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I cultivate the soul of an immortal to rule the world !

DaoistKSL82I
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Synopsis
In a world where talent decides fate, one boy awakens with nothing but a broken soul. Abandoned by the heavens yet unwilling to kneel, he forges a path that no sect, no clan, no god has ever dared to tread—cultivating not his body, nor his spirit, but his very soul. Haunted by debts, hunted by enemies, and guided only by a will sharper than any blade, he must carve his place in a world where immortality is both promise and curse. His oath is simple: If destiny denies me, I will defy destiny itself. --- This story was written by human hand (so me) but the translation is by AI (I'm French) it also took care of the visual rendering of the book image!
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Chapter 1 - The Maw of the Cave / 1

Footsteps behind me. Sliding on the moss. I press myself against the stone. My palm burns: the Soul Mark pulses, a serpent in my flesh.

— Hand it over.

A rough voice. I see only a shadow in the mist. I swallow hard. My throat scrapes.

— I don't even know what it is.

— Liar. You felt the whisper, didn't you? We all feel it. The Mark calls. It wants me more than you.

Another figure appears, masked, breathless.

— Kill him fast. Before it sprouts.

The Mark vibrates, worming into my thoughts. Images I can't understand: a circle, blood, clasped hands. My temple pounds. Fear rises.

— I… I'll give it back! Take it, just let me go.

A dry laugh.

— Too late to beg.

A knife gleams. I stumble back, hit a rock. The Mark hisses inside me, hungry.

Run. Hide me. Feed me or I'll devour you.

My hand closes on the damp stone. A chill sweeps through me. I throw the rock blindly. It ricochets. I sprint into the darkness. Behind me, they chase.

— Stop him!

Metal clatters. I dive flat. The knife slices the air just above me.

— You won't get out alive, kid! You know what it does to the weak?

I crawl, mouth full of earth. A pulse echoes in my skull, a dull rhythm, the heartbeat of something not mine.

— It'll eat him from the inside, don't worry. We'll pick up the scraps.

The light fades. I slip into a crevice. The air grows heavy, thick with dust. My fingers brush a warm wall, pulsing.

Deeper. Further. Where they won't follow.

I push on, choking on fear. The hunters linger at the entrance.

— He's done for. This cave… no one comes out.

Their voices vanish. I stagger forward, guided by a damp, hot breath. The Mark purrs, both alien and intimate.

One step, two. My legs buckle. The ground gives way. I slide, nails screeching on living rock.

I fall into a round chamber, a stone belly. It breathes. Warm breath grazes my neck.

— What is this…?

An echo. Not mine.

Rest. Open yourself. Blend with me…

The wall closes, viscous. I want to scream, but the air thickens to honey, slow and heavy. My eyelids fall shut.

A final murmur, under my skin:

Twenty years or an instant. Let yourself sink…

All fades, except the dense rhythm of the cave's heart.