeleton remained, the agony unbearable.
Yet, he firmly believed this was merely a trick of the mind—not reality!
What hell, what wailing demon gods, even the vision of an immortal being torn apart—all were illusions, mere phantoms.
He was certain he still stood in place, merely trapped in a realm of consciousness, which was why he experienced such horrors. At this moment, he couldn’t help but marvel at the potency of the Netherworld Fruit.
Because it felt too real, almost flawless, as if he were truly enduring it, not some fabricated nightmare.
He roared, desperate to awaken from this nightmare, to seize control!
Even if this was a trial to temper his will, a necessary ordeal to forge his indomitable spirit, he wanted to face it actively, not passively drown in it.
The endless darkness enveloped him, his consciousness growing fainter, as if on the verge of dissipating into eternal oblivion.
“All of this is fake! Wake up!” Shi Hao bellowed.
Yet, as he opened his mouth, searing lava poured in, only to flow out from his throat. He felt no flesh—only his skull and skeletal limbs suspended in the crimson liquid.
Why was it so real? Why couldn’t he wake up?
Again and again, Shi Hao struggled, trying every method to rouse himself, but his will only grew hazier, nearing total dissolution.
“No… If I fall into this darkness, will I never wake again?” His weakened will whispered, a chill creeping in.
His suffering was too much, too bizarre. If he succumbed here, lost in the lava sea, would something irreversible happen?
Even if this was a world of will, a dream, if his spirit was damaged, would it affect his cultivation?
“Foolish. This is real hell. The Netherworld Fruit bridges life and death. Within it lies a set of mystical glyphs—the moment you swallowed it, a spatial coordinate opened, dragging you into hell.”
A cold, emotionless voice echoed in the darkness, like a judge delivering a verdict.
“Why is it called the Netherworld Fruit? Because it contains the coordinates to hell, a gate to the underworld. Die here, and your life ends. Survive, and your will is tempered.”
The voice spoke without joy or sorrow.
Shi Hao wavered. His will was strong, but the torment had been unbearable—dismemberment, lava that could incinerate gods and demons. It was too much.
Now, he doubted. Was this truly just a dream conjured by the fruit? Or was it real? Did the divine fruit truly open a portal to another realm?
A shiver ran down his spine. This was too horrifying.
Still, he refused to fully believe it. Such a fruit defied reason.
Regardless, he couldn’t afford to lose consciousness. Whether real or illusion, staying awake was his only advantage. Otherwise, disaster loomed.
“Crk!”
Then, his skull shattered, consumed by the lava. His primordial spirit fractured, splitting into fragments before rapidly dimming.
“How can this feel so real? Am I dying?” Shi Hao still resisted, but the pain of his spirit splitting and the looming sense of death were too vivid.
At last, he could hold on no longer. The boundless darkness swallowed him, his consciousness scattering, as if he were ceasing to exist.
Now, even the ability to think faded. He was truly gone—dust to dust, ashes to ashes.
With a final, thunderous silence, his awareness vanished, drowned in the abyss.
“This is too cruel…” His last wisp of thought flickered. If this was an illusion, it was indistinguishable from reality.
If it was real, then he was surely dead.
Time passed indeterminately. From the lava, an island of bones emerged, rising from the crimson sea, as if years had flowed by. Wisps of ghostly fire flickered upon it.
Among them, one soul-flame burned brighter, distinct from the rest.
“Who… am I?” A vague murmur escaped it.
Then, it saw a dull sword embryo, shattered bones, and rusted armor—familiar, yet distant.
“I remember… These feel like relics of a life once lived.” The soul-flame murmured before suddenly screaming in agony, struggling to recall.
Years drifted by. On the bone island, soul-flames flickered in and out of existence, but that one peculiar flame remained, circling the sword and armor.
One day, it noticed two peculiar bone fragments among the relics, sparking new memories.
“Primordial True Solution… Ten Thousand Spirits Diagram…”
It writhed in pain, filled with resentment and despair.
“I was someone called ‘Huang’… the Heavenly Emperor… Shi Hao?” It spoke to itself, questioning the depths of its soul.
But the details eluded it. Only fragments remained, tormenting it with the need to know the past.
Day after day, it struggled, facing indestructible relics, piecing together fleeting glimpses of memory.
Years turned to decades. Time held no meaning here.
Decades passed. The soul wandered, recalling more and more. Its past grew clearer.
“I am Shi Hao. I ate a Netherworld Fruit, fell into hell, failed to endure… and died here…”
When the truth fully dawned, the soul froze. All joys, sorrows, loved ones—everything was gone.
A howl tore from it, echoing like a vengeful ghost through the desolation.
Remembering the mortal world, it seethed with regret. To die like this—without farewells, alone and forgotten.
“This isn’t real!” it screamed.
Time flowed. A century passed before its wounded heart found solace.
“A hundred years… Was it all real?” The last shred of hope vanished. Time didn’t lie. The cruelty was undeniable.
“I want to return… to see them again!” The soul-flame blazed with desperate energy.
“With enough will, you may reincarnate.” The cold voice returned.
A wheel materialized, radiating the power of samsara. It bore segments marking different realms of rebirth.
With a flash, the soul was drawn onto the wheel, plunged into a black vortex—sent to its next life.
Memories flashed—joys, sorrows, faces, regrets—all vivid.
Shi Hao sighed. Was this life truly over? The injustice burned.
“What of the world I left behind? I wanted to see them again…”
Bitter and grieving, he was swallowed by the vortex, refined into pure soul-energy for reincarnation.
Then, he felt like an unborn child, cradled in a womb, nourished by primal essence, untouched by worldly corruption.
“Reincarnation with memories?” Shi Hao pondered, circulating the Primordial True Solution and Willow God’s techniques, drawing wisps of natural essence.
He tried to strengthen himself and his mother, but it proved futile.
“Netherworld Fruit… you’re monstrous.”
Time blurred. As birth neared, enlightenment struck. He refused to believe this was real.
“Even if I don’t understand how a century felt so real, I know this is a dream. I am Huang. I am Shi Hao. Wake up!”
Yet, no awakening came. He lived, aged, and died in a world devoid of spiritual energy—a mundane existence.
At 160 years, he passed, a long life by mortal standards, but pitiful compared to his past.
Again, he reincarnated.
Now silent, he carried memories into each life, enduring decay and death without protest.
Until one cycle returned him to hell, where the voice spoke once more:
“After so many lives, what have you learned?”
“Netherworld Fruit… you’re monstrous,” Shi Hao replied.
Suddenly, the world shattered. Lava erupted, hurling him from hell.
Shi Hao awoke, standing before three radiant golden plants, bathed in holy light. Netherworld Fruits hung from their branches.
“A grand dream!” he marveled, overjoyed—his spiritual power had surged beyond measure.
Such strength at the Heavenly Deity Realm? Unthinkable!
But then his eyes blazed, pupils contracting.
On his palm—four tiny, unmistakable marks.
**Cycle Seals.**
Just like those branded before each reincarnation.
Four seals. Four lives in that “dream.”
Ancient texts spoke of reincarnation, of rare geniuses bearing such marks.
But few could retain them.
**”What is this?!”** Shi Hao roared.
Tai Sui Yellow Amulet Paper FuLu Taoist Love Talisman Traditional Chinese Spiritual Charm Attracting Love Protecting Marriage