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Chapter 155 - 4-9

Chapter 004 - During the Second Trial

Other POV:

In the room within the flying boat, a mirror viewing platform was set up, allowing various elders from different sects to comfortably observe the participants during the second trial. The room was abuzz with discussions as the elders evaluated the performances.

The elders present were:

- Elder Zylith from the Golden Scale Sect

- Elder Tyronis from the Whispering Pines Sect

- Elder Hirion from the Silver Mountain Sect

- Elder Talia from the Crimson Wind Sect

- Elder Kyrran from the Shadow Veil Sect

- Elder Zephyr from the Mystic Moon Sect

- Elder Maelis from the Frostfire Sect

- Elder Soryn from the Azure Sky Sect

Each of these elders was a prominent figure in their respective sects, observing the second trial's progress with great interest.

Elder Hirion's gaze focused on one of the participants.

"Number 74 shows promise, he's persevering well,"

"Numbers 7, 25, and 132 are also noteworthy. They refuse to give up easily."

Elder Zylith also added, nodding in agreement.

Of course, while it was true that some participants demonstrated commendable performance, not all participants performed well. Many of them faltered under the pressure and stopped where they stood.

"But overall, the quality of this batch seems disappointing,"

Elder Tyronis commented, his voice tinged with dissatisfaction.

Elder Talia sighed.

"Yes, too many of them are stuck below the 100-step mark. It's disheartening."

"Well, it's to be expected in a remote area like this,"

Elder Zylith added.

Elder Kyrran, looking disinterested in the majority of participants, leaned forward.

"Can we shift the mirror's focus to the top 30 children?"

"I'm afraid not. We must ensure the fairness of the trial."

Elder Soryn shook his head.

While some elders continued to discuss the participants' performances, others remained silent, disappointed by the overall low quality. By the second trial, nearly 90% of the participants had already been eliminated. Those who failed would not proceed to the third trial. They would be left at the trial site, which was hosted by the Iron Blade Sect. The eliminated participants would have to decide whether to serve as handymen in the Iron Blade Sect or return home on their own. Of course, if any sect chose to take them in, no one would object.

Elder Maelis, observing the participants, turned to his disciple, Faylen, who stood behind him. "What do you think? Have you spotted anyone promising?"

Faylen, who had been intently watching one of the mirrors, was momentarily startled by the question. If Rinne had been present, she would have recognized him as the senior disciple who had performed the Dust Removal technique for her before their departure. Faylen had originally attended the recruitment ceremony simply to accompany Elder Maelis.

As he thought back, he recalled the beggar who had boldly asked him for help before the trip. At that time, Rinne had appeared so androgynous with her short hair and flat chest that he had mistaken her for a boy. That beggar's boldness had left an impression on him. However, when he searched for the figure in the mirror, he was surprised to find the person near the back of the group, just four from the last. He had expected this "boy" to show some promise, but it seemed he was nothing special after all.

Faylen replied after a moment.

"No, this disciple has not seen anyone worth taking,"

"I see. Your intuition is rarely wrong. If you say so, then perhaps it is as you said."

Elder Maelis nodded, trusting his disciple's judgment.

Hearing Elder Maelis' words, Faylen felt a momentary urge to respond, but the words caught in his throat. He glanced back at the remaining participants, his interest waning rapidly. Despite the commendable performances from some at the front of the group, none of them seemed to possess the qualities their sect sought.

As time passed, the number of participants still climbing dwindled until only 30 remained—just as Elder Kyrran had predicted. Among these, Number 74 stood out, steadily making his way toward the top. The elders watched intently as he approached the peak, but just as he was about to reach it, he suddenly stopped in his tracks.

The room grew silent as Number 74 closed his eyes, and a surge of spiritual energy swirled around him, rapidly being absorbed into his body. The phenomenon didn't go unnoticed by the elders, and a few of them immediately recognized what was happening.

One of the elders exclaimed, his voice filled with astonishment.

"Epiphany! Number 74 is having an epiphany!"

"Who is this Number 74?!"

Another elder demanded, eager to know the identity of the promising participant.

"Roran Lareth, a fire single spiritual root with 90% purity!"

"No wonder, so that's him!"

Came the answer, causing a ripple of excitement to spread through the room.

Among the excited elders, none were more thrilled than Elder Soryn. His eyes gleamed with anticipation as he watched Roran, recognizing the immense potential this participant possessed.

However, this excitement did not extend to Elder Maelis and Faylen. They remained indifferent, their attention already diverted from the trial. For them, Roran's performance and potential, though impressive, held no significance.

♠♠♠

Rinne POV:

As expected, Rinne's plan unfolded just as she predicted.

She climbed the steps alongside the other children, carefully keeping pace. But she was careful not to draw too much attention, ensuring she wasn't among the very last or second to last.

'I need to maintain my position, not too fast, not too slow. Just stay in the middle of the pack.'

Around her, the other participants struggled as well. Some gritted their teeth, pushing forward with all their might. Others, however, were less composed.

A wealthy boy whined, his voice tinged with panic.

"Why is this so hard?! I can't feel my legs!"

"This is impossible! I'm not going any further!"

Another cried, his face pale as he clutched his chest.

Rinne glanced at the wealthier participants, noticing the stark contrast in their reactions compared to the poorer children.

'They've been too pampered and never faced real hardship.'

She stood silently, observing one boy who had started crying and another who looked on the verge of vomiting.

Not long after, a sickening smell filled the air as one of the wealthy boys lost control and urinated where he stood. The embarrassment on his face was clear, but he was too weak to care. Another participant, a girl from a wealthy family, fell to her knees, trembling uncontrollably.

Rinne's own struggle was becoming more apparent with each step. The pressure felt like a crushing weight on her body, making it difficult to breathe. But she knew better than to push herself too far.

As if on cue, a child nearby collapsed, fainting from the strain. Without hesitation, Rinne decided this was her chance. She slowed down, letting herself fall to the ground, pretending to faint as well.

Time passed, and suddenly, there was a commotion at the top of the stairs. Rinne cracked her eyes open, sensing a surge of spiritual energy gathering at the peak.

'This is it. This is the moment Roran had his epiphany.'

From Roran's memories, she knew exactly what was happening. The boy experienced an epiphany and was about to break through to the 3rd level of Spirit Gathering stage, and once he did, climbing to the peak would be easy for him.

'Roran Lareth... He's like a typical protagonist straight out of a Xianxia novel.'

Rinne couldn't help but find the resemblance uncanny. Roran was born into a branch family of a relatively huge clan. His parents had mysteriously disappeared, and the wealth of his family had been usurped by the main branch. The only thing left to him was a necklace, a memento from his mother.

That necklace turned out to be a planting space, a treasure inherited from his maternal family's ancestral legacy. No grandpa soul in it, but still, it allowed him to grow herbs without any issues.

Roran had been accepted as a disciple of Elder Soryn in the Azure Sky Sect, a large and prestigious sect. There, he learned various cultivation techniques and alchemy. With his planting space and his knowledge of alchemy, Roran never lacked for pills or elixirs.

'He was living the dream of every Xianxia protagonist. But in the end, even he couldn't escape his fate.'

Rinne remembered the moment she had killed him in her previous life. She had claimed the treasure for herself, but to her frustration, the planting space could only be used by someone with Roran's maternal family bloodline. It had been utterly useless to her.

The content of Roran's epiphany was etched in her mind. It involved a profound understanding of the Spirit Gathering manual—how to absorb and control spiritual energy, and how to integrate it into the dantian. Roran had tailored the technique to his fire spiritual root, optimizing it to absorb fire-attribute spiritual energy, accelerating his cultivation speed. Unfortunately, most of it was irrelevant to Rinne since she lacked any spiritual root.

However, the inner breathing technique within the epiphany was incredibly useful. It was this method that allowed her to persevere through the trial without fainting. As she lay there pretending to be unconscious, she instinctively regulated her breathing to restore her stamina.

As the spiritual energy concentrated at the peak, the oppressive pressure on the stairs suddenly lessened. The trial became much easier to endure. Realizing this and noting that she had recovered most of her stamina, a thought crossed her mind.

'Should I climb higher? If I reach the 200th step, I can become an outer disciple. That would be much easier than being a handyman.'

If she could became an outer disciple, there was no reason for her to endure the hardships of being a handyman. As for aiming for inner disciple status, she didn't dare as it was too risky. If an elder examined her closely, they might discover her lack of spiritual roots.

Her mind made up, Rinne slowly rose to her feet. She ignored the participants lying on the steps, some of whom had truly fainted, and began climbing again.

A nearby participant murmured, clearly exhausted.

"Is he getting up again?!"

"I thought he was done for..."

Another participant also said with disbelief in his voice.

Rinne paid them no mind, focusing solely on reaching her goal. The steps passed by one after another until finally, she reached the 200th step. She let out a breath of relief as she saw the 200 mark.

'Good. This is far enough. There's no need to push further.'

She sat down, her body relaxing as she took in the view from the 200th step. She glanced up at the steps above, recalling what she knew from Roran's memories.

'After the 300th step, the trial introduces illusions. They test the participants' inner heart. I remember a few people who had embarrassing experiences during this trial—losing control, crying, even soiling themselves like the one below. It's a tough trial.'

As these idle thoughts crossed her mind, Rinne let herself relax fully. Her body, exhausted from the climb, needed rest.

'I'll just sleep until the trial ends. There's no need to do anything more.'

With that, Rinne closed her eyes and drifted off into a light sleep, content with her progress.

Chapter 005 - Echoes of the Past

Roran's POV:

Roran was born into the Lareth branch family, a lesser yet respected part of the larger Lareth clan.

His early years were marked by happiness, living comfortably with his parents in their modest estate. His cousin, Arin, who was one year younger, was his closest companion. The two of them shared a bond that seemed unbreakable, often spending their days playing in the gardens, exploring the woods, and even taking baths together under the watchful eyes of their parents.

Their relationship was innocent, filled with the pure joy of childhood. Whether it was climbing trees, chasing each other through the fields, or simply sitting by the river talking about their dreams, they were inseparable.

Did they harbor feelings of love for one another? They were too young to understand such complexities, but their bond was undeniably strong.

As a child of the Lareth family, Roran was naturally introduced to the world of cultivation early on. Though he wasn't allowed to begin his training just yet, the concept of cultivation fascinated him. He knew it meant strength, longevity, and perhaps most importantly, the ability to protect those he cared about. He often dreamed of the day he would start his training, imagining the power he would wield. His parents ensured he was well-prepared for that day, feeding him nutritious meals and soaking him in medicinal baths to fortify his young body.

By all accounts, his future seemed bright. He would start cultivating at the age of ten, participate in the Immortal Alliance recruitment ceremony, and, with luck, join a prestigious sect that would guide his development.

But everything changed when he was nine.

One day, without warning, his parents mysteriously disappeared. There were no signs of a struggle, no notes left behind, just an empty house and a sense of dread that settled over young Roran. He was confused and scared, unsure of what to do or where to turn. Days turned into weeks, and still, there was no word from his parents.

Amidst this chaos, Arin came to visit him. Her expression was unusually somber, her usual cheerfulness replaced by an awkward silence. When she finally spoke, her voice was barely above a whisper.

"Brother Roran... I'm sorry."

Before he could ask what she meant, she turned and left, leaving him standing in the doorway, bewildered and alone.

At first, he didn't understand. But it didn't take long for the pieces to fall into place. His uncle, Eirik, who had always been kind to him, suddenly took over the estate, claiming it was his duty to manage the family's wealth and resources in the absence of Roran's parents. Under the clan's law, Eirik was now Roran's guardian, and by extension, the steward of everything his parents had left behind.

Eirik pretended to care, offering hollow words of comfort as he stripped Roran of his birthright, with a practiced smile.

"It's for your own good, Roran. You're still young, and you need someone to manage these affairs until you're of age."

"Don't worry, I'll make sure everything is taken care of."

But Roran saw through the facade.

He knew this was nothing more than a calculated move to seize power and wealth. The clan had already declared his parents dead, despite their bodies never being found. It was too convenient, too well-timed.

'Why are they so certain my parents are dead?This is a conspiracy, but what can I do? I'm just a child…'

Roran's resolve hardened in the days that followed. He couldn't accept this injustice, but he was powerless to stop it. All he had left was his mother's ancestral heirloom necklace, a strange trinket that he could only hope held some hidden power or secret.

His only option now was to attend the recruitment ceremony of the Immortal Alliance and join a powerful sect. With their backing, he could perhaps find out what truly happened to his parents and reclaim what was rightfully his.

But there was no way he could join the ceremony in his birth town. If word got back to his clan, Eirik would surely find a way to interfere. No, he needed to travel to another town, somewhere far from the Lareth family's influence.

Clutching his mother's necklace and the few silver coins he had managed to save, Roran left the only home he had ever known. He boarded a caravan heading to a distant town, determined to attend the recruitment ceremony on time and begin his journey toward reclaiming his destiny.

And then, about a month later.

Roran successfully attended the recruitment ceremony at Elaria Town.

When his fire attribute spiritual root with 90% purity was announced, he remained calm. He was already aware of his spiritual root's quality, having been regularly examined by his parents. It was thanks to the medicinal baths that his spiritual root's purity reached this high.

'If only things had gone as planned, another year of medicinal baths and my purity could have reached 95%.'

He knew well the importance of this 5% difference. It wasn't just numbers—it was the time needed to progress in cultivation. A person with a 90% pure spiritual root could reach Foundation Establishment in about ten years, but with 95%, it would take only eight.

'This gap will only widen as I advance, but life has forced my hand. If Mother hadn't disappeared...'

He couldn't help but lament the loss.

She was the only one who knew how to concoct the special medicinal bath. He'd watched her prepare it, but at that age, he lacked the alchemical knowledge to understand. By the time he could have learned alchemy and reached the 1st stage as an alchemist, the details would have faded from his mind, irretrievable.

Unless someone used a soul search technique on him.

The second trial was a test of endurance—climbing the stairs to the peak of the mountain. His parents' body tempering preparations had not been in vain; he reached the 200-step mark with relative ease. But the difficulty increased exponentially after that. At the 300-step mark, he was suddenly thrust into an illusion.

In the illusion, he was back with Arin, his childhood sweetheart cousin. His parents were present, and his uncle was the kind man he remembered. He and Arin married, had two children, and lived a peaceful life. For a moment, it felt real, almost too real.

"Is this the life I could have had?"

He couldn't help but wonder.

But he remembered his purpose, the reason he was here. With a heavy heart, he shattered the illusion with sheer willpower. Arin looked sad as the world crumbled, but she smiled at him and said,

"Good luck, brother Roran."

Stunned, Roran replied, "Yeah..."

But as he spoke, he was already back on the stairs, with a pang of sadness lingering.

'She probably didn't even hear me..'

Determined, he continued the ascent.

The 400th step, the 500th, the 600th—each milestone brought a new illusion. He lived many lives in those illusions—becoming a wealthy merchant, traveling the world, experiencing love and loss. But every time, he shattered the illusions, remembering his true goal: to join a sect, to cultivate, and to find his parents.

Suddenly, his mind cleared, and he sensed his body absorbing spiritual power at an incredible rate.

It was an epiphany—a state that was rare and highly coveted, yet impossible to seek out intentionally. Many cultivators yearned for it, but few ever experienced it. Roran, at just nine years old, was one of the fortunate few.

He couldn't control his body, all he could do was sit down and let the process unfold. His mind marveled at the sensation of the knowledge he had learned being refreshed with a deeper understanding. This profound experience went on for some time, and he lost track of how long it lasted.

Suddenly, unfamiliar knowledge began to surface in his mind, knowledge that shocked him when he recognized its origin.

When the epiphany finally ended, Roran found himself at the 3rd level of Spirit Gathering stage. However, as he opened his eyes, his expression turned stern.

"The Calamity Witch..."

The unfamiliar knowledge he now recognized as memories from his previous life, right up until his death.

Chapter 006 - The Calamity Witch

Roran POV:

Roran's fingers tightened around the ancestral necklace, a cherished relic from his maternal family.

The cold metal pressed against his chest, a tangible link to a past that felt both distant and painfully present. This necklace was not just an heirloom; it was his sole anchor to the world he had lost and the source of his strength to persevere.

For years, the necklace had been a symbol of hope and determination. It was the one thing that reminded him of his family's legacy and fueled his drive to uncover the truth about his parents' mysterious disappearance.

♠♠♠

 

In his previous life, Roran had discovered the necklace's true function under unexpected circumstances.

He remembered vividly how he had joined the Azure Sky Sect, one of the most prestigious sects within the Immortal Alliance, after Elder Soryn, a respected figure in the sect, took notice of his potential and invited him to become his personal disciple. The Azure Sky Sect was renowned for its vast influence and resources, making it the perfect place for Roran to seek answers about his family's fate.

Without hesitation, Roran had accepted Elder Soryn's offer. Under the sect's protection, he was free to focus entirely on his cultivation. The Azure Sky Sect provided him with access to their finest fire-attribute cultivation techniques, including the Blazing Inferno Method. This Earth-grade mid-tier technique allowed practitioners to refine their spiritual energy into a blazing inferno, significantly enhancing their offensive capabilities and cultivation speed. The rigorous training regimen required cultivating in extreme heat, which tempered both body and soul.

In addition to the Blazing Inferno Method, Roran trained in various Earth-grade fire-attribute martial arts such as Flame Serpent Palm and Lava Burst Technique—skills typically reserved for core and personal disciples. The intensive training and access to these techniques accelerated his growth, and within three years, he had become a formidable cultivator.

It was during the Immortal Alliance's competition that fate took an unexpected turn. Injured in the fray, Roran's blood stained the necklace. To his astonishment, the necklace revealed its true nature as a planting space. This hidden function opened up a realm where he could cultivate herbs and refine alchemical ingredients with unparalleled efficiency.

Seizing this opportunity, Roran delved into the art of alchemy, quickly rising to become a 1st-grade alchemist within a month. The abundance of pills and elixirs at his disposal allowed him to sustain his cultivation without hindrance. As the years passed, Roran's skills flourished, and by the age of nineteen, he had reached the Foundation Establishment stage.

Despite his rapid advancement, Roran's original goal remained clear: finding his parents.

To achieve this, he needed substantial contribution points. Elder Soryn, recognizing Roran's determination, provided him with a pathway. With the elder's recommendation, Roran joined the Shadowbane Order—a division of the Immortal Alliance dedicated to hunting and exterminating evil cultivators. Membership in this order was both prestigious and significant, offering him the chance to earn contribution points through missions and combat.

With his new position, Roran was not only able to accumulate contribution points more efficiently but also took the opportunity to confront his uncle. Determined to reclaim his family's wealth, Roran used his authority within the Shadowbane Order to pressure his uncle, Eirik Lareth, into handing over the assets that rightfully belonged to his parents.

The process of reclaiming his parents' assets ran more smoothly than Roran had anticipated, though not without its challenges. His uncle, Eirik, initially resisted, unwilling to relinquish the wealth he had usurped.

"If you think you can just waltz in here and take what's mine, you're sorely mistaken."

"What's yours? Everything you have belongs to my parents. You stole it, and now I'm taking it back."

Roran met his uncle's gaze with unwavering determination.

Eirik scoffed, his aura intensifying as he prepared to unleash his strength.

"Do you really think you, a mere 1st Foundation Establishment cultivator, can take me on? I'm at the peak of the 6th Foundation Establishment stage! You're out of your depth, boy."

"I didn't come alone, Uncle. I came with the backing of the Shadowbane Order."

Roran remained calm, his voice steady.

At Roran's signal, his squadron members stepped forward, their combined presence creating an overwhelming pressure that made Eirik falter. Realizing the futility of resistance, Eirik's defiance crumbled. He clenched his fists, his expression twisted in anger and frustration, but he knew he had no choice but to comply.

Eirik spat, his voice laced with bitterness.

"Fine, take it all then. But remember, Roran, this isn't over."

"It was over the moment you betrayed our family."

Roran nodded, his expression devoid of emotion.

As Roran and his squadron began the process of reclaiming the estate, he encountered Arin Lareth, his childhood sweetheart. She stood in the hallway, her eyes wide with a mix of surprise and joy upon seeing him.

Arin's voice trembled as she took a step forward.

"Brother Roran… is it really you?"

"It's me, Arin..."

Roran replied, his tone softening for the first time that day.

But as Arin approached, her expression changed, the realization of his purpose sinking in. She said, gesturing to the house that had been her home for years.

"You're here for... this. You've come to take it back."

"I have to. It belongs to my family."

Roran nodded.

Arin's initial joy faded, replaced by a calm acceptance.

"I understand."

She watched in silence as Roran's squadron evicted her family from the estate, her face a mask of composure. When the task was done, and Roran was about to leave, Arin called out to him.

"Brother Roran, wait."

He turned to face her, seeing the maturity that had transformed her into a fine lady. Her cultivation had also progressed; she was now at the 4th Spirit Gathering stage. They stood together in the courtyard, the air heavy with unspoken emotions.

Roran said, his voice tinged with regret.

"I didn't expect things to turn out this way,"

"Neither did I... But life has a way of changing us, doesn't it?"

They reminisced about their shared childhood, recalling the days when they were carefree and inseparable.

Despite the tension between their families, an unspoken agreement passed between them—to leave the bitterness behind, if only for a moment, and speak as the friends they once were.

"I attended the Immortal Alliance recruitment ceremony in our birth town... It wasn't an easy path, but I've managed. What about you?"

"I've joined the Azure Sky Sect, I'm… making progress."

Roran said, avoiding the details of his journey.

Arin gave a small, sad smile.

"I'm glad to hear that."

As Roran turned to leave, Arin suddenly stepped forward and kissed him on the mouth. It was a gentle, fleeting kiss, filled with all the emotions she couldn't express in words.

When she pulled away, tears glistened in her eyes.

"Brother Roran, I'm about to get married. I'm glad my first kiss was with you."

Roran stood there, stunned, as Arin walked away, her words echoing in his mind.

An unfamiliar emotion welled up inside him, something he couldn't quite identify. The memory of the illusion he had faced during the second trial—the one where they had been married—resurfaced, leaving him conflicted.

"Am I… in love with her?"

He wondered silently. But the reality of their positions weighed heavily on him, and he knew that being together was impossible.

A few weeks later, Arin's marriage took place. Roran did not attend the wedding, he couldn't bring himself to face her or the life she was about to start without him. The pain of her departure lingered, plunging him into a deep depression. For an entire month, he neglected his training and cultivation, lost in a haze of sorrow and regret.

Elder Soryn, noticing the drastic change in his disciple, summoned Roran to his chambers. The elder's wise eyes observed Roran with concern as he spoke.

"Roran, I can see that something is troubling you deeply. This kind of emotional turmoil can be dangerous for a cultivator. It can lead to the development of an inner demon, which could hinder your progress—or worse."

"I don't know what to do, Elder. I… I can't stop thinking about her."

Roran lowered his head, unable to meet his mentor's gaze.

Elder Soryn nodded understandingly.

"Heartache is a part of life, but you must not let it consume you. You need to find a way to move forward, to focus on something that will help you heal."

"What should I do, Elder?"

Roran asked, his voice filled with desperation.

Elder Soryn placed a reassuring hand on Roran's shoulder.

"Perhaps you should occupy yourself with something that requires your full attention. I suggest taking on more missions with the Shadowbane Order. Hunting evil cultivators will not only help you accumulate contribution points but also allow you to channel your emotions into something productive. It's an important duty, and it may be just what you need to forget the pain."

"I'll do as you suggest, Elder. I'll focus on the missions."

Roran nodded, grasping the lifeline his mentor offered.

With renewed determination, Roran threw himself into his duties, diligently hunting down evil cultivators. The thrill of battle and the satisfaction of purging the wicked temporarily numbed the pain in his heart. For several years, Roran became known as a fierce protector, a cultivator who showed no mercy to those who threatened the peace.

With each mission, his cultivation advanced steadily, and over time, he reached the Core Formation stage—a significant milestone that solidified his reputation as a formidable force within the cultivation world.

But then, everything changed when the Calamity Witch appeared.

♠♠♠

 

The Calamity Witch.

A name that strikes fear into the hearts of all, whether they are righteous cultivators or practitioners of the darkest arts.

She was a legend whispered about in secret gatherings, her infamy spread across the cultivation world like wildfire. Her presence sent shockwaves through the cultivation world, disrupting the delicate balance that Roran and others like him had fought so hard to maintain. The path that Roran had carved out for himself, the progress he had made, and the peace he had found were all thrown into chaos by this new and insurmountable threat.

No one knew her true identity, her original name, or even her real appearance. She was a master of disguise, capable of assuming countless identities, slipping into and out of the most secure places unnoticed. This ability to blend in, to become anyone, added to the chilling uncertainty that surrounded her. The only consistent truth that emerged from the countless stories and encounters was that she was female—a woman whose heart had turned as cold and dark as the abyss itself.

The Calamity Witch was not just any cultivator—she was a master of the four sacred arts of cultivation: alchemy, formations, talismans, and metal refining. Her prowess in these arts was unrivaled, making her a formidable opponent on any battlefield. But it was not her mastery of these arts that truly terrifies those who speak of her.

It was her cultivation method—a dark and forbidden technique known as the Blood Essence Devourment Technique.

This sinister method allowed her to absorb the life force and spiritual essence of her victims, using their vitality to propel her own cultivation forward at an alarming rate. The Blood Essence Devourment Technique was exceptionally powerful, enabling rapid advancements in cultivation that most could only dream of. However, it was a path fraught with unimaginable consequences.

Continuous use of the Blood Essence Devourment Technique erodes the practitioner's morality, turning them into a ruthless, cold-blooded monster who views life as nothing more than fuel for their ambitions. The practitioner becomes increasingly detached from humanity, their conscience slowly withering away under the weight of the countless lives they have consumed.

But the cost was not just moral. The practitioner must endure the constant resentment of their victims, whose souls remain tethered to the practitioner, their hatred a festering wound in the practitioner's mind. This leads to emotional instability, driving the practitioner further into madness. And as if that were not enough, the karmic repercussions of the technique are severe. The more life force the practitioner devours, the more they attract heavenly tribulations, curses, and other supernatural consequences that could bring about their downfall.

Over time, the practitioner becomes dependent on the technique, requiring more and more life essence to maintain their power. This creates a vicious cycle of destruction and cultivation, where the practitioner is forced to kill again and again to avoid losing their hard-earned strength. It was a method that can grant rapid advancement in cultivation, but at the cost of one's soul.

The Immortal Alliance has long banned this technique, and anyone found practicing it is hunted down and killed on sight.

The horrors of the Blood Essence Devourment Technique were fully exhibited by the Calamity Witch. She was a living nightmare, feared by all who crossed her path. Her ruthlessness knew no bounds. She would immobilize her enemies, rob them of all their possessions—leaving them with nothing, not even their underwear—and then drain their energy to fuel her cultivation. The victims were left naked, shriveled into mummies, crumbling into dust at the slightest touch, leaving no trace of their existence.

This was not mere rumor or hearsay. The truth of her deeds was recorded in the life stones of her victims, which captured their final moments in harrowing detail. Those who watched these recordings could only shudder in fear, knowing that the Calamity Witch was real, and that she was out there, somewhere, waiting to strike again.

But perhaps what made the Calamity Witch truly terrifying was her cunning.

She was not reckless, she knew when to fight and when to flee. If she encountered a cultivator stronger than herself or one with a prominent background and strong defenses, she would retreat without hesitation. But her retreat was not the end. She would infiltrate the background of her would-be victim—their clan, their sect, or any force that supported them—and begin her killing spree. She preferred not to draw attention to her actions, instead killing silently, methodically, leaving a trail of death that might not be discovered until it was too late.

By the time her main target realized what had happened, they would often find themselves alone, their family, clan, or sect decimated, their foundation destroyed from within. This was the true terror of the Calamity Witch. She was not just a cultivator—she was a harbinger of doom, a force that could not be stopped once set in motion.

 

Roran was not the first victim of the Calamity Witch, but he was among the earliest.

During one of his missions, he suddenly received urgent news—his Lareth clan had been exterminated. Panic gripped his heart as he raced back to his birthplace, a sense of foreboding gnawing at him.

When he arrived in the town, the atmosphere was eerily quiet. The entire town was under military alert, with every shop and building closed, except for those belonging to the Lareth clan. Even those buildings stood open, but they were empty, as if hastily abandoned. The eerie stillness felt like a void, swallowing all signs of life.

Roran's heart pounded as he made his way to the clan's settlement, where he found only emptiness. No servants, no animals, no signs of life at all. His family home, once bustling with activity, was now a hollow shell, ransacked and devoid of anything valuable. Even the servants he had hired to maintain the house had vanished without a trace.

Turmoil brewed within Roran. Despite the clan's treatment of him, it was still the place he grew up, the foundation of his past. Desperation took hold as he scanned the entire settlement with his spiritual power. There was no one in the entire area—except for one person lying in the ancestral hall.

Roran's heart raced as he rushed to the hall, fearing the worst. When he arrived, he found Arin lying on the ground. A strange formation, one he didn't recognize, was drawn beneath her.

Worry eclipsed all reason as he approached her, trying to wake her up.

"Arin!"

Roran's voice trembled with worry as he knelt beside her, gently shaking her shoulders. Her skin was pale, her breath shallow, and her clothes were disheveled as if she had been in a struggle.

If he had been thinking clearly, he would have recognized the situation as a trap. Perhaps he should have brought reinforcements or at least hesitated before entering alone. But his concern for Arin clouded his judgment. The moment he stepped into the room, the trap sprang shut—his spiritual power was suppressed, and he found himself unable to leave.

Arin's eyes fluttered open, and she looked at Roran with a weak, frightened expression. Her voice was frail, her hand trembling as she reached out to him.

"Brother Roran… You must run…"

"Arin, are you okay? What happened?"

Roran asked, his voice filled with desperation as he clasped her hand, trying to reassure her.

Arin looked fragile and scared as she tried to sit up, her breath coming in ragged gasps.

"Everyone… everyone here is…"

She trailed off, her eyes filling with tears as she reached out to touch his face.

Roran leaned closer, trying to catch her faint words, but the moment her fingers brushed his forehead, her voice twisted into a sinister tone.

"…killed by me."

"You! You are not—"

A cold shiver ran down Roran's spine. He pulled back, his eyes wide with shock. But it was too late, Roran's words were cut off as his vision blurred, and his memory ended abruptly.

♠♠♠

 

The nine-year-old Roran awoke from his reminiscence, understanding all too well what had likely happened next: his death. The truth was bitter and painful, knowing that the next target of the witch's wrath was likely the Azure Sky Sect.

Roran clenched his fists, a storm of emotions raging within him. He hadn't lived long enough in his past life to know if the witch was ever defeated or to uncover her true motives. But that no longer mattered. What mattered now was that the threat of the Calamity Witch had to be eradicated.

'How dare she use Arin's appearance?' 

His mind replayed the scene in the ancestral hall over and over again. Arin's terrified face, her trembling voice, and the way she reached out to him—all of it was seared into his memory. But beneath the fear, there was something else, something that gnawed at him: a deep, gnawing regret.

In his previous life, he hadn't realized his feelings for Arin until it was too late. He had been too focused on his cultivation, on reclaiming his family's legacy, and on avenging the wrongs done to him. But now, with the clarity of hindsight, he understood. He was in love with her, and he had let her slip through his fingers.

Never again.

Roran vowed silently to himself.

"This time, things will be different. I will reclaim my strength, I will reach Foundation Establishment first, and when I do, I will claim Arin as mine."

The thought gave him a fierce sense of determination.

He would become strong enough to protect her, to protect everyone he cared about. He would not let the past repeat itself. The Calamity Witch might have been a formidable foe, but Roran had the advantage of foresight, and he intended to use it to its fullest.

The heavens had given him a second chance, and he would not squander it.

He already knew the path to power, and this time, he would walk it with a purpose that transcended his own ambitions. He would save his clan, protect the Azure Sky Sect, and when the time was right, he would find Arin and make her his. No one, not even a monstrous witch, would stand in his way.

Chapter 007 - The Witch's Reflection

Rinne stirred as the final announcement for the second trial faded into the air, signaling the end of her brief rest.

She blinked, the remnants of a dream still clinging to her consciousness—a dream that wasn't so much a dream as a vivid recollection of her past life.

In that life, she had been an evil cultivator, a predator who hunted without remorse or hesitation. When she targeted someone, the path she took depended on their strength and connections. If her target was weak and insignificant, it was a simple matter—a quick, clean kill that left no traces.

But if her target was powerful, surrounded by a web of allies, family, or sect members who would seek vengeance, her approach was different. She would start by dismantling their influence, one connection at a time.

It was a methodical and strategic process, akin to playing a stealth game in the modern world.

'It's strange how easily the past can surface, like an old game reloaded into a new console. I remember playing Tenchu or Assassin's Creed series, where I kill the target while trying to be unnoticed. But perhaps, Hitman series was probably the closest to reality.'

She reproduced the way she completed a certain mission in the game, with the challenge of killing everyone and remaining unseen.

'Each target had a pattern, a routine, and it was my job to find the weak spot, take advantage of the environment, and kill them without anyone knowing.'

But when she killed, it wasn't just a simple kill, that would be too wasteful.

She first had to immobilize the victim by using traps, poison or other methods, leaving them vulnerable and unable to resist. This step was crucial to ensure she could use the soul search technique without interference.

Once the target was immobilized, she would use the soul search technique to extract their memories, skills, and experiences. This step was crucial for gathering the necessary information to enhance her own capabilities. It was through this method that she had amassed an unparalleled wealth of knowledge, learning countless techniques that were otherwise monopolized by powerful clans and sects.

And after that, she used the Blood Essence Devourment Technique, a forbidden art that allowed her to absorb her victim's essence, converting it into spiritual energy that fueled her cultivation. It was like gaining experience points in a game, leveling up with each kill.

Eventually, she grew tired of performing the three steps separately. It was time-consuming and inefficient.

So, after she searched relevant methods, she created a new technique, which she named Soul Harvest Technique, a culmination of her efforts to streamline the process, combining Soul Bind Technique, Soul Search Technique, and Blood Essence Devourment Technique into one efficient action.

'Efficiency was key! Why waste time on separate processes when you can merge them into a single, potent action? It was perfect for someone like me, always seeking the quickest path to power.'

However, the Blood Essence Devourment Technique came with a heavy price. It was not a healthy technique by any means. The spiritual energy she absorbed was volatile, often wreaking havoc on her body, particularly on her heart, where she stored the energy in the absence of a spiritual root. The pain was constant, a reminder of the unnatural forces she was tampering with.

That was understandable, even in modern times, transplant surgeries came with rejection risks. Absorbing another's energy was no different, only far more dangerous.

As for the so-called resentment that other cultivators often spoke of—the lingering malice of those she killed—she had never experienced it. She had a theory, though: by extracting their memories first and storing them separately, she prevented their emotions from contaminating her mind.

Interestingly, she also never encountered the so-called Heavenly Tribulation that cultivators feared. Even when she reached the Void Refining level, the skies remained silent. Her speculation was that it might have something to do with her soul being foreign, from another world altogether, but she wasn't entirely sure.

'But still… If possible, I won't use that same method again in this life. The power it offers isn't worth the constant pain. I'd rather find a different path to strength, one that doesn't involve heart attacks. I've accumulated enough knowledge to cultivate through other means, anyway.'

With these thoughts lingering, Rinne shook off the remnants of her dream and fully awakened.

♠♠♠

After a few minutes, Rinne found herself standing in the public hall of the Iron Blade Sect.

The familiar sensation of teleportation faded, leaving her amidst a group of thirty other participants who had seemingly passed the assessment as well.

The hall buzzed with the muted excitement and tension of those who had just survived the trial. Rinne's gaze swept over the group, noting the varying degrees of exhaustion etched on their faces. Despite the shared experience, she felt detached from the rest, her mind still processing the memories she had absorbed using the Soul Search technique.

An elder, whose presence commanded immediate attention, stepped forward. His voice, calm and authoritative, cut through the silence that had fallen over the hall.

"Congratulations to those of you who have passed."

With a single, fluid motion of his hand, two bottles and a wooden badge floated through the air, landing gently in front of each participant. Rinne caught hers with ease, her curiosity piqued as she examined the items.

The blue bottle contained ten Spirit Gathering Pills, while the green bottle held ten Healing Pills. The elder explained that these were rewards for passing the trial and then announced the number of those who had succeeded.

"These are your rewards! From the original 480 participants, only 31 of you have passed."

The elder continued, his tone neutral.

"Such a low passing rate, but that only serves to show how selective we must be."

Rinne noted the absence of the remaining participants.

According to the memories she had extracted from other cultivators, those who failed the trial were not present because they would be left here and relegated to the role of handymen within the Iron Blade Sect.

Prominent sects like the Azure Sky Sect and others didn't bother accepting those low-quality seeds. They did not lack handymen, as they had their own rigorous systems of evaluating and promoting or demoting disciples. Those who met the standards were promoted, while those who didn't were demoted, and at the bottom were handymen, who performed menial tasks until they proved their worth.

The elder's voice drew her attention once more.

"You are to board the boat and rest. No further instructions will be given at this time."

With that, he left them to their own devices. Rinne joined the others as they made their way to the flying boat, the same boat that transported them, docked just outside the hall.

As they walked, she noticed some of the participants discreetly swallowing a Healing Pill, their faces contorting in brief pain before relief washed over them. Others, though wounded, chose to conserve their pills, saving them for more dire situations.

Rinne, however, pocketed both bottles without a second thought. She felt no need for the pills, her body unscathed and her energy reserves intact.

Just as she was about to step onto the boat, a boy's voice called out behind her.

"You're pretty good for a beggar."

Rinne frowned, the words triggering a flicker of irritation. Still, she responded with a curt, "Thank you," and continued on her way.

But the boy was persistent, quickly catching up to her.

"Hey, wait! I didn't mean it like that. I was actually complimenting you. Don't just walk away."

Rinne stopped, her patience wearing thin. The boy shifted uncomfortably under her gaze before offering an apologetic smile.

"I'm sorry if I offended you. My name is Kael Verin."

The young boy named Kael Verin looked to be around 10 years old. His hair was short, dark brown, and slightly tousled, giving him a cheerful look. His eyes were a piercing green, reflecting a mix of curiosity and determination.

Rinne didn't understand why this boy seemed interested in her. Maybe he was curious about why the beggar child could pass the trial while many of the wealthy children could not.

Regarding this, she could only say that they were simply too pampered and became weak.

"Just call me Rin,"

She replied, her tone flat as she resumed her pace, leaving Kael to follow or not as he wished.

As they continued toward the boat, Rinne's attention was drawn to a figure approaching Roran, who was ahead of her. An elder, distinguished and stern, had made his way to Roran and engaged him in a brief, hushed conversation. Roran nodded and, without hesitation, followed the elder towards a different boat.

Rinne's eyes narrowed as she recognized the elder from Roran's memories—it was Elder Soryn. The realization struck her: this was likely the moment Roran had been recruited into the Azure Sky Sect, bypassing the need for the third trial entirely. Though she couldn't hear their conversation, it was clear that something significant was happening.

Watching Roran disappear with Elder Soryn into the boat, Rinne felt a pang of curiosity. She knew this wasn't just any casual invitation; this was the start of Roran's journey into one of the most prestigious sects in the Immortal Alliance—a journey she had already glimpsed through his memories.

But this has nothing to do with her, she had her own path to walk. Turning away, Rinne boarded the boat with the other participants.

After all the participants had boarded the flying boat, it lifted into the air, heading toward the location of the third trial. The hum of the boat's energy thrummed beneath Rinne's feet as she found a seat near the edge, preferring to stay away from the crowd.

Kael Verin, the boy who had earlier spoken to her, made his way over and sat beside her. He seemed eager to continue the conversation.

"Let me reintroduce myself. I'm Kael Verin, second son of the Verin main branch family."

Rinne gave him a brief nod, her expression neutral. "Rin," she replied simply, not offering more.

Kael continued, oblivious to her disinterest.

"The Verin clan is known for our talisman shops. We have branches in many towns, including Elaria Town. Maybe you've heard of us?"

Rinne remained silent, though she was far from uninformed.

She knew the Verin clan well, but not because of any reputation Kael might think they had. They were one of her victims in her previous life, a fact she wasn't about to reveal. The Verin clan's wealth and knowledge in talisman making had contributed significantly to her own arsenal of skills and resources back then. However, she had never seen Kael before. He was likely either in hiding during her attack or had perished young before she could get to him.

Kael didn't seem to notice—or perhaps care—that Rinne wasn't interested in the conversation. He probably thought she was a boy, after all. Her current appearance—a young child with short, unkempt hair—was indistinguishable from that of a boy, especially to someone who didn't know her. It wasn't the first time someone had made that assumption, and Rinne wasn't in any hurry to correct him.

Seeing that Rinne wasn't going to respond, Kael shifted the topic.

"I wonder what the third trial will be. Do you have any idea?"

Rinne was silent for a moment, hesitating whether to answer or not.

She looked at the wooden badge they had all been given, turning it over in her hand.

"I don't know, but it must be related to these."

At first glance, there didn't seem to be anything special about this wooden badge, it was just a badge made of wood. But of course, the items distributed by the Immortal Alliance couldn't be ordinary items. It was just that ordinary people didn't know the function of this badge.

Kael furrowed his brow in thought.

"Hmm, maybe they'll make us fight each other to rob the badges? It wouldn't be the first time something like that happened in a trial."

Rinne's gaze flickered, and she pocketed the badge.

"Then we should prepare ourselves and rest."

With that said, she took a meditation stance and closed her eyes.

Kael nodded, his earlier enthusiasm dampened by the realization of what might come.

"You're right. Better to be ready for anything."

Of course, Rinne already knew what would happen in the third trial—she had extracted that information from the memories of others long ago. But it would be far too strange for a beggar to have such knowledge. For now, it was better to play along and maintain the facade.

Chapter 008 - Soul Library

The journey aboard the flying boat lasted two days, the vessel gliding smoothly through the azure skies toward their next destination. Below, the landscape shifted from rolling plains to dense, verdant canopies, hinting at the untamed wilderness that awaited them.

The fasting pills distributed before the second trial continued to suppress hunger and thirst, ensuring that the participants remained focused and sustained throughout the voyage.

During this tranquil interlude, Rinne sought to gather more information about the upcoming third trial.

Finding a quiet corner on the deck, she settled down, closing her eyes and allowing her consciousness to drift into the depths of her mind, and she entered her dream world—a place she had crafted with meticulous detail.

In this dreamscape, she stood before a grand edifice: a towering, labyrinthine library that stretched endlessly in all directions. She had named it the Soul Library.

Towering bookshelves stretched infinitely in all directions, filled with countless tomes that gleamed with ethereal light. Each book represented a collection of memories she had harvested through her Soul Search technique, a repository of knowledge she could access at will.

Here, in the dream world, she could move freely, summoning any memory she wished to examine. Rinne floated effortlessly between the shelves. With a mere thought, she summoned the memory of a certain person—not one of the participants in the trial, but of an elder who had observed the trials for many years.

The elder whose memories she chose to explore was none other than Elder Soryn of the Azure Sky Sect.

A smirk tugged at her lips as she recalled the memory of him, or rather, the moment she had killed him. Her fingers twitched slightly as she remembered the smooth, polished surface of his bald head under her grasp during the Soul Harvest.

'Ah, Elder Soryn... I still remember how smooth your cranium was when I grabbed it during the Soul Harvest. So perfectly round and glossy, like polished marble under my fingertips.'

The memory was amusing, a stark contrast to the stern and dignified image the elder presented to the world. She chuckled softly, the sound echoing through the silent expanse of the library.

'Who would have thought such a revered figure could provide such... tactile satisfaction?'

She thought, her amusement lingering as she opened the book.

Pages turned rapidly before her eyes as she delved into Elder Soryn's experiences, specifically focusing on the details of the third trial during Roran's recruitment year. Scenes unfolded in intricate detail—the layout of the trial grounds, the challenges faced, the strategies employed by successful participants. Every nuance was captured within these memories, offering Rinne a comprehensive understanding far beyond what any participant could hope to glean.

Time seemed to stretch and compress in the Soul Library. What felt like hours of study in the dream world passed in mere moments in the waking world. However, her head throbbed slightly as she accessed the vast amount of information—her current body still struggled to handle the mental strain of such intense memory retrieval.

Rinne winced, pressing a hand to her forehead as the pain throbbed persistently.

'Seems like my current body isn't quite up to par yet, Accessing so much information at once is still taxing.'

Closing the tome, she allowed it to dissolve back into the air, the vast shelves of the library receding as she gently pulled herself out of the dreamscape. Her eyes fluttered open to the warm glow of the setting sun casting long shadows across the deck.

She sighed softly, massaging her temples to alleviate the lingering discomfort, gazing out at the horizon where the sky met the dense expanse of forest below.

'Originally, I planned to start quietly as a mere handyman, but opportunities arise in the most unexpected ways... Well, no use complaining. I'll just have to adjust. And this time, in a good way.'

A faint smile played on her lips as she leaned back, allowing herself to drift into genuine, restful sleep this time, her mind and body recuperating in anticipation of the trials ahead.

♠♠♠

 

The morning of the third day dawned crisp and clear as the flying boat began its descent toward a sprawling, ancient woodland known as the Eldergrove Forest.

The dense canopy stretched as far as the eye could see, the trees towering and interwoven, exuding an aura of mystery and latent power. As the boat docked onto a sturdy wooden platform at the forest's edge, a flurry of activity ensued. Participants stirred from their rest, gathering their belongings and preparing to disembark.

"It's about time, are you ready, Rin?"

Kael approached Rinne, his expression a mixture of excitement and nervousness. He remarked, while adjusting the strap of his satchel.

"Probably,"

Rinne stretched languidly as she replied calmly, her gaze sweeping over the bustling deck.

Seemingly reassured by her demeanor, Kael reached into his pouch and pulled out a small bundle of talismans, offering them to her. The thin parchment squares were inscribed with intricate symbols that glowed faintly with embedded power.

He then placed five Fireball Talismans into her palm.

"Here, take these... I only brought a few with me, so sorry if the number is a bit small."

Rinne examined the talismans closely, her fingers tracing the delicate lines of the inscriptions. A frown subtly creased her brow as she realized something crucial—these talismans required a minimum cultivation level of the 1st Level of Spirit Gathering stage to activate.

For her, who hadn't even begun cultivating, these talismans were practically useless. Kael had either forgotten this small detail or perhaps assumed she had already reached that level.

'He probably forgot, or assumed I've made more progress than I have, But there's no need to mention it.'

She slipped the talismans into her pouch without a word, offering Kael a polite smile.

"Thank you, I hope for our success."

Kael grinned, seemingly encouraged by her words.

"We'll make it through, I'm sure."

As the boat docked, the participants from Elaria Town gathered and prepared to disembark. However, as they stepped onto the platform, it became clear just how few they were. Other boats, arriving from various directions, carried hundreds of participants—some over two hundred, others just above a hundred. By comparison, their group of thirty seemed pitifully small.

Rinne could feel the disdainful glances from the other participants, their silent sneers almost palpable. They likely saw the small number of participants from Elaria Town as a sign of weakness, an easy target for bullying.

She sighed softly. Fortunately, the third trial was not a group competition; otherwise, their small numbers would have been a severe disadvantage.

An elder, different from the one who had announced the previous trials, arrived at the scene. His presence commanded attention as he addressed the gathered participants.

"Welcome, esteemed participants, to the third trial,"

He began, his gaze sweeping over the assembled masses.

"This trial is straightforward: survive within Eldergrove Forest for one week and collect as many Spiritual Beast Cores as you can. To aid you, each participant will be lent a low-grade spatial bag to store the cores. However, the use of any other spatial bag is forbidden."

The elder's expression grew stern as he continued,

"Each of you has been issued a Wooden Token. This token is your lifeline. It generates an invisible barrier that offers protection up to a certain threshold. Should you sustain injuries or attacks exceeding this threshold, the token will activate and teleport you back to this platform. Additionally, after the week concludes, all tokens will automatically return you here."

He paused, his gaze hardening.

"However, should you lose your token, your life cannot be guaranteed. Exercise caution."

A ripple of unease passed through the crowd at his words.

It turned out that the seemingly ordinary wooden badge they received had an important function in keeping their lives safe during this trial. The elder had emphasized the importance of the wooden badge and the dire consequences of losing it.

Kael exhaled slowly beside Rinne, relief evident in his posture.

"At least we don't have to fight each other, and our lives are safe."

But Rinne shook her head, her expression serious.

"Not really, the elder never said we couldn't rob others, nor did he mention any punishment for killing,"

Kael's eyes widened, his earlier relief replaced by apprehension.

The wooden badge could ensure that their lives would not be lost during this trial, but it did not protect them from theft or robbery. If the wooden badge was stolen or taken by force from its owner, there would be no guarantee of its owner's safety until the trial was over.

"You think others might…?"

He didn't need to finish his words, both of them already understood.

Rinne replied evenly.

"It's possible, best to be prepared."

Kael nodded slowly, digesting her words with a newfound seriousness.

Participants began to queue up, receiving their spatial bags and proceeding toward an array of Teleportation Circles etched into the ground. Each circle glowed with arcane symbols, ready to disperse individuals randomly throughout the vast forest.

As their turn approached, Kael offered Rinne a tentative smile.

"Stay safe out there, Rin."

"See you later."

She met his gaze, offering a slight nod.

Stepping into the circle, Rinne felt a surge of energy envelop her, a brief sensation of weightlessness overtaking her senses. In an instant, the platform and bustling crowd vanished, replaced by the dense, earthy atmosphere of Eldergrove Forest.

She landed softly amidst towering trees and dense underbrush, the sounds of distant wildlife echoing around her. The air was cool and damp, filled with the rich scents of moss and loam.

Rinne took a moment to orient herself, her sharp eyes scanning the surroundings for immediate threats. Satisfied that she was alone for the moment, she exhaled calmly.

Unlike many others, she felt no trepidation entering this trial.

The conditions of this test were simple. As long as she did not lose her token, then her goal had been achieved. Even if she ended up with zero spirit beast cores, or was teleported out before the week was up, her position as an outer disciple would still be secure.

Chapter 009 - Verdant Meridian Pill

The thick canopy of the Eldergrove Forest broke the sunlight into scattered patches on the ground below.

Towering trees with twisted roots stretched high, their branches weaving together like a natural roof over Rinne's head. The air smelled of wet soil, moss, and faint traces of wildflowers. It didn't take Rinne long to pinpoint her location within the forest.

With the memories she'd taken from Elder Soryn, she had pieced together a detailed map of the area. Comparing landmarks came easily, and soon, she recognized a distinct rock formation—a unique feature in this part of Eldergrove. It was enough to confirm where she stood.

"Good. I'm not lost,"

Now that her position was clear, Rinne began planning her next steps.

There was no need to worry about food. The fasting pill she took before the second trial kept her hunger at bay and would continue to do so for the rest of the trial. Technically, she could sit idle for the week and still pass as an outer disciple. But since she had time, she might as well make use of it.

The first two days went into gathering herbs and poisons. Eldergrove was filled with medicinal plants, and Rinne's sharp eye easily identified the most useful ones. Her hands moved swiftly and carefully as she collected herbs, leaving as little disturbance behind as possible. Once gathered, she processed them with precision.

Using simple alchemical methods, she crafted several poisons—some deadly, others meant to paralyze or cause intense discomfort. As she ground a toxic herb into powder, she thought.

'Well, it's better safe than sorry.'

With a mortal body like hers, direct combat was out of the question. She might know advanced martial techniques, but her muscles weren't trained for them. If she tried anything too demanding, she'd risk pulling a tendon or worse. Even more limiting was the absence of spiritual energy. Many of her techniques required it, so she fell back on what she knew best—traps and poisons.

Some might call her methods dishonorable, but she didn't care. They worked.

As she prepared her supplies, her mind wandered to a larger issue: spiritual roots. Without spiritual roots, she couldn't progress in cultivation. Her knowledge included many unconventional methods for acquiring them, but each came with risks.

She'd already tried Gu cultivation once, but the experience left her teetering on the edge of death—a risk she wasn't eager to take again.

Another option was transplanting someone else's spiritual roots, but that was a delicate and dangerous procedure. It wasn't something she could do on her own. Even if she managed to get someone else's roots, rejection was a real possibility, like her heart problem in a different form. The thought of enduring constant pain during cultivation was not appealing.

Alchemy seemed like her best bet. Creating her own spiritual roots with a carefully crafted pill was far safer than any of the other options. The process would take time and resources, but it was manageable.

Among the countless recipes she knew, one stood out: the Verdant Meridian Pill. This pill could convert a person's meridians into wood-attributed spiritual roots—a necessary step toward advancing her cultivation. However, the materials needed for the pill were rare, almost impossible to find in her current circumstances.

She mentally listed the ingredients:

Thousand-Year Green Lotus:

A lotus that had absorbed the essence of nature for a millennium, highly potent in wood energy.Jade-Leaf Vine: 

A mystical vine thriving in areas dense with wood elemental energy, for stabilizing and harmonizing meridian transformations.Emerald Heart Ginseng: 

A ginseng plant nurtured in wood-attributed soil for centuries, containing immense vitality and healing properties.Verdant Soul Sap: 

A drop of sap from the Sacred Verdant Tree, imbued with pure wood essence.Evergreen Pearl Mushroom: 

A mushroom that grows in the shade of ancient trees, filled with concentrated wood spiritual energy.Rinne sighed. None of these ingredients was lying around there.

Luckily, the knowledge she absorbed through soul search didn't just include memories—it also held insights from other cultivators. One of those insights involved material substitution: using more common ingredients to mimic the effects of rare ones, as long as they were gathered in large enough quantities to match the required potency.

After going over her mental library of recipes, Rinne devised an alternative version of the Verdant Meridian Pill.

Hundred-Year Spirit Grass(Substitute for Thousand-Year Green Lotus): 

While not as potent, it could be harvested in larger quantities to match the required wood energy.

— Quantity Required: 15 stalks of Hundred-Year Spirit Grass.Ironbark Creeper (Substitute for Jade-Leaf Vine): 

A vine commonly found in dense forests, containing a moderate amount of wood elemental energy.

— Quantity Required: 20 meters of Ironbark Creeper.Mountain Root Ginseng (Substitute for Emerald Heart Ginseng): 

A ginseng plant found in mountainous regions, with decent vitality properties.

— Quantity Required: 105 plants, each at least 15 years old.Wood Essence Resin (Substitute for Verdant Soul Sap): 

Resin extracted from trees with a strong wood elemental affinity, though less pure.

— Quantity Required: 250 drops of Wood Essence Resin.Mossy Cap Fungus (Substitute for Evergreen Pearl Mushroom):

A fungus that grows on the bark of ancient trees, holding wood energy, though less concentrated.

— Quantity Required: 48 Mossy Cap Fungus.She quickly decided, her mind already racing with the next steps.

"I'll have to do with these,"

If the trial had taken place in volcanic mountains, she would have chosen fire-attributed roots instead. But since the forest was rich with wood energy, this was the most practical choice.

Gathering materials was one thing, but storing them properly was another. To preserve their potency, Rinne needed containers, and she had no time to waste.

Using a knife scavenged from a junkyard, she cut bamboo and carved out small bottles for the resin. She also whittled logs into makeshift wooden boxes to store the other ingredients. Her hands moved with practiced efficiency, muscle memory guiding her every motion. In just a few hours, the containers were ready.

The low-grade spatial bag she carried solved the problem of transporting everything.

By the time the sun began to set, the forest shifted into twilight. Shadows lengthened, and the air grew cooler. Rinne found a small clearing surrounded by thick undergrowth, a natural barrier against curious animals. She set a few simple traps around the area, more to ward off pests than anything dangerous, and settled in for the night.

♠♠♠

 

On the second day, Rinne continued her methodical gathering of herbs and poisons.

The day unfolded much like the first, with her carefully selecting and storing ingredients essential for her future alchemical work. The forest thrived with creatures—wolves, snakes, rhinoceroses, and other low-level spiritual beasts—but none dared approach her. She had already sprinkled her clothes with a mixture of herbs that gave off a scent repulsive to beasts, ensuring her safety.

As she glided silently through the underbrush, Rinne spotted several participants scattered throughout the forest. Most were strangers, not from Elaria Town, and she knew better than to reveal herself. Each time she noticed someone drawing near, she quickly hid, hiding behind dense foliage or scaling the nearest tree with the ease of someone used to evading sight.

Rinne watched as some of the participants teamed up, forming temporary alliances to hunt spiritual beasts. She observed one such group from her hiding spot, concealed behind a thick cluster of leaves. Two boys and a girl were quietly discussing their strategy.

"Focus on its legs first! If we cripple it, the fight will be over before it begins."

The leader's voice was calm, yet carried an air of command, as if he was used to issuing orders.

His sharp eyes darted to the clearing where the spiritual beast, a large horned wolf. The tension in his stance revealed the weight of responsibility, knowing one misstep could put them all in danger.

"Got it, I'll circle around and attack from the back. Be ready."

The girl adjusted the grip on her curved dagger, her voice low but confident. She gave her teammates a curt nod, her determined expression framed by sweat-matted strands of hair. As soon as the leader gestured, she silently disappeared into the surrounding foliage, her steps light and purposeful.

"I'll create a barrier if it charges. Just be quick." 

The second boy held up a glowing talisman with both hands, his fingers trembling slightly. He muttered under his breath, calming his nerves as wisps of spiritual energy gathered around the talisman's surface. Though he spoke with resolve, the flicker of anxiety in his eyes betrayed his inexperience, making it clear he was relying heavily on the protection his talisman offered.

The trio moved in unison, like a well-oiled machine. The girl dashed behind the wolf, striking its hind legs with swift precision, forcing the beast to stumble. At the same moment, the leader lunged forward, his spear aimed at the wolf's exposed side. The talisman user stayed at a distance, his focus trained on the wolf's movements. Whenever the beast tried to counter, a shimmering barrier sprang to life, stopping the creature's attacks in their tracks.

Within moments, the horned wolf was incapacitated, its large body crumpling to the ground with a thud.

"Good work! This should be enough to get us through."

The leader gave a rare smile as he bent down to extract the beast core. It glimmered faintly in the dim light of the forest, a coveted prize that could significantly improve their chances of success. The three exchanged satisfied glances, the camaraderie between them evident in the way they moved and spoke.

Rinne remained absolutely still as they passed by her hiding spot, their chatter fading into the distance. She watched them leave with an impassive expression, the faint sounds of their steps blending into the rustle of leaves.

'Trust is a luxury I can't afford.'

She thought bitterly, the sight stirring memories of alliances forged out of necessity, only to end in betrayal. Once she confirmed that the trio was gone, she slipped silently from her hiding place, moving toward the discarded wolf carcass.

They had only taken the core, leaving behind the beast's body—a wealth of usable materials wasted.

Rinne crouched beside the remains, her hands working swiftly to extract valuable components: sharp teeth, fur with spiritual properties, and a small pouch of blood that could be used for poisons.

This scene repeated several times throughout the day. Many participants discarded valuable remains, focused solely on the beast cores. Each time, Rinne quietly collected the remnants, steadily filling her spatial bag with useful materials.

As the sun dipped lower, Rinne stumbled upon a different, more unsettling encounter. She was perched on a tree branch, scouting the area, when the sound of hurried footsteps and labored breathing reached her ears. Peering through the foliage, she spotted a lone boy sprinting through the forest, clutching a low-grade spatial bag to his chest. His face was pale with fear.

Behind him, another boy emerged—taller, broader, and moving with the deliberate ease of someone confident in their victory. His smirk was cruel, his eyes gleaming with malice as he closed the distance between them.

"Give it up! You can't outrun me!"

The bandit boy's taunt rang through the forest, filled with smug amusement. His pace remained steady, as if savoring the thrill of the chase. He knew he didn't need to hurry—his prey was already worn down.

"Please, just let me go! I need this!"

The fleeing boy's voice cracked with desperation.

His grip on the spatial bag tightened, knuckles turning white, as if the small pouch was the last shred of hope he had. He stumbled over a root but managed to keep his footing, though it was clear he wouldn't last much longer.

The bandit only laughed, a harsh sound that echoed in the quiet forest.

"Need? What you need is to learn your place. Hand it over, and maybe I'll let you leave with your limbs intact."

His voice was calm, almost conversational, as though he was discussing the weather rather than threatening someone's life. The victim hesitated, his gaze flickering between his pursuer and the forest path ahead.

The victim hesitated for a moment, then, with a defeated sigh, tossed the bag toward his pursuer. The bandit snatched it, a triumphant sneer spreading across his face as he checked its contents.

"Good choice. Now get lost before I change my mind."

The victim staggered away, crushed and humiliated. The robber didn't spare him a second glance, more interested in the spoils he had claimed.

Rinne's eyes followed the boy as he disappeared into the trees. The forest was merciless, and weakness invited exploitation. She stayed hidden, letting the bandit leave before descending silently from her perch.

By dusk, Rinne had gathered everything she needed for the Verdant Meridian Pill.

The materials were safely stowed in her spatial bag, and her focus shifted to finding shelter for the night. Darkness crept in, bringing with it the sounds of nocturnal creatures stirring.

Navigating the dense forest, Rinne made her way to a small cave tucked behind a waterfall. She had scouted the area earlier, memorizing the path in preparation. The waterfall concealed the entrance perfectly, and she knew that this cave would remain hidden from the prying eyes.

She knew that the interior of this cave would remain unseen by the mirror viewing platformdue to the way it functioned. The platform relied on a spiritual bird's vision that spread across the trial site, but these birds couldn't enter the cave, allowing her a unique sanctuary away from the eyes of others.

Once inside, she let out a breath she didn't realize she had been holding. The darkness was comforting, wrapping around her like a protective shroud. Here, away from the gaze of participants and overseers, she was free to think and plan.

'Finally, a moment of solitude.'

The immediate task of gathering materials was complete, but a new challenge presented itself—the pill-making process. Rinne had the knowledge and skill, but she lacked an essential tool: an alchemy cauldron. Even worse, without cultivation, she couldn't ignite a fire, which was necessary to refine the ingredients.

Her mind raced with potential solutions.

'If there's no cauldron, I'll make one. And if I can't start a fire, there's always the fireball talisman... though triggering it might take some trick.'

The thought of creating the pill right here, right now, was tempting. The sooner it was made, the sooner she could use it to enhance herself. Yet hesitation gnawed at her.

Is it worth the risk? What if I ruin the materials?

She bit her lip, torn between acting immediately and waiting for a safer opportunity.

If she could join a sect, she'd have access to proper alchemical equipment, drastically improving her success rate. But time was precious, and waiting meant wasted opportunity. After a long moment of deliberation, she made a decision.

'I'll build the cauldron first. If it works, I'll try making the pill. If not, I'll wait until I can access better tools.'

With her resolve firm, Rinne began laying out the materials she would need to construct a makeshift cauldron. This was a temporary solution, but it was enough to give her options. She couldn't afford carelessness, but neither could she afford inaction.

The night stretched on, and with each passing moment, she worked with quiet determination. Time, as always, was against her—but Rinne was no stranger to making the most of every second.