Chapter 3: Perfection in an Instant
The moment he confirmed, the world vanished. If the first healing had been a warm furnace, this was being thrown into the heart of a star.
An unimaginable force seized his body, deconstructing it on a cellular level. He felt his bones turn to dust, his muscles unravel into threads, and his organs dissolve into a soupy mess.
It was the feeling of dying all over again, but this time, he was wide awake for it. He couldn’t even scream as his lungs no longer existed.
Then came the reconstruction.
Wisps of dark, silent energy—void energy—flowed from the system, weaving into his essence. They were the threads that stitched him back together.
His bones were not just reformed; they were forged, imbued with a dark, unbreakable lustre. His muscles were woven with fibres of pure strength.
His organs were remade, each one a perfect, humming engine of vitality.
The process felt like an eternity, but it was over in less than a minute.
Rhys gasped, falling to his hands and knees on the forest floor, his body drenched in a sweat that wasn’t sweat, but a black, foul-smelling impurity that had been expelled from his brand-new body.
He took a deep, shuddering breath. The air that entered his lungs felt different, cleaner.
He could feel the spiritual energy in the forest not just on his skin, but inside him, his body naturally drawing it in like a gentle whirlpool.
He stood up, feeling the difference. The previous strength was like wearing a suit of high-quality armour.