Void Cultivation-Chapter 183- The Foundation Establishment Realm (11)
All the shadow perceived in that final moment was a single, purple sword-slash carving through existence. It was not merely a strike, it was like a decree. A line of light so sharp it seemed capable of splitting the earth’s crust and ripping open the heavens themselves. Within that slash was a suppressive force belonging only to true Spirit Core Formation experts, the weight of a world pressing down. Yet Grey felt none of that pressure. How could he? He was the one delivering judgement.
Even so, a faint tremor ran through his heart. The power he had unleashed was beyond anything he had ever touched before. But on his face? Nothing. Not a flicker. His gaze remained calm, unreadable, as if the destruction he was about to cause had already been predetermined.
When the slash finally reached the shadow, its branches shuddered wildly, vibrating like a beast cornered by a predator it could no longer hope to resist. Then... a world of purple consumed its vision. No sound, no breath, only annihilation. The next sensation it felt was pain, deep and primal.
But it wasn’t physical pain. This agony speared directly into its soul.
The shadow had never truly possessed a physical body. Even after gaining form, it was still fundamentally a creature of darkness, born from malice and fragments. The only way to truly hurt it was to tear at the soul itself, and that was exactly what Grey’s slash did.
After gaining life, the shadow had devoured portions of Grey’s memories. Hidden within those memories was a trace, a thread, of Grey’s soul. That was why this sword-slash was so terrifying. It wasn’t simply cutting it. It was erasing it. To the shadow, that purple arc felt like a force capable of obliterating its entire existence.
A deafening boom tore across the land as the shadow tree’s enormous body was shredded apart. The blast scattered ink-black fragments across the ground. Yet if one looked closely, buried among the debris was a tiny, quivering fragment, a miniature version of the shadow tree, desperately trying to blend into the soil.
Its single eye, once filled with hatred and cold hunger, now brimmed with one emotion alone... pure, suffocating fear.
It wanted to escape, to vanish before Grey sensed it. But just as it wriggled deeper into the ground, a gust of wind brushed past, and Grey appeared beside it, silent as a phantom. His brows were drawn together, his expression calm but complicated. There was no joy in his gaze, no triumph. Only heaviness.
The tiny shadow froze, then doubled its efforts, drilling frantically into the earth.
Too late.
Grey crouched, extended his hand, and gently pressed a single finger against its trembling body. His voice was soft, almost reluctant.
"Suppress."
Purple light surged from his fingertip like a divine command. The miniature shadow tree convulsed violently, a shrill, soul-piercing cry ripping from its core. Fear flooded its lone eye, but beneath that fear, something else flickered in it’s eyes. Hatred... deep, festering hatred.
Grey’s eyes narrowed. For a brief moment, a glint, sharp and decisive, flashed within them.
Again, he spoke.
"Suppress."
This time, the word carried finality.
And the world seemed to tremble.
The shadow tree convulsed violently, its branches cracking apart like brittle glass. Each fallen fragment hit the ground only to dissolve instantly into drifting wisps of darkness. The entire form was collapsing, trembling as though one more breath of wind could scatter it completely. Grey watched this unraveling with a cold, razor-sharp glint in his eyes.
"Suppress. Suppress. Suppress. Suppress. Suppress."
With every repetition, a pulse of purple power exploded from his fingertip. Each blast struck the shadow tree, and each impact triggered another shudder so intense its form warped, dimmed, and bled away into the air. Branch after branch crumbled, its body thinning until it looked less like a tree and more like smoke trying desperately to remain whole.
By the time Grey uttered the final Suppress, the enormous tree was gone. Only a single, fragile wisp of darkness floated in the air. Slowly, it drifted toward Grey, and as it neared him, its shape sharpened, forming the tiny silhouette of a boy.
A boy that looked exactly like Grey.
Its hair was pitch-black, its eyes abyssal, and its body faint as fog. Like a shadow trying to mimic its creator.
The tiny figure lifted its gaze and met Grey’s indifferent stare. A bitter, defeated smile curled onto its translucent face. It hesitated, as though unsure whether it deserved to speak at all, then lowered its head in a respectful bow.
Grey responded with only one word.
"Suppress."
Surprise flickered across the miniature Grey’s features, shock mixed with disbelief, but he didn’t get time to react. Purple light surged forward, slamming into the wisp. The suppressive force was overwhelming, crushing, suffocating. The shadow-child convulsed violently as cracks spread through its body, and then it exploded into drifting crumbs of darkness.
Grey stood still. Silent. His expression unchanging.
The span of ten breaths passed.
Then, without shifting his gaze, he spoke coldly:
"I know you’re still alive. Come out."
Everything fell silent. Even the wind seemed to stop.
A heartbeat later, a faint wisp shot out from beneath the ground and floated shakily in front of him. It was the shadow again , smaller, weaker, but undeniably alive. Its expression overflowed with doubt, fear, and a strange disbelief at Grey’s insight.
Grey asked, tone flat and unbothered, "Will you be loyal to me!"
The shadow hesitated. A pause. A flicker of uncertainty.
Grey didn’t wait.
He uttered a single word.
The shadow shrieked silently as its form twisted, breaking apart again, drifting apart like ashes scattered by a storm. It looked moments away from true death, real, irreversible dissolution, as its body crumbled into the wind.
But this time, Grey didn’t even wait three breaths. His voice snapped out, cold and precise:
"If you’re not here in two breaths..."
He didn’t even finish.
Instantly, almost violently, the shadow wisp reformed and shot toward him, trembling uncontrollably. Fear saturated its tiny face to the core. It didn’t even wait for a command. It bowed so fast it nearly lost its form, nodding over and over again like its life depended on it.
Grey said nothing.
He simply reached out, grabbed the wisp, and pressed it into his chest.
The shadow dissolved into his body.
A moment later, Grey’s own shadow, which had vanished long ago, slowly reappeared behind him. But its eyes, its expression... weren’t truly his. The shadow stared back at Grey with a look thick with conflict and unspoken emotion.
Grey didn’t acknowledge it.
He didn’t speak.
He just stood there, silent, as the world regained its breath.
