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Chapter 11 - Mysterious Ruins appeard

A great unease pondered over the land and charged with life, standing between the Tianlong Kingdom and the Hongye Empire. Tall, dark, ancient, as if revealing new ruins stood about a rugged landscape, spreading shadows of shadows within itself. The stones had the quality that guarded deep, secret stories. There they said ancient tales of power as well as immortality were heard.

Cultivators from distant lands headed to the site, believing hidden treasures lay inside the ruins. Renowned sect leaders gathered eagerly with glinting eyes, their challenges ready for them to face. But as they gathered, an unspoken dread settled on a silent warning that these ruins were unlike anything they had ever encountered. 

A powerful formation surrounded the ruins and pulsed with intricate patterns that glowed like embers in the fading light. Scholars and mages pored over ancient scrolls, seeking to decipher the strange carvings, but frustration built as their efforts failed to unlock the secrets. Innumerable brave cultivators had stepped forward, intent on breaking through until an invisible wall repelled even their most potent energies.

Anticipation thickened as the first group of cultivators stepped forward. They formed a circle, hands raised, energies intertwining in a dazzling show of light. The ground trembled as their power surged toward the formation, and a deep rumble echoed through the hills. An unseen force swept over them, flinging them aside like leaves in a storm. They fell back, stunned and breathless, their confidence shattered by the ruin's raw, unyielding power.

Rumors spread fast in the crowd. Some said they heard voices at midnight and ghostly whispers calling them. Others mentioned visions—shadowy figures standing guard at the entrance with stern and watchful faces.

Weeks turned into months, and people became impatient. Year in, year out, they kept coming back, each more determined than the last but to no avail: they still had questions that needed answers. Heads of the prominent cults came, their brows knotted in concern. The most senior immortals, with unparalleled power, were unable to breach the walls of this place.

Finally, they decided that access would be closed until they could find a way of breaking the barrier. The place was left a mystery, with the ruins holding the dying hopes. They agreed to go back each year, awaiting a day when the secrets would finally come out of the ruins.

Yet, deep down, the elders felt an unspoken truth. The ruins felt alive as if testing them, measuring their resolve and intentions. It was as though the stones awaited someone special, someone with the key to unlock their depths.

The wind whispered through the distant forests, carrying secrets, only the brave could listen to. Branches swayed over as if whispering whispers to one another, an added sense that the ground itself was watching and waiting.

As the moon rose high, a silver beacon in the sky, the sect leaders retreated to their camps. The ruins stood silently, dark and foreboding—a promise and a challenge. Each cultivator's heart beat in rhythm with the ancient stones, driven by a shared hope that defied every setback.

And thus started the cycle. Year after year brought fresh attempts and a few years passed by, each with more failures. Still, hope clung to it like a moth on a flame that neither died nor flickered out. The ruins stood as something more than relics-they were a puzzle being called out to those who dared to answer. As the dawn of the next year approached, whispers of a new plan rippled through the camps. Each cultivator carried within them the hope of breaking through, believing that destiny waited within the ancient stones. They knew the true test lay ahead and that the ruins would not stay silent forever. Elders in Eldenwood announced something for townspeople and future aspiring cultivators.