Bound by Darkness: Mastering the Immortal System

5

Yellow Grade, Rank D? The Ancient Pagoda Visualization?

A profound sense of wonder erupted in Sebastian's heart, though it was immediately shadowed by a veil of deep mystery. He found himself questioning the very essence of this reality. Was this truly the world of Eternal Hell he remembered from his previous life? In that digital realm, players adhered to a rigid numerical progression that ended at level sixty. He had never encountered a skill like the Ancient Pagoda Visualization, nor had he seen classifications like Yellow Grade. These were anomalies, shifting the very foundation of his understanding.

Shaking these thoughts away, Sebastian refused to let himself be paralyzed by speculation. With a focused mental command, he directed his last remaining attribute point into the newly revealed skill. A sensation akin to a lifetime of silent meditation washed over him, bringing a fleeting moment of serenity to his soul. Yet, there was no immediate physical transformation. He understood the rhythm of this power now; he would have to wait for the sanctuary of night. Ellen would have to lend him her vitality once more to fuel his evolution.

Sebastian stood up from the porch, his hand instinctively finding the grip of his hardwood cane. As he began to pace the small courtyard, the rhythmic tapping against the frozen ground sent ripples through his ink-black consciousness. To his heightened senses, each strike was like a pulse of white light momentarily illuminating a dark room. It acted as a constant refresh of his mental map, replacing fading memories with sharp, high-contrast sketches of the world around him. He settled beneath the eaves of the roof, picked up the heavy axe, and began the arduous task of splitting firewood.

An hour of labor yielded six large, clean logs, but it left Sebastian gasping for air. His physical frailty was a constant reminder of his limitations; his spirit was a giant trapped in a glass cage. He rested until his heart stopped pounding, then moved to the laundry basin. The melting snow had turned into a steady trickle from the roof, saving him the labor of hauling water. Using the natural soap berries Ellen had harvested in the autumn, he began to scrub their few garments.

Ellen usually handled the heavy lifting, leaving the lighter tasks for him as a way to preserve his dignity. As his hands moved through the cold suds, his fingers brushed against a piece of smooth, sliding silk. His heart gave a sudden, involuntary jump. It was Ellen's personal silk wrap—an item so intimate he had never even been permitted to touch it before. Now, it sat in his basin, a silent testament to the fact that she no longer kept anything from him. They had surrendered every secret to one another.

When night finally reclaimed the village, the air turned brittle with cold. Their newly dried blankets still carried the sharp, clean scent of the winter frost, but within the heavy layers, the two of them moved in a slow, synchronized rhythm. In the absolute darkness of the room, Ellen's form appeared with startling clarity in Sebastian's mind's eye. Though she was a silhouette of pale lines in his vision, the living warmth of her skin and the soft, melodic sighs she let out painted his monochrome world with the first strokes of true color.

After a long, breathless time, the woman who was known as a fierce tigress to the villagers collapsed into the blind man's arms, her strength spent. she traced a lingering finger across his damp forehead, letting out a tired, happy laugh. "You truly have a way of cherishing your wife, Sebastian. Where did a quiet man like you learn such things?"

Sebastian was still struggling to catch his breath; his physical endurance was a cruel joke compared to his inner will. Ellen seemed to sense the tremors in his muscles and pulled him closer, her voice dropping to a tender whisper. "Next time, don't push yourself so hard for my sake. I'm happy just being near you."

"I won't break that easily," Sebastian replied, his voice quiet but firm.

Ellen let out a bright, genuine laugh that echoed softly in the small room. "Stubborn as a mule, even when you can barely move."

They lay together in the silence of the night until Sebastian asked if the village had seen any change. Ellen's tone shifted, growing serious. She explained that while the paths were clearing, the expected grain merchants were nowhere to be found. The whispers among the neighbors suggested that a band of ruthless bandits had intercepted the trade caravans on the main highway.

Sebastian felt his entire body turn to stone at the mention of bandits. If those scavengers descended upon Riverside and targeted the Healing Apothecary, neither he nor Ellen possessed the strength to repel them. In this chaotic era, mercy was a luxury no one could afford. Death would be his only mercy; for Ellen, the nightmare would be far worse.

Sensing his sudden rigidity, Ellen squeezed his hand tightly. "Rest easy. The village men are already gathering with their scythes and pitchforks. The mayor is staying awake at night, organizing watches. Every family is chipping in a bit of grain to keep the guards fed." She added with a playful, protective edge, "And if they do show up at our door, I'll just grab my sickle and stand in their way myself."

Sebastian smiled, moved by her fierce loyalty, and felt the heat of her flushed cheek against his shoulder. She gave him a small, affectionate swat. "A woman who can stand her ground and protect her home is far more useful than one who only knows how to weep, wouldn't you agree?"

By the time the first light of dawn touched the frost on the windows, a new string of information flickered across Sebastian's consciousness.

[You spent a truly happy night with Ellen. Obtained 6 attribute points.]

A "happy" night? Sebastian realized the system could perceive the depth of their emotional and physical connection. Without a moment's delay, he funneled all six points into the Ancient Pagoda Visualization. The progress bar surged, skipping the initiation phase entirely and vaulting him into the rank of an Accomplished practitioner.

A mystical, overwhelming sensation flooded his mind, as if decades of hidden wisdom were being carved directly into his soul. In the center of his inner void, a magnificent structure began to rise—a pagoda nine stories high, an exact, shimmering replica of the ancient tower he had seen just moments before his soul was cast into this world.

In his mind, he began to climb. Each floor he ascended required a greater level of mental discipline, and with every step, the mundane noise of the world faded into a distant hum. By the time he reached the summit of the ninth floor, he achieved a state of complete, terrifying transcendence. His physical body felt as though it had dissolved into nothingness, leaving only a concentrated orb of pure consciousness at the top of the world.

He leaned out from the high balcony to look upon the earth. During the hours of daylight, he saw nothing but a raging, infinite ocean of white-hot fire—a hellish landscape where the air itself burned like molten lead. He knew instinctively that to leave the tower during the day would mean his immediate soul-shredding destruction.

But as the sun set in his visualization, the flames were snuffed out. The blurry, ink-smudged world he had lived in for so long suddenly sharpened into high-definition reality. For the first time since his arrival, color flooded his world. The roof tiles were a deep, obsidian black; the walls were a stark, textured white; the soil beneath the trees was a rich, ochre yellow. Even the evergreens in the distance sparkled with a vibrant, emerald hue. Under the silver glow of the moon, the mountains and rivers were no longer mere echoes of sound—they were masterpieces of light and shadow.

In a moment of pure, reckless liberation, Sebastian leaped from the top of the pagoda. A sensation of flight and weightlessness took hold of him, a feeling of total freedom from the gravity of his broken body. He looked back and saw his physical form sitting cross-legged on the bed. It was a handsome face, but it looked like a hollow shell, its head lolling to the side and its hands limp, appearing for all the world as if he had just died.

Suddenly, a violent, piercing cold struck him, sharper than any winter wind. It was the chill of the void, threatening to freeze his very soul. He instinctively dove back into his physical shell, feeling as if he had plunged from a frozen river back onto a warm hearth. But even then, the hearth was fading. His physical body was too weak, providing almost no warmth or energy to sustain such a powerful spirit.

It took a long time for the world to stop spinning. By leaping from the pagoda, he had mastered the second stage of the visualization, but at a great cost. Sebastian opened his eyes, the truth hitting him like a physical blow. The Ancient Pagoda Visualization was a high-level technique, far too advanced for a man with a strength rating of nearly zero. He was trying to channel the power of a god through the vessel of a beggar.

Sebastian clenched his trembling fist under the covers. 'A foundation,' he whispered to the darkness. 'I need a physical cultivation technique. I need to

make this vessel strong enough to hold the light.'