Same frequency
Consciousness lingered on the edge of drowsiness and lucidity, like the tide, ebbing and flowing. Yinglong lay on the cold black sand, abandoning all futile struggles and passively sensing the weak yet unwavering flow of energy emanating from the core within his sleeve.
This energy was no longer just a "stream" that sustained her vitality, but more like a "repair agent" with a clear direction. It carefully bypassed the nodes in her meridians that had become fragile due to overdraft, and precisely infiltrated the shocking cracks in her soul.
The core, serene, and condensing power of annihilation contained within the energy played a crucial role. It didn't forcibly close the cracks, but rather, like the most meticulous craftsman, soothed the traumatized soul in a manner almost reminiscent of "soothing" action, slowing the spread of the cracks and even... extremely slowly, promoting the healing of even the tiniest cracks.
The process was hopelessly slow, but for Yinglong, whose foundation was almost destroyed, this was undoubtedly a ray of light in the darkness.
Time has lost its meaning in this desolate stone forest.
I don’t know how long it took, maybe a day, maybe a year.
Yinglong felt the continuous energy feedback, and suddenly there was an extremely subtle change.
It no longer flowed evenly, but began to follow a... rhythm.
A low, slow pulsation, as if coming from the beginning of time when all things were silent.
This pulsation wasn't a sound, but a resonance that directly affected the very essence of her soul. Each time it resonated, the flow of healing energy surged slightly, like a tidal wave, washing away the wounds of her soul with a strange, soothing force.
This rhythm... comes from the core.
It seemed that it was no longer satisfied with simple absorption and feedback, but in this process, it began to unconsciously adjust the output of its own power to make it more in line with Yinglong's state, or in other words, more in line with... this strange symbiotic relationship between them.
As this rhythmic energy nourishment continued, Yinglong was surprised to find that the speed of his soul recovery had actually increased a little!
Although it is still slow, it is a world of difference compared to the previous state of near stagnation.
What shocked her even more was that, under the nourishment of this resonance, the already close connection between her and the core seemed to become even more...deeper.
She could no longer just sense its existence and state, but even began to vaguely grasp the two forces within it - the ignorant exploration of the newborn spirit, and the cold dormancy of the will to extinction - a dynamic, fragile balance and resonance achieved under this rhythm.
It seemed to be "learning" how to better "help" her in a way she couldn't understand.
This realization made Yinglong feel mixed emotions.
She looked at the gray sky, feeling the core in her palm pulsating with a strange rhythm, and an idea emerged uncontrollably:
If... if it could continue to grow like this, if its internal balance could be maintained and even become more stable... then, one day in the future, would it really be possible for it to completely repair her Dao injuries?
This idea is a bit absurd, yet full of indescribable temptation.
She was the Nine Heavens God of War, her foundation wounded. Ordinary elixirs, miraculous medicines, and the essence of heaven and earth were of no use. She needed supreme opportunity or the nurturing of despairingly long years. And yet, at this moment, this existence, fraught with uncertainty and created by her own hands, seemed to be offering her such a... unique "opportunity."
What is the cost?
She doesn't know.
She only knew that she seemed to be going further and further on this road of no return, and her bond with this core was getting deeper and deeper.
At this moment, the pulsating rhythm transmitted by the core suddenly showed an extremely subtle change in tone.
It was as if a small stone was thrown into the calm lake, causing ripples to spread out.
Then, a clear, complete thought emerged. It was no longer the vague emotions or simple words from before, but a clear inquiry. Through that deep connection, it appeared directly in her heart:
[Your injury...is caused by me?]
That thought, with its newborn-like immaturity and clumsiness, contained an unmistakable concern, as well as a deep-seated sense of guilt.
Yinglong's body suddenly stiffened.
She lay there in a daze, looking at the gray sky. For a moment, she didn't know how to respond.
Its intelligence...is growing so fast?
Already capable of such complex thought and such...human emotions?
Was it because it absorbed too many fragments of the laws of the Netherworld? Or was it because the confrontation with the existence of the abyss accelerated its transformation?
After a long while, she slowly transmitted a calm thought back through the connection:
[It's not your fault. It's my own choice.]
The Core was silent for a moment.
The rhythmic beating seemed to pause for a moment.
Then, a more complex and even stubborn thought came:
【But...it has something to do with me.】
【I will... help you.】
【Repair...you.】
Every word seemed to carry weight, striking Yinglong's heart.
She could feel that this intention was not an empty promise, but came from the purest will of the newborn spirit within it, and even... might be mixed with a trace of Ao Guang's origin, the deeply buried obsession of protection, expressed in a completely new way.
It is no longer just dependent on her and under her protection.
It began to clearly want to do something for her.
Want to... protect her.
The role change was quietly completed at this moment.
Yinglong closed his eyes, feeling the restored rhythm of repair, which was even more stable and powerful than before, and the faint tingling and relief from the cracks in his soul under the nourishment of that unique energy.
She didn't respond again.
He just lay there quietly, letting the rhythm that was both cold and full of vitality wrap around his broken soul and body.
The gray fog remains and the stone forest is silent.
In this corner forgotten by the world, a bond that goes beyond the original intention, distorts common sense, but is real, is taking root and sprouting in a strange and firm way.
Is the road ahead an abyss or the other side?
No one knows.
She only knew that the pulsation of her palm and the remnant of her heartbeat, in this dead silence, were gradually becoming... in sync.
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