The floating realm pulsed.
Not with light. Not with heat.
But with presence.
This wasn't a realm built with Qi or formed by a sect's legacy. It was carved out by Void itself—its space loose, bending subtly with each step Raizen took. Distance didn't behave properly here. One blink and a temple far off would suddenly be a few meters away.
He didn't bother questioning it anymore.
He walked straight ahead.
At the center of this scattered realm floated a ruined altar—a jagged stone platform hanging in space, surrounded by flickering void glyphs that kept shivering in and out of reality. Just beneath it, a dark pool of swirling energy reflected nothing.
Not the stars.
Not the altar.
Not even Raizen.
He leapt over the void gap and landed atop the altar without a sound.
It welcomed him like he'd always belonged here.
But the moment his foot touched the platform—
Everything froze.
The glyphs stopped flickering.
The floating temples paused mid-glide.
The wind stopped howling.
And something deep below the altar... opened its eyes.
Raizen turned slowly.
The void pool beneath him began to ripple, then bubble—slowly, deliberately.
Then a single claw rose from its surface.
Bone-white, jagged, pulsing with black veins of energy.
Another claw followed.
Then a skeletal beast emerged—its ribcage hollow and glowing, its eyes like twin eclipses. Two massive wings stretched out behind it, tearing holes in the air as they unfurled. It let out no roar. Just a low hum that made Raizen's bones vibrate.
He didn't move.
Not out of fear.
But because he could feel it—
This creature didn't just sense void energy.
It fed on it.
And it was starving.
Raizen exhaled, calmly stepping backward off the center of the altar. The moment his foot left the middle, the glyphs reignited, and the pool stopped rippling.
The beast froze mid-step.
Its head tilted.
It didn't charge.
It studied him.
Raizen narrowed his eyes.
"It's bound."
Not by chains, but by intent.
The beast was not wild.
It had a purpose.
A memory flashed in his mind—the words he saw etched in the abyss:
"You can kill me, but not my mark."
The creature wasn't just a guardian.
It was the final test.
If Raizen stepped back into the altar's center, it would attack without hesitation. But not with mindless rage. With judgment.
"So this is how the Void Monarchs tested successors."
He glanced at the swirling pool again.
The beast's hollow ribcage flickered faintly—like there was something buried within.
A crystal?
A core?
A fragment of inheritance?
Raizen looked around the silent realm.
"Everything's been quiet until now. That thing…" he muttered, "it's holding more than power."
"It's holding answers."
He stepped forward again.
The moment his foot touched the glyph at the center of the altar, the beast lunged.
No delay.
No warning.
A claw swept sideways with enough force to flatten mountains.
Raizen's body flickered, dodging just barely.
He didn't fly.
He bent space behind him, reappearing above the beast's skull, gathering condensed void energy into his palm.
"Let's see how you react to yourself."
He slammed his fist down.
The moment the void energy touched the creature's head, it snarled—not in pain, but hunger.
It absorbed the blow.
The energy vanished.
Raizen blinked.
"Of course you would."
This wasn't a beast that could be overpowered.
It was a creature that had adapted perfectly to devour void.
Meaning the more he used his real strength, the stronger it would become.
So he didn't.
He stopped using the void entirely.
Raizen landed calmly, lifting only a carved blade he'd taken from an earlier tomb. Pure steel. No energy. No enhancements.
The beast charged again, faster this time.
Raizen dodged under its ribs, slid along the edge of the altar, and waited.
As the claw came again, he ducked and cut across the joint of the beast's leg.
No void.
Just precision.
The limb buckled slightly.
It felt the difference.
It was used to power—explosions, divine light, overwhelming force.
But Raizen didn't give it that.
He gave it control. Clean, measured strikes.
"You eat void energy."
"Then I won't feed you."
The fight dragged on.
No flashy attacks.
Just flickers of movement, perfectly timed dodges, and surgical strikes to weak points.
Eventually, the beast collapsed, its body still twitching.
It couldn't understand what had just happened.
Raizen stood over it, sweat on his brow, blade chipped.
But victorious.
The creature stared at him with dimming eyes, then slowly lowered its head.
Not dead.
Acknowledging.
Then it dissolved—bones, wings, energy—all collapsing inward and vanishing into the altar, leaving behind a single glowing crystal.
Raizen reached for it.
A voice echoed softly in his mind—not a projection, not a memory.
A will.
"You were not chosen because you are strong."
"You were chosen because you understand restraint."
The crystal floated into his chest.
A seal formed on his back—faint, unreadable, invisible to others
But ancient.
The Mark of the Void Heir.