After the battle, Shenlong settled under a large tree to rest, his mind filled with thoughts of the pendant. The moment he had felt its power surge, he knew that there was more to it than just an artifact. Its purpose, its origins—they were mysteries waiting to be unraveled, yet the more he probed, the more he sensed that he was only scratching the surface.
Suddenly, he felt a pulse from the pendant, as though it were resonating with his thoughts. Images flashed before his eyes—visions of towering mountains, celestial dragons, and ancient temples lost to time. He saw figures robed in traditional garments, practicing martial arts in harmony with nature, each move flowing like water yet imbued with immense power.
One figure in particular stood out: a man with a regal bearing and piercing eyes, standing atop a mountain, his robes billowing in the wind. His gaze was sharp, intense, as if he were staring directly at Shenlong. "The path you seek will be fraught with challenges," the figure spoke, his voice echoing within Shenlong's mind. "But remember, only those who endure the trials of body and spirit shall reach the summit."
Shenlong's vision began to fade, but before it vanished entirely, the figure's final words lingered. "You carry our legacy, young one. Protect it, grow with it, and one day, you will uncover the truth of your origin."