Kyrian needed something capable of nourishing his entire body. Something capable of strengthening his muscles, making them faster, stronger, more resilient.
His bones, harder, denser. His flesh, more alive, more regenerative. His blood, purer, more powerful.
Something capable of accompanying him to the higher realms.
Then, he began to work.
The first attempt was simple. Direct and brutal.
He tried to force the connection.
He used his will to push the Qi of the Mirrored Third Eye directly into the meridians, a straightforward approach, without subtlety, without care.
The result came immediately.
Pain.
A sharp pain shot through his forehead, as if something were being torn from the inside, as if his own tissues were refusing to cooperate.
The meridians rejected the energy.
It was like trying to fit together two incompatible pieces, like putting the wrong key into a lock, like forcing open a door that did not want to open.
