Zhen Hao had learned that the Forgotten Lands were not a place of easy answers or simple trials. Every step forward was a test of his very essence, forcing him to confront the truth behind his curse. The trial of shadows had shown him his past in the most painful way possible. He had endured worse before.
Still, the trial had left its mark. He could feel the weight of his memories pressing on him, the guilt a constant companion. And the more he thought about it, the more it seemed like the Forgotten Lands had a much deeper purpose than just punishing him—it was trying to show him something.
As he ventured deeper into the land, the world around him grew darker. The air grew thick with oppressive energy, and the faintest whispers of something ancient and powerful lingered in the corners of his mind. Zhen Hao was not alone here.
In the distance, he saw a flicker of light, faint but steady, cutting through the darkness like a beacon. Instinctively, he moved toward it, his every step deliberate.
The closer he got, the more the whispers grew louder. At first, they were unintelligible, just fragments of words, but as he neared the source of the light, they began to form sentences.
"You seek the Soul Rebirth," a voice murmured, a deep, reverberating tone that seemed to emanate from the very ground beneath him. "But do you understand the price?"
Zhen Hao halted in his tracks. The light ahead was growing brighter now, revealing a massive stone altar, covered in intricate runes. Atop it sat an ancient relic—a crystal, glowing with an eerie, pulsating light.
The voice continued, its tone now laced with a hint of mocking amusement. "The power you seek will not come without sacrifice. Immortality comes at a cost—one that even you may not be prepared to pay."
Zhen Hao stepped forward, his gaze fixed on the crystal. He knew what it was. The Soul Rebirth was said to reside within such relics—an ancient power capable of altering the very nature of life and death.
"I've already paid enough," he said, his voice low and steady. "I will pay whatever it takes."
The ground trembled beneath him as the voice responded with a sinister laugh.
"Then you are truly ready to face the price, Zhen Hao. The cost of immortality is not just death, but the sacrifice of all you hold dear. The question is, will you still desire it once you understand the true cost?"
Zhen Hao stepped forward, his hand reaching for the crystal. As his fingers brushed against its surface, a surge of energy coursed through him, and a vision erupted in his mind.
He saw himself—older, wiser, but alone. The world around him was in ruins, and those he had once loved and fought for were gone. The immortality he sought had not brought him peace, but endless suffering. The crystal pulsed with energy, and the vision faded.
Zhen Hao stood still, his breath shallow, his mind still reeling from the vision the crystal had shown him. The image of a future drenched in loneliness, where the world crumbled under the weight of immortality, haunted him. He had always sought the Soul Rebirth to end the curse of eternal life, but now... now he wasn't so sure.
The crystal before him pulsed with a steady rhythm, its glow faintly illuminating the altar. There was power in this relic, ancient and immeasurable, but the cost was too high—far too high. What kind of world would be left if he continued on this path?
He turned away from the altar, his decision made. He couldn't seek the Soul Rebirth if it meant the end of everything he had fought for. He would leave this place and return to the world, finding another way to escape the prison of immortality.
But as he turned, a cold, disembodied voice echoed through the cavernous space, sending a chill down his spine.
"Leaving so soon, Zhen Hao?"
The voice was ancient, filled with the weight of centuries. It seemed to come from all around him, filling the air, as though the very walls themselves were speaking.
Zhen Hao spun around, his hand instinctively going to the hilt of his sword. The light around him flickered as a massive, ethereal figure emerged from the shadows. It was a being of pure energy, glowing with a bright, white light, its features indistinct yet powerful. Its presence exuded an overwhelming sense of authority.
"You are not the first to stand before this relic," the being continued, its voice deep and resonant. "Many before you have sought the Soul Rebirth. Some have succeeded, but at a cost they could never have imagined."
Zhen Hao narrowed his eyes. "And who are you to judge me? Are you another one of the gods that created this curse?"
The being's form flickered, as if amused by his question. "I am no god, mortal. I am one of the Ancients, those who existed long before the Immortals or the gods you know. We were the first to cultivate the arts of immortality, and we paid a price greater than you could ever imagine."
Zhen Hao's mind raced. He had heard of the Ancients—beings who were said to have transcended mortality long before the modern age of cultivation began. They were the ones who created the foundation of immortality and its many hidden consequences. Their knowledge was supposed to be lost, but here, standing before him, was living proof that they had once walked the earth.
"Then you know what the price is," Zhen Hao said, his voice steady despite the growing tension. "You know how much it costs to seek immortality. Why did you come here? What do you want from me?"
The Ancient paused, its form shimmering with a deep, almost sorrowful light. "I come to warn you, Zhen Hao. The price of immortality is not simply in the lives you destroy along the way, but in the very nature of your soul. Those who seek to break the cycle will find that they are not free; they are condemned to become part of it. The Soul Rebirth will not save you—it will change you."
Zhen Hao clenched his fists. The vision he had seen earlier, the one of desolation and endless suffering, came back to him, sharper than ever. He had thought the Soul Rebirth could bring him peace, but now he wasn't sure. Would he truly escape immortality's curse, or would he become something even worse—something beyond redemption?
"What is the true cost, then?" he demanded. "If immortality is truly a curse, what is left for me? What path do I walk?"
The Ancient's voice softened, a hint of sadness creeping into its tone. "You must choose, Zhen Hao. The path of the Soul Rebirth is one of destruction. But there is another way—a way that lies not in defying death, but in accepting it."
Zhen Hao stared at the being, confusion and doubt swirling in his chest. "And what would that path be?"
"You will find that answer in the deepest reaches of the Forgotten Lands," the Ancient replied, its voice fading. "But beware, Zhen Hao. The path is fraught with dangers, and it will demand sacrifices you cannot fathom. Choose wisely."
The figure of the Ancient flickered and disappeared, leaving Zhen Hao alone in the cold darkness. The light from the crystal seemed to dim, as if the very air was holding its breath. He was no closer to his goal, no closer to understanding what he truly sought.