After five relentless days navigating the shifting terrain beyond Bellini, Jalen arrived at the Mystic Ground—a realm spoken of only in hushed tones and cryptic texts. It wasn't marked by temples or gates, but by a faint ripple in the spiritual field and a thinning of reality. As he stepped into its threshold, the Qi around him condensed unnaturally, and a dormant formation—hidden beneath the soil—flared to life.
blue Light enveloped him.
In an instant, the world twisted.
Jalen found himself standing in a completely different dimension—somewhere ancient and forgotten. The air was heavy with ancestral echoes. Crumbling statues lined a winding path, half-swallowed by overgrowth. Strange runes glimmered faintly along cliff walls and on the undersides of hovering stone slabs. The sky was tinged orange, like a perpetual twilight, and the sun—if that was even what it was—seemed frozen above the distant hills.
He scanned the land, noting its sheer scale and warped geometry. Here, gravity itself pulsed irregularly; Qi currents spiraled and collided as if unwilling to settle. Yet amid this chaos, there was clarity: the scent of wild flame, the feeling of ancient judgment, and power—deep and buried, perhaps, but present nonetheless.
As Jalen soared upward, allowing his spiritual sense to expand across the landscape, a beast materialized from the mist—a creature resembling a winged lion with obsidian scales and piercing red eyes. It had reached the Imperial Realm and radiated malevolent intelligence. With a guttural roar, it lunged toward him, claws brimming with corrupted spirit energy.
Jalen didn't flinch.
A beam of white light carved across the sky, leaving behind a trail of spiritual fire. His blade—summoned in silence, Luminal Edge —tore through the beast mid-charge, cleaving it cleanly in two. He collected its core, tucked it into his spatial pocket, and resumed his flight without so much as a backward glance.
From above, the realm stretched endlessly.
He passed floating weapons, training scrolls, cultivation stones—all glimmering with enchantments and potential. Yet none of them stirred his Origin Shard. He dismissed them. Treasure below his realm had no place in his path. He wasn't here for beginner treasures. He sought what legends barely dared whisper: the Blue Flame Pool and the Supreme Tool once wielded by an sky limit realm cultivator. Of course if he found the others that would be a plus.
But the Origin Shard, embedded in his chest like a sleeping star, remained inert.
He paused atop a spiraling canyon ridge, gaze lingering on a group of cultivators below. They were screaming, pursued by insectoid beasts with molten skin. Some begged for help. Others brandished weapons, clearly outmatched.
He turned away.
This was not arrogance—it was precision. Jalen understood the cost of intervening, and none of these strangers mattered to him. If their fates were sealed, so be it.
If the Origin Shard has no interest, he thought, then perhaps none of these relics are genuine. Or maybe… maybe this place is a test, and the true treasure lies behind deception.
Eventually, he descended toward a quiet lakeside, seeking respite. The water was dark and still, reflecting the sky's orange hue like a pool of bloodied glass. Beside a moss-covered boulder, he lay down—not asleep, but motionless. His breath slowed. The calm was welcome.
Until the scream shattered it.
A woman's scream. Sharp, strained, and close.
Jalen sat up instantly, spirit sense flickering to life.
Two figures broke into view from the far forest edge—battered, bloody, and barely escaping. He recognized them immediately.
Jaya. And Walford.
She was stumbling, exhausted, clearly unable to fight. Her cultivation and defenses were laughable compared to the beasts chasing her. Walford, however, was engaged in brutal combat. His robe was torn, his left arm bleeding and limp, and his Qi was flickering unevenly as if he'd pushed his core beyond its limits.
Behind them—a pack of wolf-like flame beasts, each at the Imperial Realm. Their eyes gleamed with hunger, and their bodies radiated scorching heat. Jaya wouldn't last another minute. Walford had already begun to collapse, his stance defensive but faltering.
Jalen remained still.
Jaya saw him—her eyes widened in recognition and desperate hope.
"Hey!" she screamed, her voice cracking. "Help us please!"
Her legs buckled. Walford spun, placing himself between her and the incoming jaws of flame. Jaya clutched his shoulder, trembling. "He's here. He can help. He—he can save us."
Walford didn't reply. His eyes locked with Jalen's across the field. There was no begging in his gaze. Only resignation. And perhaps silent condemnation.
Jalen didn't move.
His thoughts were eerily calm. They entered the Mystic Ground without preparation. She relied on someone else's strength again. The world does not reward recklessness.
The flame wolves closed in.
Jaya screamed again, tears streaking down her soot-covered cheeks.
Still, Jalen didn't move.
Then Walford fell.
A claw tore into his chest, throwing him back. Jaya rushed to cover him with her body as the beasts circled.
In that moment, something clicked—not sentiment, not compassion. Instinct.
Jalen stood.
A blade made of pure light appeared in his hand— Luminal Edge. He walked toward the pack slowly, each footstep sending tremors into the soil. The wolves froze, their minds brushing his aura—and recoiling instantly. Some whimpered. One lunged.
He swung once.
The wolf vanished in flame and ash.
The others scattered immediately, tripping over one another to flee deeper into the forest. Their confidence had shattered. They'd just realized what they were up against.
Jalen reached them.
Walford lay wheezing, blood pooling beneath him. Jaya looked up with wide eyes—half in awe, half in confusion.
"Thank you" she whispered.
"There is no need for that," Jalen replied, voice cool. "I helped me. Your screaming was distracting."
He turned away.
But Jaya didn't follow. She simply stared at his back as he walked toward the lake again, blade vanishing.