After a long, tense silence that seemed to stretch for an eternity, Ethan finally regained his composure. His breathing, once ragged and frantic, slowly settled into a rhythmic pattern. He looked up at the ethereal figure before him, his voice steadying as he asked the question that had been gnawing at his mind.
"Then, if I take the Temporal Soul World with me," Ethan began, his eyes searching the Soul God's ancient gaze, "it will have no adverse effects on the spirit array that is currently protecting the village? The people... they will remain safe?"
The Soul God offered a small, serene smile—a expression that carried the weight of eons. He replied with a single, calm word: "No."
Ethan let out a long, heavy sigh of relief, the tension draining from his shoulders like water. He had always harbored a quiet fear that choosing his own advancement would come at a terrible price for others. He believed that if he had taken the Temporal Soul World at the cost of the villagers' lives, he would never have been able to reconcile it with his conscience.
This must be why the V-Ranked mission is so notoriously difficult, Ethan thought. It isn't just about raw power; it's about the weight of the choices you make when everything is on the line.
Now, however, it seemed the path was clear. He had made the right decision, and the moral crisis had been averted. With the Soul God's assurance, he believed that everything had finally been settled. As long as he successfully claimed the Temporal Soul World, the mission would be officially flagged as complete. He could already feel the anticipation humming in his veins, his mind racing with the possibilities of the rewards that awaited a survivor of a V-Ranked trial.
But just as he reached out toward the Temporal Soul World—which hung suspended in mid-air, glowing with a soft, hypnotic light under the Soul God's control—a sudden, sharp pang shot through his chest.
It started as a dull throb, but within seconds, it escalated into a white-hot ache that radiated to his very fingertips. It felt as if his blood had been replaced with molten lead.
"Argh!"
Ethan let out a strangled, guttural shout. The agony was so sudden and so absolute that his legs gave way instantly. He collapsed to the floor, his fingers clawing at the stone as he curled into a ball. The pain was so intense that it felt like his very cells were being pulled apart from the inside.
"Wh… what's happening to me?" Ethan managed to gasp out. Every word felt like a jagged blade in his throat. Panic began to claw at his mind, sharper even than the physical pain.
The Soul God narrowed his eyes, his translucent form flickering slightly as he leaned in to observe Ethan more closely. He remained silent for a long moment, analyzing the chaotic energy swirling around the young man.
"How strange," the deity mused, his voice sounding distant through the haze of Ethan's agony. "Did you perhaps consume too many highest-grade Spirit Pills during your journey? Your essence is dangerously volatile."
"No...!" Ethan replied. The single syllable took every ounce of his remaining strength. He felt as though he were drowning in a sea of his own energy.
The Soul God's expression shifted from curiosity to genuine confusion. "Then why is your Spirit Power surging at such an unprecedented level? To possess two spirits is rare enough, but the density of your Spirit Power is staggering. It is nearly a hundred times stronger than a standard spirit of your level. What could you have possibly done to achieve such a violent increment in strength?"
Ethan's mind was a chaotic blur, but through the fog of pain, he managed to summon a single thought: System! Show me my Cultivation Spirit stats!
In an instant, the semi-transparent blue screen flickered into his vision:
[Heaven Cultivation Spirit: 115.1]
[Spirit Cultivation Spirit: 115.1]
Ethan's heart—or what felt like his heart—skipped a beat. He was momentarily dumbstruck, the shock briefly eclipsing the physical torment. Before he had entered this final trial, his Cultivation Spirits had been sitting at a modest 5.1 points. Now, they had skyrocketed to 115.1. A total increase of 110 points in what felt like a matter of hours.
Then, the realization hit him. He remembered the stairs. He remembered the crushing, soul-heavy pressure of each step he had climbed to reach this floor. The trial hadn't just been a test of will; it had been a brutal, forced refinement of his very soul.
"Tell me," the Soul God demanded again, his voice echoing with authority. "What forbidden medicine did you take to engorge your spirit power to such an extent?"
Soul God! Do you have amnesia? Ethan screamed internally, his frustration boiling over into a mental scowl. This is the result of your own damn test!
He couldn't find the breath to say it out loud. His entire being was focused on one thing: not exploding.
The Soul God, being a being of vast experience and ancient wisdom, seemed to catch the drift of Ethan's silent anger. He sighed, a sound like shifting sands. "Regardless of the cause, the reality remains. Both of your spirits have become too potent for your current vessel. Your physical body is simply not robust enough to contain such a massive reservoir of power. Your spirits are literally bursting at the seams, trying to escape the confines of your flesh. This pain is merely the beginning. If left unchecked, your body will eventually shatter under the pressure."
If you know why I'm dying, then fix it!
Ethan roared in the privacy of his mind. What kind of 'Soul God' just stands there narrating my death?
He felt a bitter resentment toward the deity. For all the talk of "inheritance" and "character," he was currently being left to rot on the floor while the benefactor watched with academic interest.
Finally, the Soul God seemed to reach a conclusion. "Since you possess two Spirits, I presume you are familiar with methods of spirit manipulation. I have a solution, though it will require a great deal of focus from you. I will send you to the Spirit Pool. There, the environment will stabilize your physical form long enough for you to split your spirits into multiple, manageable parts. I will then seal those excess fragments within the Temporal Soul World itself. This is one of the artifact's true purposes—to act as a vessel for essence that the world cannot yet hold."
Ethan felt a flicker of hope. Finally, words that made sense.
"Prepare yourself," the Soul God commanded. With a grand, sweeping gesture of his hand, the golden world around them dissolved.
In a heartbeat, Ethan's surroundings shifted. The endless golden light was replaced by the cool, misty atmosphere of the Spirit Pool. The air here was thick with the scent of ozone and ancient water.
Ethan crawled toward the water's edge, every movement a battle against the pressure in his chest. He tumbled into the pool, and the moment the glowing liquid touched his skin, he felt a momentary dampening of the heat. He wasted no time. Closing his eyes, he triggered his secret technique.
<
A brilliant golden radiance erupted from his pores, enveloping his body in a protective cocoon. As the technique took hold, Ethan felt the "over-full" sensation begin to shift. It was like opening a valve on a pressurized tank.
He watched—or rather, felt—as his two massive spirits began to divide. Two became four. Four became eight. The process was grueling, requiring him to manually guide the energy so it didn't tear his soul apart. After what felt like an hour of intense concentration, his spirits had been meticulously split into 23 distinct fragments.
As each fragment was separated, the agonizing pressure in his limbs faded. The white-hot heat cooled into a pleasant warmth. By the time the final split was made, he felt a sense of lightness he had never experienced before.
Nearby, the Soul God was not idle. He hovered over the pool, his hands moving in complex, rhythmic patterns. In one hand, he held the Temporal Soul World; with the other, he acted as a conductor, drawing the glowing fragments of Ethan's soul out of the water and weaving them into the artifact. Each fragment settled into the sphere like a star returning to the sky.
When the last fragment was sealed, the Spirit Pool fell silent. Ethan opened his eyes, feeling completely refreshed, his energy balanced and his mind sharper than ever. He climbed out of the pool and bowed deeply to the deity.
"I thank the Senior for your aid," Ethan said, his voice now rich and clear. "I am grateful for the energy you expended to ensure my recovery."
The Soul God looked at him with a calm, inscrutable expression. "It is quite alright. You are the one who won my inheritance through strength and character. Helping you is not a chore; it is a necessity for the future."
He paused, his eyes twinkling with a mysterious light. "Remember this, Ethan: by helping you, I am truly helping myself."
Ethan frowned slightly, the cryptic words echoing in his mind. Helping yourself? He wanted to ask for clarification, but he knew by now that the logic of gods was rarely straightforward. He simply nodded, accepting the artifact and the mystery that came with it. The mission was over, but his journey with the Temporal Soul World had only just begun.