Tsuihō retreated to his makeshift shelter, his mind a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts. The recent battle had left him with more than just scavenged supplies; it had given him a glimpse into the possibilities that lay before him, and the challenges he would face.
As he settled in for the night, his gaze, sharp and calculating, fell upon the spoils he had plundered from the dead. Two containers, each holding the promise of power, sat before him: the first, a slender vial filled with a shimmering, blue fluid that seemed to pulse with an inner light; the second, a crude, unassuming bottle filled with bright green pills, each perfectly round, each a tiny vessel of unknown potential. He had to choose, to gamble, to decide which path to take first in this deadly game. It could mean the difference between ascending to something beyond comprehension, or a swift, ignominious end in this desolate wasteland. He just had to trust his gut for what's was coming.
He knew, with a chilling certainty, that the path to power was paved with broken bones and shattered dreams. Danger was not a deterrent, but an invitation. He was willing, even eager, to embrace the risk, to dance on the knife's edge between triumph and oblivion. He would push himself beyond the boundaries of human endurance, both physical and mental, to tear down the veil that concealed the secrets of this brutal world. What's a world with no danger or fun right ? He would do anything that was required of him.
He decided, for now, to humor logic and start with the martial arts pills. He figured it would strengthen his base before doing anything
It seemed sensible, almost… responsible, to enhance his body's strength and resilience before attempting to channel any alien, unpredictable energies. A stronger body, he reasoned, would be better equipped to withstand any unforeseen side effects, any agonizing transformations. Besides, even a fool knew to strengthen your base before building upon it, and right now, he could say much less he was weak
As for his body now? He couldn't say much; it was as if he was as close to death as those corpses just that they were more free than him, not held on to this earth by any string.
Tsuihō began the next morning after a night of barely any sleep. He first decided he would take the martial pills because they supposedly increased body strength - an effect that was obvious for various reasons. He chose the martial pills first because he guessed that taking mana directly into his body might have unknown and potentially dangerous effects, since his physique hadn't been tempered by the various energies, known and unknown, in this world. He figured the qi should prepare his body for it, even though the qi itself was also a risk. But before all that, he remembered how he had contemplated whether the two energies could even exist, let alone interact, in the same vessel: his body. Though he thought it might not be possible, he still didn't give up; he had already decided to use any and every way possible to become stronger. He also thought it was just like fire and water, two opposing elements that many assumed could not coexist. Yet, even in the modern world he remembered, there were instances where water, in fact, caused fire, or water actually aided a fire to burn brighter. Whether or not qi and mana could coexist was not his problem, he would force these two energies to not just coexist, but complement each other. He would create his own yin and yang using both energies, because he was Tsuihō, the exile, the one who was exiled from the world of the living and dead ,the one who was apart from all, he who would break all rules - rules of those in power or what was considered to be the correct path. Just because the world said it wouldn't work didn't mean he would accept the rules or the words of those who he would one day surpass.
After settling down and steeling his nerves, he reached for the bottle containing the pills. He hesitated only a fraction of a second, then, with a decisive movement, uncorked it and swallowed all of the green orbs in one gulp.
There was no turning back now. He waited, his senses on high alert, expecting… something. For the first few moments, nothing. An unnerving stillness settled over his body, a deceptive calm that masked the storm brewing within. Then, a subtle shift: his blood began to heat, a slow, insidious warmth that spread from his very core to the very tips of his fingers and toes. His heartbeat quickened, a frantic drumbeat against his ribs, and he could feel his blood rushing through his veins, a torrent of liquid fire. And then, out of nowhere, came a sensation he could only describe as… strange. It was as if a new sense had awakened, a ghostly awareness that allowed him to perceive something just beyond the reach of his normal senses. He could feel an energy, a subtle vibration that resonated deep within his bones, a phantom limb twitching in the air. It was a feeling of both presence and absence, of being intimately connected to something vast and unknowable, and utterly isolated from it at the same time. He understood it and he could not understand it at the same time.
The initial seconds of this bizarre sensation were almost… pleasant. A tantalizing glimpse into a hidden reality, a promise of power beyond his wildest dreams. But then, with the suddenness of a lightning strike, the pleasantness shattered, replaced by an agony so intense it threatened to consume him entirely. It felt as if the very energy he had sought to control was now turning against him, invading his body like a hostile army. His organs twisted and convulsed, his veins bulged and throbbed, his blood vessels stretched to their breaking point. He was on the verge of imploding, of being reduced to nothing but a pulped, shattered mess of flesh and bone.