Shenlong opened his eyes, still seated beneath the tree, his heart pounding from the intensity of the vision. This man, this ancient cultivator, was undoubtedly tied to his pendant—and perhaps to his own mysterious origins. He felt the weight of his duty more than ever, and the vast potential that lay within him seemed clearer now.
Determined, he resumed his journey up the mountain, eager to continue his training and push his limits even further. He was no longer the lost boy the clan had mocked; he was walking a path carved by his ancestors, guided by their wisdom and empowered by their legacy.
As Shenlong moved higher up the mountain, the air grew dense with spiritual energy, creating a swirling mist that blanketed the trail ahead. He sensed an unusual force emanating from within it—a peculiar energy that seemed to seep into his mind, blurring the line between reality and illusion.