Lizarius remained silent for several moments.
Then—
his calm voice echoed through the endless white.
"As I said."
"I have reconstructed the art."
Lían remained wary.
Lizarius continued.
"It no longer turns the cultivator into a pill."
"The reconstructed version only requires the absorption of life force and blood essence."
"From humans."
"Or demon beasts."
"That energy can then be refined and converted into strength for the cultivator's own cultivation."
"No part of the process requires the cultivator to harm themselves."
Silence.
Lían's expression remained complicated.
*You say that so casually...*
*How can you be certain it won't harm me?*
Before he could say anything—
Lizarius answered.
"I have simulated it."
Lían froze.
"...I forgot you can hear my thoughts."
Lizarius didn't respond to that.
Lían sighed.
"Yeah, well..."
"I still don't want to learn it."
His expression became firm.
"It's a demonic art."
"Absorbing the life force of another living being..."
He shook his head.
"That's one thing."
"But turning that life force into cultivation..."
"I don't want to—"
"I'm not asking."
Lían stopped.
Silence.
He stared at Lizarius.
The lizard's golden eyes remained completely calm.
There was no anger.
No impatience.
Only absolute certainty.
Lían slowly swallowed.
"...What?"
Lizarius' voice remained unchanged.
"You have no choice."
Lían's expression stiffened.
"Your opinion is irrelevant."
"You will learn the technique."
A long silence followed.
Lían stared at him.
"...You're serious."
Lizarius didn't hesitate.
"That is my decision."
Lían's expression gradually became helpless.
"But—"
Lizarius immediately cut him off.
"You don't need to agree."
"You only need to learn it."
Lían opened his mouth.
Then closed it.
He looked away.
*...So that's how it is.*
He had known for a long time that Lizarius wasn't someone who made decisions based on whether others agreed with him.
But hearing it stated so directly was still unsettling.
He glanced back at him.
"...And if I refuse?"
Lizarius answered without hesitation.
"You won't."
Lían stared blankly.
"...That's not an answer."
"It is."
Lían remained silent.
Then—
he sighed.
"...You're really impossible."
Lizarius said nothing.
Lían lowered his gaze.
He didn't like the technique.
He didn't like what it represented.
And he certainly didn't like the idea of absorbing the life force of living creatures to increase his cultivation.
But—
he also understood something.
Lizarius wasn't asking him to make a moral decision.
He had already made the decision himself.
The only question remaining was whether Lían would try to resist, if resistance was even possible—
or use the opportunity to understand exactly what the technique could do.
Lían slowly raised his head.
"...Fine."
His expression remained reluctant.
"I'll learn it."
"But I'm not promising that I'll like it."
Lizarius' golden eyes remained unchanged.
"I don't require you to like it."
Lían sighed.
"...Of course you don't."
The endless white fell silent.
Then—
Lizarius spoke again.
"Begin."
Lían's expression changed.
"...Now?"
He stared at him for several seconds.
Then—
he reluctantly sat down.
"...Alright."
He closed his eyes.
"Show me the technique."
Lizarius remained hovering above him.
The next moment—
the endless white began to change.
A figure suddenly appeared within the endless white.
Lían's eyes widened.
"...You again?"
The copy stood silently before him.
It looked exactly as Lían remembered.
The same appearance.
The same expressionless gaze.
The same presence.
Lían frowned.
"What are you doing here?"
The copy didn't answer.
It simply walked toward him.
Lían instinctively took a step backward.
"Wait—"
The copy raised one hand.
Its index finger gently touched Lían's forehead.
Lían flinched.
"Hey, what are you—"
His voice suddenly stopped.
His eyes widened.
A flood of unfamiliar memories appeared inside his mind.
Circulation paths.
Meridian routes.
Spiritual energy movement.
Blood essence extraction.
Life force refinement.
The precise method of converting that energy into usable cultivation.
Everything.
It wasn't information he was merely being told.
He **understood** it.
As though he had practiced the technique countless times himself.
Lían staggered backward.
His hand instinctively touched his forehead.
"...What?"
His breathing became uneven.
He looked at the copy.
"How..."
"...How is that possible?"
No answer came.
The copy simply turned away.
Lían stared at its back.
"Wait."
"You just..."
His expression became increasingly confused.
"How did you put an entire cultivation technique directly into my mind?"
The copy continued walking.
Lían's mouth opened.
Then—
another figure appeared.
A young man.
He looked completely ordinary.
His clothes were slightly disheveled.
His expression was filled with confusion.
He looked around the endless white.
"...Where am I?"
He turned in several directions.
"What is this place?"
"How did I get here?"
"I was just—"
His voice suddenly stopped.
He noticed Lían.
Then—
his expression became even more confused.
"Who are you?"
Lían stared at him.
"...What?"
The young man took a cautious step backward.
"Where is this?"
"I don't remember coming here."
Lían slowly looked toward the copy.
Then back toward the young man.
*...What's going on?*
The copy suddenly moved.
Its arm shot forward.
**SHHK!**
Its hand pierced directly through the young man's chest.
The young man's eyes widened.
"...What?"
Blood spilled from his mouth.
His body trembled violently.
He looked down at the arm protruding from his chest.
"...Why..."
His voice became weak.
"...What's happening?"
Lían froze.
His eyes widened.
"Wait—!"
The young man coughed violently.
Blood dripped from his lips.
"Help..."
Before he could say anything else—
the copy's other hand seized his face.
Its fingers clamped around his jaw.
The young man's eyes widened in terror.
"No..."
The copy remained completely expressionless.
A dark crimson aura suddenly emerged from the young man's body.
It began flowing toward the copy's hand.
Then—
into its body.
Thin strands of crimson energy twisted through the air.
The young man's body visibly weakened.
His complexion rapidly became pale.
His muscles trembled.
His life force was disappearing.
Lían stood frozen.
He couldn't look away.
*...It's actually absorbing it.*
The principles of the technique instantly surfaced within his mind.
The life force.
The blood essence.
The spiritual energy contained within the body.
All of it was being extracted.
Separated.
Refined.
Converted.
Lían's expression became increasingly serious.
*So this is the technique...*
The crimson energy continued flowing.
The young man's struggles gradually weakened.
His eyes slowly lost their focus.
Lían remained silent.
He understood exactly what was happening.
He had just learned the technique.
And now—
he was watching it being used on a living person.
For the first time—
the memories implanted within his mind weren't merely theory.
They had become reality before his eyes.
Lían's fingers slowly tightened.
*...This is different from what I was shown before.*
*There is no pill.*
*No self-refinement.*
*The energy is being directly absorbed and converted.*
His gaze remained fixed upon the copy.
*But the process...*
*It's still taking someone's life.*
The crimson energy gradually faded.
The young man's body collapsed.
Silence returned to the endless white.
The copy slowly withdrew its hand.
Then—
it turned toward Lían.
"...Your turn."
Lían's expression changed.
Before he could respond—
another figure appeared.
An older woman.
She looked completely normal.
Her expression was calm.
Her clothes were simple.
She glanced around the endless white with confusion.
"...Where am I?"
Lían froze.
His eyes widened.
"...Aunt Qin Qing?"
The woman turned toward him.
"Lían?"
Her expression immediately changed to surprise.
"Is that really you?"
Lían didn't move.
His gaze remained fixed upon her.
His lips parted slightly.
"...No."
The copy stepped beside him.
"Put what you've learned into practice."
Lían remained motionless.
His fingers slowly tightened.
"No way..."
His voice was barely audible.
*I'm supposed to kill her?*
His gaze shifted toward the older woman.
*And absorb her life force as well?*
He knew this wasn't really her.
He understood that.
This was only a simulation.
A construct created within the dream space.
Yet—
his body refused to move.
*Why her?*
*Why someone I know?*
*Why not another stranger like before?*
Lían remained standing.
His sword hung loosely at his side.
He didn't raise it.
He didn't attack.
Above them—
Lizarius quietly watched.
His golden gaze remained fixed upon Lían.
Within his mind—
his thoughts remained calm.
*Even after everything...*
*He still hesitates.*
He had already put Lían through countless battles and forced him to take lives.
He had demonstrated the effects of the technique.
He had removed the harmful aspects of the original art.
Yet—
when faced with the actual act of using it on another person—
Lían still couldn't move.
Lizarius considered it quietly.
*I can push him.*
*But I cannot force him to accept it.*
*And even if I could...*
His gaze remained upon Lían.
*There is no need.*
*Given enough time, he will eventually encounter situations where he must make these decisions himself.*
*What matters is whether he can make that decision willingly.*
The copy stepped forward.
"...The benefits."
Lían remained silent.
"You want to become stronger."
Lían's expression tightened.
The copy continued.
"...Don't you?"
Lían looked away.
"You've already learned the technique."
"...You know what it can do."
"...So why hesitate?"
Silence.
The copy's gaze remained fixed upon him.
"...Is it because you know her?"
Lían's expression stiffened.
"Would you feel less guilty..."
"...if she were someone you didn't know?"
Lían's eyes narrowed.
The copy continued.
"...Someone you had never met?"
Lían said nothing.
The older woman remained several meters away.
She looked confused.
She didn't understand what was happening.
The copy took another step.
"...But this isn't the first time you've taken a life."
Lían's pupils contracted.
"...What?"
"You've killed before."
"Real lives."
"Real people."
Lían stared at the copy.
His eyes widened.
The copy's voice remained emotionless.
"...Haven't you?"
Silence.
Lían's mind flashed through memories.
The family.
The child.
Blood.
The lives he had already taken.
His fingers slowly tightened around his sword.
The copy continued.
"...So why hesitate now?"
Lían didn't answer.
His breathing became heavier.
The copy glanced toward the older woman.
"...Would it make things easier..."
"...if she were your mother?"
Lían's eyes widened.
The copy continued.
"...Or perhaps your sister?"
**BOOM!**
Spiritual energy suddenly erupted from Lían's body.
His expression changed completely.
Rage filled his eyes.
His sword was raised instantly.
"Don't."
The word came out low.
The copy stared at him.
Lían's grip tightened until his knuckles turned pale.
"Don't you dare."
His spiritual energy surged violently around him.
The older woman looked at him in confusion.
Lían's gaze never left the copy.
"If you dare turn her into my mother..."
His voice trembled with anger.
"...or my sister..."
His sword pointed directly toward the copy.
"I'll kill you."
Silence.
The copy simply stared at him.
Lían's eyes burned with rage.
"I don't care if this is a dream."
"I don't care if none of this is real."
His spiritual energy continued rising.
"But don't use them to force me."
The copy remained silent.
Lían's breathing was heavy.
His gaze became colder.
"...Mention them again..."
"...and you'll die."
A long silence followed.
Above them—
Lizarius continued watching.
His golden eyes remained calm.
He didn't interrupt.
He simply observed.
Because this reaction—
was itself information.