Ragon paced slowly on the platform, his thoughts swirling like a storm. He recalled his experiences so far—the struggles, the breakthroughs, the pain of forging his Spiritual Sea, and the chaos of refining his divine energy.
Balance… he thought. What kept me alive through all of this? What allowed me to keep moving forward without falling apart?
He stopped pacing and turned to face Ashar, his eyes sharp with realization.
"Balance," Ragon began, his voice steady, "is the harmony between the three pillars of cultivation: the physical body, the spiritual energy, and the mental will."
Ashar remained silent, his expression unreadable.
Ragon continued, his confidence growing. "The body is the vessel, the foundation that anchors us to the world. Without a strong body, the spiritual energy has no home, and the mind cannot act."
He raised his hand, gesturing toward the shimmering void around them. "The spirit is the energy that fuels our power, the connection to the higher realms. Without refined spiritual energy, the body remains mundane, and the mind lacks the means to manifest its will."
Finally, Ragon tapped his temple. "And the mind… the mind is the guide. It directs the body and spirit, uniting them with purpose. Without a clear mind, the body falters, and the spirit runs wild."
He took a deep breath, his voice firm. "To ascend without self-destruction, one must harmonize all three. The body must be strengthened, the spirit refined, and the mind disciplined. Only when they work together can a cultivator face the trials of higher realms."
The platform was silent. Ragon could feel his heartbeat in his ears as he waited for Ashar's response.
The monk's lips slowly curled into a faint smile. "An impressive answer, Ragon. But tell me this: what happens when one of the three pillars falters? What is the cultivator's duty in such a moment?"
Ragon's eyes widened slightly. He hadn't expected a follow-up. He thought for a moment before replying.
"When one pillar falters," he said, his tone thoughtful, "the other two must compensate. If the body weakens, the mind and spirit must guide it to recovery. If the spirit becomes unstable, the body and mind must anchor it. And if the mind falters…"
He paused, clenching his fists. "Then the body and spirit must endure until the mind finds its way again. A cultivator's duty is to adapt, to find balance even in imbalance. That is the only way to survive and move forward."
Ashar's glowing form dimmed slightly as he chuckled, "You have wisdom beyond your years, Ragon. Your understanding of the question is far more shocking than I ever expected. Answering this correctly alone proves that there is nothing further I need to examine. You have successfully passed the test and earned my legacy."
Ashar smiled and extended his palm. A moment later, he snapped his fingers.
Immediately, an overwhelming aura began to swirl around Ragon. He felt as though he were being transported to another realm. In his mind, countless words and symbols appeared, as if an entire library was being downloaded directly into his memory.
As this happened, Ashar's voice echoed around him, though Ragon could no longer see the monk.
"What you are experiencing now is everything I learned throughout my journey on Earth," Ashar explained. "My chosen path was the Path of the Mind—one of the most challenging principles to master."
In cultivation, every individual specialized in a specific path or principle beyond their primary attribute as a warrior or mage. These principles, or disciplines, ranged from archery to swordsmanship to elemental manipulation.
The Mind Principle was one of the rarest and most difficult principles, often studied by monks due to its demanding nature and the mental discipline it required.
Ashar's voice continued, "It may take you weeks, months, or even years to comprehend what is now running through your mind. How quickly you grasp it depends entirely on your body's attributes and your mental resilience."
Before Ashar could finish his explanation, Ragon suddenly interrupted with a loud exclamation.
"I'm done," Ragon declared, his eyes wide as he stared directly at where Ashar's voice seemed to originate.
Ashar froze, his phantom form flickering momentarily. "What did you say?" he asked, incredulous.
"I'm done," Ragon repeated, his voice steady.
Ashar stared at him, utterly dumbfounded. "That is… unbelievable. Is this young man still human?" he muttered to himself. He didn't want to believe it, but the truth was undeniable. If Ragon had truly finished processing the memories, there was no way he could have spoken otherwise.
"You were saying?" Ragon asked casually, folding his arms and smirking, clearly enjoying Ashar's shock.
"Nothing," Ashar replied flatly, realizing Ragon was deliberately baiting him.
"So," Ragon said, examining himself, "what happens next? Because I don't feel any different. Are you sure your legacy is even going to benefit me? To be honest, I think those puppets of yours were more useful than this whole memory transfer."
Ashar's phantom flickered violently as though he were about to cough up blood, though his ghostly form rendered it impossible.
"Foolish boy!" Ashar snapped. "How can you compare a lifetime of training and knowledge to mere puppets? Of course, you will reap immense benefits from the memories I've imparted to you. But those benefits will not be immediate. Your body isn't strong enough to fully process even half of what's now in your mind. If you try to access it recklessly, your entire body could rupture from the strain."
Ashar sighed, shaking his head. "I may have just given my legacy to someone simultaneously brilliant and insufferable."
Ragon shrugged, unimpressed. "Oh, so if your memory dump isn't going to give me any immediate power boosts, I assume you have other treasures set aside, right? Because, let's be honest, I told you from the beginning I didn't care much for the legacy anyway."
Ashar's ghostly form visibly sagged with exasperation. "This…" He opened his mouth to rebuke Ragon but stopped himself. "You know what? Fine. I'm done arguing with you."
He gestured toward the far end of the chamber. With a snap of his fingers, a door appeared in the wall behind Ragon, slowly creaking open to reveal a hidden room.
"There. Take what you want," Ashar said with a tired wave of his hand.
Ragon's eyes lit up as he licked his lips. "Now, this is what I truly came for!" he exclaimed, striding eagerly toward the door.
As Ragon disappeared into the treasure room, Ashar floated silently for a moment, shaking his head. "He's insufferable," Ashar muttered to himself. "But perhaps… that arrogance will take him further than I ever imagined."