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The Lonely Wanderer
Chapter 22 - How Much Can I Endure?

Chapter 22 - How Much Can I Endure?

His body convulsed uncontrollably as his muscles twitched and jerked with violent intensity, moving as though they no longer obeyed his will. Every breath he drew felt like inhaling shards of glass that tore through his lungs, igniting a fresh wave of searing pain with each desperate gasp for air.

Yu Xuan instinctively reached out, searching for something—anything—to ground himself. But there was nothing. No anchor, no comfort, only the crushing reality of pain. It consumed everything. It fractured his thoughts, filling every corner of his mind, invading every fiber of his being.

Yu Xuan’s thoughts, now barely coherent, flickered like dying embers in the vast ocean of torment. Why? Why had he chosen this path? Was this really what he sought? Was this the price of his dream? The pain, the agony, the relentless assault—it was too much. His mind screamed for respite, for release from the constant onslaught, but none came.

And yet, in the deepest recesses of his soul, something stirred. It wasn’t pity for himself, nor was it a wish for the suffering to end. It was a deep, consuming desire to continue—to push through it all, no matter the cost.

This was the price.

Yu Xuan’s breath shuddered, his body still trembling, as he clung to that thought, his only anchor in a sea of darkness. Pain was the trial. And he would endure it. There was no other choice. The very thought of surrendering, of allowing the pain to break him, was more unbearable than the agony itself.

No matter how much it hurt. No matter how much he suffered. He would endure.

Suddenly, the torment escalated. His eyeballs burst in their sockets, leaving hollow caverns that wept crimson tears. His tongue was severed, filling his mouth with the coppery tang of blood. His ears were torn away, leaving only the ringing silence of agony. Again and again, his body was ravaged, only to regenerate moments later. The cycle repeated endlessly—his flesh restored only to be destroyed anew.

Yu Xuan’s body twisted on the ground, reduced to his upper torso as he dragged himself forward with trembling arms. His shattered form should have been lifeless, but he remained.

He did not scream, even as his body screamed for him. There was no voice left to give sound to the suffering, no teeth to grit against the pain—only the iron will of a man who refused to falter.

Still, he crawled. Blood smeared the ground beneath him, leaving a trail of crimson that spoke of unspeakable torment. His heart slowed as if surrendering to the void, but in the depths of his despair, a faint smile touched his lips.

"This... is nothing," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "The Dao is greater. My pursuit is greater. Let this flesh perish if it must. My will is eternal. My resolve..... unbroken."

If anyone had witnessed this scene they would have been overcome with horror and revulsion. It was the embodiment of a nightmare. His face was twisted into a grotesque mask of agony that bore no semblance of humanity. His gums were raw and exposed where his teeth had once been and they glistened with blood. His empty eye sockets wept crimson streaks while the stumps of his ears oozed with fresh wounds. His hair was torn out in ragged clumps that left his scalp a patchwork of raw flesh.

The figure before them was unsightly and a grotesque mockery of what once might have been human. Yet even in such a wretched and broken state his lips curled into a smile that was a defiant expression seeming to mock the very depths of his suffering.

The scene was like a vision from Hell itself. One could only wonder—what horrors had this man committed in life to deserve such punishment? Or perhaps, what unshakable dream had driven him to endure it?

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Slowly, the surroundings shifted, and Yu Xuan's body began to regenerate. His flesh and bones reformed seamlessly, as if nothing had happened. To an observer, he appeared unscathed, but only Yu Xuan knew the profound awareness this trial had brought him.

He had once believed himself capable of enduring any suffering, convinced that his willpower was unshakable. But this trial had stripped away that naive confidence, revealing the depths of his ignorance. Words alone could never truly encompass the weight of pain; only through enduring it firsthand could one grasp its raw, harrowing truth.

Yet, was Yu Xuan broken by this realization? Absolutely not. If anything, the trial had ignited an even fiercer resolve within him. His dream felt closer than ever, burning brightly against the backdrop of his newfound understanding.

The trials pressed on relentlessly. The fourth was a trial of illusion.

Yu Xuan found himself in a world where he was revered as a powerful and wise leader, his every word held in awe and respect. Crowds cheered his name, and his wisdom guided nations. The illusion painted a life of grandeur, filled with admiration and warmth he had never known before. For a moment, he felt the intoxicating pull of fulfillment, the sensation of finally having everything.

But Yu Xuan was no ordinary soul. He saw through the shimmering veneer. This was not the life he sought, not the path he had chosen. With an unyielding will, he shattered the illusion.

And so, the trials continued, each one testing his heart, his resolve, and his understanding of himself. With every step, he grew stronger and determined than his previous self.

At last, only the final trial remained. As Yu Xuan arrived at the last trial, the world around him turned dark, not with the oppressive blackness of night but with a muted gray void that stretched endlessly in all directions.

There was no sound, no wind, no scent—only emptiness.

At first, Yu Xuan remained composed. He had endured trials that tested his resolve, his desires, and his physical limits. This, he thought, was no different. But as the moments stretched into what felt like an eternity, he realized how wrong he was. There were no illusions to fight, no pain to endure, no temptations to resist. There was only himself, standing alone in a boundless void.

Time lost meaning. Seconds blurred into minutes, minutes into hours, hours into days—or so it seemed. Yu Xuan walked forward, but there was no destination.

The silence pressed against his ears like a suffocating force, making his own breathing sound deafeningly loud. His steps felt heavier with every passing moment, as if the emptiness itself sought to drag him down.

"Is this it? Is this the ultimate test? To confront... nothing?"

Yu Xuan walked forward without pause, each step echoing in the boundless void. Time felt meaningless, as if an eternity had slipped by unnoticed. His feet ached, his mind grew weary, but he pressed on, driven by the faint hope of finding an end to this endless trial.

Finally, in the distance, he saw it—a lake. Its surface was still and calm, but it wasn’t filled with water. The liquid shimmered a deep red, thick and viscous, like blood. Yu Xuan paused at the edge, peering into its depths. The reflection staring back at him was distorted, warped by the crimson fluid.

At first, he assumed it was blood, the sight unsettling yet strangely mesmerizing. But curiosity pushed him further. He knelt down, dipped a finger into the liquid, and brought it to his lips. It wasn’t blood. It was something else entirely—its taste unfamiliar, neither sweet nor bitter, a flavor that defied description.

Without hesitation, Yu Xuan stepped into the lake, the red substance lapping against his legs. It was warm, almost soothing. He moved deeper until the lake embraced him entirely. With a single motion, he let himself float, his body surrendering to the strange liquid.

He drifted on the surface, his face turned upward toward the sky. The sky wasn’t blue; it was a muted gray, heavy and oppressive, as though burdened by untold sorrows. The color reminded him of ash, of emptiness, of the void.

Yu Xuan stared at it for what felt like hours, his thoughts quiet but not at peace. The stillness of the lake mirrored the stillness within him, yet beneath that calm lay a storm of emotions. Was this the end? Was there more to endure?

He closed his eyes, letting the weight of everything settle over him like a shroud. His body floated, but his mind sank deeper into reflection.

When he finally opened his eyes, the world around him began to shatter. Cracks formed in the sky, spreading like fractured glass. The grayness splintered, pieces of the scene falling away into nothingness. The lake beneath him rippled violently, its red surface bubbling and dissipating into vapor.

Yu Xuan remained still, watching as his surroundings dissolved into fragments, leaving behind only a blank, endless void. But this time, he felt no fear. The emptiness was no longer his enemy; it was a part of him now.

With a final, resounding crack, the world shattered completely.

Yu Xuan reappeared on the surface of the Emerald Reflection Terrace. As he opened his eyes, he noticed the number of participants had dwindled—nearly 15% were missing. Now, only a fraction of the competitors remained on the altar.

He wasn’t surprised to find that he hadn’t emerged as the first to complete the Soul Reflection Trial. After all, he hadn’t defended his mind or resisted the illusions. Instead, he had chosen to lay his consciousness bare, allowing the visions to delve deep into his thoughts and emotions. While others might have safeguarded themselves, Yu Xuan had embraced the torment, fully immersing himself in the trials' purpose.

But Yu Xuan wasn’t here to compete against others. His only rival was himself, the weaker version of who he had been. And in that regard, he had achieved success. These trials had pushed him beyond his limits, forcing him to endure, grow, and transform. It felt as if he had been reborn seven times.

His spirit’s willpower had grown immensely. If his strength of will before could be measured as a mere one, it now surged to an eight—a staggering eightfold increase.

Following the supervisor’s instructions, Yu Xuan stepped off the altar and made his way to the resting area. The second trial had ended, but the final trial still loomed ahead. He sat down in quiet meditation, focusing on absorbing and understanding the profound insights he had gained during the trials.

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