Thousand Illusionary Sect, Upper Area, WindCoil Peak,
Meanwhile, far from the bustling sect meeting hall, bathed in the scorching rays of the sun, lay a place nestled high atop a cliff.
Embraced by the relentless gusts of wind, only cultivators of Nascent Soul Realm and above were granted access to this sacred sanctuary.
The area itself was a small, square platform, perched precariously on the edge, accommodating no more than four individuals.
From this vantage point, the view stretched out before them, seemingly reaching the heavens. Behind the platform, a series of stairs emerged, leading through a dense forest to this elevated retreat.
Within the realm of the Thousand Illusionary Sect, this place held special significance. It was primarily reserved for the Patriarch, the esteemed ancestors, or those seeking to refine their Wind spiritual roots.
As the name suggested, the Thousand Illusionary Sect specialized in techniques that emphasized speed and a deep connection with the element of wind.
And yet, standing there now, defying convention, was Xia Wei. His gaze fixated upon the enchanting sky, his narrow eyes flickering with a glimmering intensity.
Gradually, his dark magenta irises transformed, shimmering brighter until they took on a resplendent magenta hue.
Simultaneously, in a remarkable metamorphosis, obsidian scales emerged beneath his skin, encasing his entire body like a protective armor. Not a single scale marred his face, allowing his features to remain untouched.
As his transformation concluded, a faint blue, translucent screen materialized before him.
[Initiating synchronization of previous reincarnation with the current host's body...]
Xia Wei's attention briefly shifted to the ephemeral screen before he redirected his gaze toward the azure expanse above.
"Saint World... Lower Realm, Upper Realm, and the Devils Realm. Such a breathtaking realm," he mused, a curl forming at the corners of his lips. The radiance in his magenta eyes subsided, returning them to their original dark magenta hue.
Concurrently, the transparent screen notified him of the successful completion of the synchronization process. His skin gradually reverted to its human form.
Then, a potent gust of wind, imbued with Qi from the lower realm, intertwined within him, circulating through his meridians and nourishing his core.
"Haha!" Xia Wei couldn't contain his exhilaration as he felt the Qi cleanse his body, expelling impurities. The ancestral bloodline coursing through his veins surged, ignited by the dense Qi, causing his bones to tremble.
Within his Dantian, the spirit of the Yinglong roared in delight, sensing the arrival of a new companion.
Simultaneously, his blood underwent a mysterious transformation. It surged and settled, its rhythm oscillating erratically. Although the changes were transient, Xia Wei couldn't quite discern their nature.
Nevertheless, the sensation dissipated as quickly as it had arisen, leaving him to resume his normal state.
After several moments of assimilation, Xia Wei settled into a cross-legged position upon the ground. Here, he would meditate and absorb the newfound power, refining his existing abilities within this fresh vessel.
His blood coursed through his veins, propelled by his beating heart, traversing the twelve meridians in an infinite cycle.
This circulation nurtured the spirit of the Yinglong within his Dantian and welcomed the presence of the newfound ally, their symbiotic bond further reinforced in this world.
"Status," Xia Wei commanded silently, his focus divided between the cultivation of his newfound strength and the abundant Qi coursing through his being.
In response, a transparent screen materialized within his mind, providing the requested information while he delved into the harmonious dance of old and new power.
[Name: Xia Wei
Age: 20
Bloodline: Yinglong (Thick), Phoenix (Thin), ??? (Thick)
Cultivation Base: Peak-Stage of Nascent Soul]
...
A few days had passed since the last sect meeting,Elders bustled about the sect, their presence commanding as they assigned tasks to the outer disciples and their respective apprentices.
Unlike a few days prior, most of the structures had been rebuilt, restored to their former glory. The ground, once marred by destruction, now bore fresh soil, while the remnants of the shattered cliff had long been cleared away.
In the wake of the devastating Spring Mountain collapse, the fractured remnants were transformed into a new Sect Hall, a place of solace and respite for their grief-stricken Patriarch.
Mere days ago, a solemn funeral had taken place to honor the Patriarch's beloved daughter.
Tenderly, he had laid her earthly remains in a delicate coffin, gently releasing it onto the tranquil surface of Xinjiao Lake, adorned with a multitude of vibrant red lanterns.
The placid waters of Xinjiao Lake seemed to hush, granting onlookers a moment of serenity to witness this poignant ritual.
Tears streamed down the faces of some, their sorrow palpable, while others couldn't help but feel a deep sense of sympathy for the Patriarch's profound loss.
Worry etched itself onto the countenances of many, their hearts heavy with concern for their revered leader.
It was a long-standing belief that by releasing the body and soul into the flowing river, Meng Po, the Goddess of Forgetfulness, would guide the departed spirit into the next cycle of reincarnation, carrying with it a lifetime of memories.
Though no concrete evidence existed to validate this age-old tradition, it persisted through generations, an act of faith and hope.
As the coffin vanished from view, swallowed by the embrace of the lake's ripples, the funeral drew to a close. The following day dawned, and true to expectation, the Patriarch secluded himself within the confines of his chamber.
The weight of his grief bore heavily upon him, rendering him silent and withdrawn, entrusting the weighty decisions of the sect to the capable hands of the Elders.