Purgatory Sulfur Plane, core laboratory.
Benjamin sat before an enormous workbench, his fingers unconsciously tapping against the tabletop.
The projection page spread out before him was densely packed with records concerning the Dao-Integration Realm.
Dao-Integration.
Those two words represented countless Legends in the Cultivation World—and countless tragedies as well.
So-called Dao-Integration meant merging oneself with the laws of heaven and earth, bringing the very essence of a cultivator's existence into resonant harmony with the operating principles of the world.
Once successful, a cultivator no longer merely "borrowed" the power of laws, but "became" a part of them.
With every gesture, the will of heaven followed; every word and deed accorded with the rhythm of the Great Dao.
Most importantly, cultivators in this state no longer needed to rely on comprehension to understand the Great Dao. They turned it into instinct.
But the problem was that fusion went both ways.
While cultivators fused with the laws, the laws were also fusing with them.
If a cultivator's will was not firm enough and their Dao heart not stable enough, they would be assimilated by the laws, lose their self-awareness, and become a force of rules between heaven and earth with no autonomy whatsoever.
This was Dao Assimilation.
Benjamin recalled the records in the Great Dao Library concerning the risks of Dao Assimilation, and his brow furrowed tighter and tighter.
Those failed cases were horrifying to behold.
Most cultivators vanished abruptly during Dao-Integration, as though they had never existed at all.
They became manifestations of some natural phenomenon, repeating the same pattern day after day.
"Even though the Void Refinement Realm changes one's life form, the risk of Dao Assimilation is still extremely high." Benjamin stroked his chin.
"Even if a Void Refinement cultivator changes their form of life, the risk of Dao