As the lion fell dead, Dante was about to collapse. He was exhausted and completely worn out. Yet, something happened that stopped him.
The sky tore apart; golden clouds began to form, and a colossal eye appeared among them, staring deeply into Dante.
From the golden clouds, a small tuft descended, swirling until it landed on his back.
His back began to burn for a few seconds before the pain faded. Dante then noticed lightning-like markings crawling down his arm from behind.
When he looked again at the eye, it had vanished, taking the golden clouds with it. This interaction went unnoticed by anyone else — for the Celestial Dao would not allow it.
Still somewhat dazed, Dante realized that his wounds had been healed — and the lightning marks on his arms remained.
Shiii.
Lost in thought, he was suddenly pulled back to reality when the small serpent began hissing at a lion cub.
The little one looked ordinary, yet it was much larger than expected and bore two small golden fangs.
"Does he really have the courage to attack me?" Dante thought, watching the future king of the forest charge at him.
Baam!
Dante was not the patient or merciful type. With a single strike to the head, the cub staggered before collapsing unconscious.
He hadn't meant to hurt it — after all, the little one was part of his spoils.
Once the cub fell, Dante took out a small cord and opened it, making the creature disappear. It was a beast space, borrowed from Viviane.
His next action was to look at the massive fallen lion. It was enormous, but leaving it there wasn't an option.
Dante approached, slipped his arms beneath its mane, and lifted it.
The colossal weight made the ground beneath his feet crack, yet he began to walk toward the interior of the den, the beast slung over his shoulders.
His steps grew heavy, his breathing muffled — but still, Dante pressed on.
Chiii.
Upon entering the den and dropping the lion, a rough breath escaped his lips, expressing both fatigue and relief.
Even after only a few steps, his breathing was ragged, and sweat drenched his body.
He gazed at the lion for a few seconds before venturing deeper into the small cavern.
Inside was something he desired — something Tyler had said was perfect for him: the Accumulated Blood Gourd.
A spiritual fruit capable of strengthening the body, densifying blood, bones, and muscles, and improving the flow of meridians.
Dante walked a few meters deeper until he found a small tree at the inner part of the den.
The tree looked dead, completely dry; it had no more than twenty branches, and on each one hung a gourd the size of a hand — red and faintly pulsating.
At the tree's roots rested a strange lotus — also red, with six vivid, glowing petals.
Dante approached curiously, observing the tree with a faint smile.
The Accumulated Blood Gourd would elevate his strength to an entirely new level.
Tick.
A quick thought crossed his mind. He decided to store the lotus in his dimensional pouch and ask about it later.
However, the instant his fingers touched the flower, the blood on his hand made contact with it.
The lotus shone brilliantly and, in a flash, darted toward Dante's chest — disappearing before his eyes.
— What? What just happened? — he thought, alarmed.
The lotus had simply vanished. It seemed to have entered his body, yet he felt nothing different.
Dante tried sensing his meridians, searching for any trace of the flower, but found nothing.
Though incomplete, his meridians already spanned his entire body.
Huff...
A sigh of relief escaped him. It was good that nothing abnormal seemed to be inside him.
Trying to forget the strange incident, Dante grabbed an Accumulated Blood Gourd and devoured it in two bites.
The juice of the fruit slid down his throat, spreading through his body. The blood energy began to refine rapidly — and without Dante knowing, the lotus within him doubled both the refinement speed and the absorption rate.
He continued eating the fruits.
The first six were refined easily. His body soon felt the difference — his strength increased by roughly forty percent, his muscles became denser and more toned, and he even seemed one or two centimeters taller.
However, starting with the seventh, Dante's body began to burn.
At first, the sensation was tolerable — but it quickly became unbearable.
The eighth and ninth gourds took three times longer to refine, and the absorption rate dropped by half.
The tenth became a barrier: an excruciating pain tore through his body, small cracks forming on his skin as the process grew slower and slower.
The eleventh and twelfth were nearly impossible to endure.
His skin was at its limit, his meridians screamed as if about to tear apart, and his hair took on a faint white hue — perhaps from pain or sheer stress.
But nothing compared to the thirteenth.
An overwhelming agony coursed through every inch of his body. It took ten full minutes of torment to refine the fruit — and he likely absorbed no more than ten percent of its energy.
When the process finally ended, cracks opened across his skin, and from his fingertips dripped blood tinged with gold.
That was the first step.
One of the three requirements for the Triple Foundation.
A foundational concept.