Chapter 88: The Sixth Day- The Mantra Of Darkness

Jiang Feng's steady breathing filled the quiet training room as he stared at the dagger resting on his father's forging table. Its intricate runic lines and ancient symbols glowed faintly, casting flickering shadows on the walls. Despite the dagger's immense weight, it exuded a mysterious allure, as if it were testing him, silently waiting to judge his worth.

This wasn't an ordinary weapon. Jiang Feng could feel it in his very bones—the dagger was alive, imbued with a will of its own. Its aura resonated with an ancient majesty, far beyond anything he had encountered before.

Jiang Feng stepped closer, his eyes narrowing. He gently placed a hand on the dagger's hilt, and an overwhelming surge of energy burst forth, slamming into his chest like a tidal wave. He staggered back, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth, his chest almost caving in.

"This is no simple treasure. Dad said he found it along side the Dragon vein blood bone fruit, could they be a set?" he muttered, wiping the blood away. His gaze turned fierce, and his fists clenched. "If you want to test me, then so be it."

Jiang Feng sat cross-legged before the forging table, activating both his awakened Eternal Bloodline and his Draconic Bloodline. His body began to emit two distinct auras. One was a fury red brilliance that seemed to ripple like a red moonlight, exuding timeless vitality and strength that blazed with the heat of the sun itself. The other was a deep, oppressive aura, as if the heavens themselves recoiled in awe—the manifestation of the black dragon coiled around his heart materialized above his head coiled in a ball of black lightning which caused the air to twist.

The dagger responded immediately. Its runes flared to life, illuminating the entire training room with a blinding light. Jiang Feng gritted his teeth as he felt a sharp, burning pain deep within him. The dagger demanded a price— the Eternal Flame codex once mentioned that the dagger had once almost responded when it sensed the Aetherion Dragon's aura, thus he believes that his draconic bloodline may be the key to the daggers awakening.

From his Eternal Bloodline, a hundred drops of shimmering, fury red blood were forcibly drawn out, the blood releasing heat into its surroundings as the one hundreds drops floated in the air. Each drop contained his life force, a concentrated essence of who he was, vibrating with pure energy. The pain was immense, like having his soul scraped raw, yet Jiang Feng didn't waver.

Then, the dagger's attention shifted to the dragon around his heart. The beast roared within him, its draconic essence responding to the call. A hundred drops of crimson-black blood were extracted, each drop seething with primordial chaos and unparalleled power. The process was agonizing, the dragon's resistance surging through him as it roared in defiance.

Jiang Feng trembled, his body covered in sweat, but he endured, his focus unshaken.

"Please let this work"

The blood from both bloodlines hovered in the air, forming two radiant orbs—one crimson red, one crimson-black. They swirled together, fusing into a singular sphere of energy that flowed directly into the dagger.

The weapon's runes flashed brighter than ever, and the weight pressing down on Jiang Feng lifted slightly. A low hum resonated through the room as the dagger's will began to bend, acknowledging him as its master. Jiang Feng was pale, his head hurt and his body aced.

-

After a moment of silence, the dagger spoke—not in words, but in intent. Jiang Feng felt it flow into his mind.

"I am the Celestial Dagger. My strength will rise with yours, and I will remain unbroken as long as your will endures."

With those words, the dagger's weight suddenly lightened. Jiang Feng reached out, lifting it effortlessly. It no longer resisted him; instead, it felt like an extension of his arm, as natural as breathing.

A faint smile formed on his lips as he admired the weapon. "Celestial Dagger, huh? Let's see what you can do."

Before he could inspect it further, the dagger vanished in a flash of light, leaving Jiang Feng's hand empty. He blinked, then closed his eyes, sensing its presence. The weapon had been absorbed into his body, now stored within his very soul, ready to be summoned at a moment's notice.

Jiang Feng exhaled slowly, his chest heaving. He was exhausted, but he also felt an undeniable surge of achievement. The Celestial Dagger had recognized him, and in doing so, it had further unlocked his potential.

-

He stood, steadying himself as his body recovered from the blood loss. Despite the draining process, his cultivation felt more refined, his Essence Lake steadier, and his confidence unshaken. He stared at the forging table, now empty, and clenched his fists.

"With this, I've taken another step forward. The Obsidian Waterfall Realm... I'll be ready."

Jiang Feng placed his hand on the forging table, taking it back into the spatial ring before he turned and left the training room, his eyes burning with resolve. Three days remained until the expedition, and he intended to use every moment to refine his strength. For now, the Celestial Dagger was his, but he knew that mastering its full power would be another battle entirely.

Jiang Feng took a deep breath, his mind steady as the Silent Reaper's mantra echoed in his thoughts. He descended the stairs, his hunger leading him to a hearty meal, spiked with a single Spiritual Burst Pill. Lin Moyi caught sight of this and simply smiled, shaking his head before resuming his meditation, leaving Jiang Feng to his peculiar habits.

By the sixth day, Jiang Feng stood in the courtyard, the Celestial Dagger resting in his palm in the dead of night. His eyes were shut, the Silent Reaper's cultivation method threading through his mind like a dark melody.

Daggers were foreign to him—tools of the unseen, wielded by assassins and killers who thrived in the shadows. Unlike swords or staffs, this weapon demanded precision, subtlety, and an understanding of the dagger itself.

"Step by step, listen, feel. Let your breath be as still as night, as silent as a shadow's breath, fleeting and unseen."

He moved slowly, each step deliberate and measured. His hand guided the dagger in a dance of stillness and control, the blade slicing through the air with a whisper of inevitability. In that moment, Jiang Feng felt the weight of the darkness settling around him, the teachings of the Silent Reaper beginning to take root.

"In the embrace of silence, power stirs. To walk the path of darkness, you must become the shadow and the scythe. Seek not the light; shun it, for it blinds you to the truth of the abyss. Listen to the stillness, where even whispers fear to tread, and you will find the door to endless night. Let the weight of the world drown you, for only in sinking can you rise. Strike not with fury, but with inevitability. Death is not an act—it is a certainty. Yield, and you shall wield."

As Jiang Feng poured over the ancient scroll, the cryptic words seemed to breathe with their own dark will, each line a shroud obscuring the truth within. He focused, shutting out the forge's heat and the distractions of life, sinking into the stillness that the scroll seemed to demand.

The key lay in understanding the nature of darkness—not as an opposing force to light, but as an infinite presence. Darkness was not about destruction or malice but inevitability, the unyielding force that even light could not outlast. It was an essence that could not be forged or controlled, only invited. To wield it, he had to become it.

The line "Let the weight of the world drown you, for only in sinking can you rise" resonated deeply. Jiang Feng realized it was a metaphor, instructing him to shed resistance, to embrace the oppressive nature of the abyss rather than fight against it. It was only by yielding to its grasp, feeling the overwhelming stillness of the void, that the power of darkness could take root within him.

In the silence, his breathing slowed, his heartbeats softened, and his presence seemed to dissolve into the surroundings. He felt his mind teeter on the edge of something vast and unfathomable, a realm where shadows carried secrets and silence held dominion.

It was then that he understood the next step—Darkness was a domain, a place not bound by sight or sound, but by the oppressive weight of darkness itself. To enter, he needed more than comprehension; he needed to let the abyss consume him without fear, allowing the Silent Reaper's power to guide his steps.