The stone walls of the main palace hall rose into the dim vault above, ancient and silent. Fang Lin stood in the center of the courtyard, his breath misting in the cool air of the Myriad Halls Legacy Mansion. Beside him, the Elderly Mansion Spirit stood with his hands tucked into his long sleeves, his eyes reflecting the soft white light that glowed from the stone pillars.
"The gap of the Core Formation is a true divide, successor," the spirit said, his voice echoing in the vast space. "Ordinary cultivators believe that breaking through from the Spirit Foundation to the Core Formation is merely a matter of compressing Qi into a core. But they do not understand that the true strength of a core lies in the foundation that bears it. To face Late Core Formation experts with your current Spirit Foundation requires more than just dense Qi. It requires a body and meridians that can withstand their Core Force without breaking."
Fang Lin bowed slightly. "I understand, Senior. My true cultivation is at the Peak Middle Spirit Foundation, but my energy reserve is too small. If I am forced into a prolonged battle against multiple Core Formation experts, my Qi will run dry. I need to push my strength to a level where I can end battles quickly and survive their pressure."
The Mansion Spirit nodded, a faint smile playing on his ancient face. "Indeed. Therefore, you must temper your foundation under extreme conditions. The Myriad Halls has a training chamber that can help you. I will activate the Yin-Cold Abyssal Valley. It is a simulated environment of high pressure, gravity, and elemental trials."
He gestured toward a massive bronze door at the end of the hall, which began to hum with deep runic light.
"I will set the time dilation to a five-fold ratio," the spirit continued. "You will spend one month of the outside world's time inside the chamber, which will translate to exactly five months of subjective training for you. However, there is a condition."
Fang Lin looked at the spirit. "A condition?"
"The inheritance trials are designed to test the successor's own path," the Mansion Spirit said solemnly. "You carry the Ancient Spatial Furnace and a flame companion of great power. But during this trial, you may not use the furnace or the spirit to fight your battles. If the chamber senses any direct offensive force from the furnace or the flame spirit, the trial will immediately suspend itself, and you will gain nothing. You must rely entirely on your own sword, your own body, and your own arts."
Within his spiritual sea, the embers inside the Ancient Spatial Furnace flared. The Dark Flame Spirit's voice erupted in his mind, sharp and pouting.
"Che! That old man is so stingy! I could have melted those simulated toys to ashes in seconds! Who cares about his stupid chamber anyway? But fine, Loud-Boy, you are on your own. I will just sit here and watch you get beaten up. Don't come crying to me when your bones start cracking!"
Fang Lin offered a quiet, dry mental reply. "It is better this way. Real battle strength cannot be borrowed. If I rely on your fire to fight my battles, my own path will stagnate."
"Hmph! At least you have some backbone," the spirit muttered, though she settled back into the coals, her tiny crimson form folding her arms in mock annoyance.
Fang Lin turned back to the Mansion Spirit, saluting with cupped hands. "I accept the trial, Senior."
"Good. Step inside, successor. Let us see how much weight your path can bear."
Fang Lin walked toward the bronze door. As he stepped through the glowing runic barrier, the light of the main hall vanished, replaced by a sudden, heavy darkness.
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The air was freezing.
Fang Lin found himself standing at the bottom of a massive, dark canyon. The walls of the abyss rose hundreds of feet on either side, carved from jagged black stone that seemed to absorb what little light filtered down from the murky grey sky above.
Before he could take a step, a massive, crushing weight descended upon him.
The gravity in the valley was ten times stronger than normal. The sudden pressure hit him like a physical blow, his knees buckling slightly as the bones in his thighs groaned under the load. His breath was forced from his lungs in a sudden gasp, and his heart hammered against his ribs as it struggled to pump blood against the increased weight.
At the same time, a biting, howling Yin-frost wind swept through the canyon, carrying thousands of tiny ice crystals that cut against his skin. The cold was not ordinary; it was a pure, invasive Yin energy that immediately tried to seep into his pores, targeting his meridians to freeze his circulating Qi.
"I must hold on," Fang Lin thought, his teeth gritting.
He immediately circulated his Nine Nether Phantom Body core art. Under his skin, his vital energy surged, and his flesh took on a faint, cold metallic sheen. The Perfection stage of his Netherskin absorbed the crushing physical pressure, his bones and muscles aligning to bear the ten-fold weight. He stabilized his stance, planting his feet firmly on the frozen stone floor.
To counter the freezing wind, he regulated his breath using the Guard Dragon Breath technique. His Qi circulation locked into a defensive, steady rhythm, creating an internal barrier of warmth that pushed back against the invading Yin-frost.
"The trial has begun," he murmured.
The dark mist at the bottom of the canyon began to swirl and condense. Within seconds, a dozen tall, imposing figures materialized from the fog. They were humanoid warriors, their bodies formed from heavy, dense death-energy. They held weapons of condensed Yin-Qi—greatswords, spears, and halberds—and their hollow eyes glowed with a pale, cold light.
With a silent, coordinated movement, the death warriors charged.
Because of the heavy gravity, Fang Lin's usual physical agility was severely restricted. Every step felt as if he were dragging heavy iron chains, and his standard speed was cut in half. As a spear-wielding warrior thrust its weapon toward his chest, Fang Lin did not panic. He focused his divine sense, mapping the trajectory of the strike.
At the last moment, he executed the Moonless Shadow Step.
His figure did not blur or create a rushing sound. Instead, he simply ceased to exist in the path of the spear, sliding weightlessly through the darkness to reappear three feet to the left. The weight of the gravity seemed to slip off him for a fraction of a second as he merged with the dimness of the valley.
With a swift motion, he drew his standard steel sword. He did not use the Night Burial Sword yet, wanting to train his raw coordination first.
He circulated his Nine Abyss Shadow Scripture, drawing dark Qi from his dantian and channeling it through the True Dark Bud in his spiritual sea. The blade of his sword became a void of light-devouring cold.
He executed the Moon-Eating Shadow Blade.
The sword did not flash. It moved like a silent vacuum, carving through the neck of the nearest warrior. The condensed death-energy of the construct did not splatter; it was sucked directly into the dark void of the blade, its structure dissolving instantly as the warrior collapsed into formless mist.
But the other warriors were already upon him. A greatsword slashed downward, and a halberd swept toward his legs. Fang Lin was forced to rotate his body, using his sword to block the greatsword while his left leg kicked out to deflect the halberd's shaft.
*Clang!*
The impact of the heavy greatsword sent a jarring shockwave through his arms. Under the three-fold gravity, the force of the blow was doubled. Fang Lin's feet slid back two inches, cracking the frozen stone beneath him. His meridians burned as he forced his Qi to circulate faster, maintaining his Netherskin's defense against the crushing force.
"They are heavy," Fang Lin thought, his eyes narrowing. "If I fight them with brute force, my Qi will be exhausted in less than an hour. I must use their own weight against them."
He slid backward, using the Moonless Shadow Step to weave through the charging group. He stopped trying to meet their weapons head-on, instead using small, precise movements to redirect their strikes. Whenever a warrior lunged, he would step aside, letting the gravity pull the construct off balance before delivering a quick, dark sword strike to dissolve its core.
One by one, the death warriors dissolved into mist. By the time the last construct shattered, Fang Lin was breathing heavily, his chest heaving as he leaned on his sword. Sweat dripped from his chin, freezing into tiny beads of ice before they hit the ground. His Qi was already down by a third.
"That was only the first wave," the Dark Flame Spirit chimed in, her voice carrying a mix of amusement and caution. "Loud-Boy, you are moving too slow. If you don't speed up, the next toys will carve you up like meat."
"I am adjusting," Fang Lin mentally replied, his voice calm despite his exhaustion. "The gravity is a constraint, but it is also a teacher. It forces me to make my movements perfectly efficient."
-
Before he could fully recover his breath, the mist around him thickened, turning into a dense, swirling soup that cut his visible range down to less than ten feet. The howling wind grew louder, carrying the sound of distant, echoing growls.
*Awoo!*
A sharp, chilling howl cut through the wind.
Fang Lin did not rely on his eyes. He closed them, extending his Peak-Solid Soul's divine sense in a tight, concentrated scan radius of twenty feet. In this mist, a wide scan was useless and dangerous, but a close-range sweep was incredibly precise.
He felt them. Five distinct, cold signatures were moving through the mist at extreme speeds, circling him like hunters. They were Yin-Frost Wolves, simulated beasts of ice and dark Qi, their claws sharp enough to slice through steel.
Suddenly, a wolf pounced from his left blind spot, its jaws snapping toward his throat.
Fang Lin's body reacted instantly. Because of the gravity, he could not leap out of the way. Instead, he twisted his torso, letting the wolf's claws scrape along his shoulder.
*Screech!*
The sharp claws struck his robe, tearing the fabric, but they met a solid, metallic resistance. His Perfection Netherskin absorbed the impact, leaving only a faint grey mark on his skin. With a swift backhand strike, Fang Lin drove his sword upward, the dark void of the Moon-Eating Shadow Blade piercing the wolf's chest. The beast whimpered once before dissolving.
But as he killed the first, two more leaped from the mist behind him. One bit into his thigh, while the other clawed at his back.
The pain was sharp, but the Guard Dragon Breath kept his internal Qi stable, preventing the beasts' freezing energy from invading his meridians. He gritted his teeth, his physical raw force surging as he grabbed the wolf on his leg by its throat, slamming it into the ground with enough force to shatter its stone-bark bones, while his sword swept backward to cleave the other wolf in two.
He spun around, his divine sense tracking the remaining two wolves. They were faster than the warriors, using the mist to hide their approach.
"You cannot hide from a Solid Soul," Fang Lin muttered.
He stood still, letting his Qi pool in his legs. When the fourth wolf lunged, he did not dodge. He waited until it was inches away, then executed the Moonless Shadow Step, appearing directly above it. He brought his sword down, cleaving the beast from head to tail. The final wolf tried to retreat, but Fang Lin threw his standard steel sword with a burst of dark Qi. The blade pierced the beast's skull, dissolving it instantly.
Fang Lin caught his sword as it fell, his hands trembling slightly. His thighs and shoulder were bruised, and the cold was beginning to dull his senses.
"You are getting hit too much," the Dark Flame Spirit warned. "Your Netherskin is tough, but it isn't indestructible. If a stronger construct hits you before you regenerate, it will break your bones."
"I know," Fang Lin thought. "The beasts are testing my reaction speed. I must anticipate their movements before they even leap."
-
The mist suddenly vanished, pulled toward the center of the canyon by a powerful, swirling vortex.
The ground beneath Fang Lin's feet began to vibrate violently. Giant cracks spread across the stone floor, and the heavy gravity in the valley suddenly surged, doubling in strength. Fang Lin's body was forced downward, his knees bending as he was pressed toward the stone. He had to drive his sword into the ground to keep from falling flat on his face.
From the swirling vortex of mist and stone, a massive figure rose.
It was a Stone Golem Construct, standing over fifteen feet tall. Its body was composed of heavy, dark stone-bark, and its chest glowed with a dense, pulsing core of pure Yin-Qi. Its limbs were like tree trunks, and its steps shook the entire valley.
The golem looked down at Fang Lin, raising a massive stone fist.
Fang Lin tried to move, but the increased gravity felt like a mountain resting on his shoulders. His Netherskin hummed at its absolute limit, his obsidian skin glowing with a dark sheen as he forced his muscles to contract.
"I cannot dodge this," he realized.
The massive fist came crashing down like a meteor.
Fang Lin braced himself, circulating his Qi into his left arm to activate his defensive techniques. He met the fist with a blocking stance, using the Mountain Bearing Frame to transfer the impact through his skeletal structure and into the ground beneath him.
*BOOM!*
The ground shattered, a crater forming around Fang Lin's feet. The force of the impact was terrifying, sending a jolt of pain through his shoulder and chest. A breath of blood rose in his throat, but he forced it down, his Guard Dragon Breath stabilizing his internal Qi before it could collapse.
The golem raised its other fist to strike again.
"I must destroy its core," Fang Lin thought, his eyes flashing with a cold light. "My sword cannot pierce its armor. I must use raw force to shatter it."
He released his hold on the sword, letting it fall. He concentrated his entire Peak Middle Spirit Foundation Qi and his soul pressure, channeling them into his hands. He would use the Black Mountain Suppression Art.
As the golem's second fist descended, Fang Lin invoked the Black Mountain Descent.
An invisible, crushing gravitational force erupted from his body, wrapping around the golem's massive frame. The air warped with density. The golem's fist slowed mid-air, the stone construct creaking under the sudden, conflicting gravitational pressure that fought against its own movements.
Using that brief window, Fang Lin leaped forward. The gravity tried to pull him down, but his Perfection Netherskin pushed through the resistance, his legs launching him toward the golem's chest.
He condensed his physical force and dark Qi into his right hand, executing the Black Mountain Breaking Palm.
His hand struck the glowing Yin-Qi core on the golem's chest.
*CRACK!*
The impact was deafening. The stone-bark armor beneath his palm cracked, web-like fissures spreading across the golem's chest. The golem roared, a sound like grinding stone, as it tried to grab him.
Fang Lin did not retreat. He channeled his remaining Qi into a second, deeper pulse of force, driving the suppression pressure straight into the glowing core.
"Shatter!" he roared mentally.
The Yin-Qi core inside the golem's chest exploded, its glowing light fracturing into thousands of tiny sparks. The golem's massive stone body froze, then began to crumble, giant chunks of stone falling to the ground like rain.
Fang Lin fell back to the stone floor, landing heavily on his feet. The gravity in the valley finally returned to its baseline three-fold strength, but Fang Lin had nothing left to support himself. His legs gave out, and he collapsed onto one knee, using his hand to steady himself against the cold stone.
His Qi was completely dry. His meridians felt raw and empty, and his body was covered in deep bruises and minor cuts. But as he sat there, breathing the freezing air, he felt a strange, deep resonance within his spiritual sea. The grey seed hummed softly, its sprout mark glowing with a faint vitality that began to repair his exhausted meridians.
The sky above the canyon slowly began to shift, the dark mist receding.
The calm, echoing voice of the Elderly Mansion Spirit drifted down from the heights of the valley.
"The first phase of the trial is complete, successor. You have survived the first tier of gravity and combat. You have three days to recover and refine what you have learned before the second tier begins. Do not lose focus."
Fang Lin sat cross-legged on the cold stone, closing his eyes to begin his recovery. He had survived the first wave of fights, but he knew this was only the beginning of his five months of subjective training.
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