The mountain peak remained silent after Aluki finished speaking. The wind moved through the clouds below, carrying the weight of a decision that could alter the fate of the cultivation world. Eryndor stood motionless, staring at the old man before him. One path offered safety, patience, and a normal inheritance. The other offered danger beyond imagination. Most cultivators would have chosen the first option without hesitation. Yet Eryndor had never been normal. Ever since he awakened in this world, his life had been shaped by impossible choices, ancient gods, and powers that should not exist. Deep within his chest, beneath the cracked seal, the Starved Throne remained silent. Waiting. Listening. Watching.
"Why me?" Eryndor finally asked.
Aluki smiled faintly.
"Because I have spent seven hundred years searching for someone capable of carrying my legacy."
The old cultivator's eyes narrowed slightly.
"And because you're the only person I've ever met who frightens the heavens themselves."
Silence followed.
Eryndor lowered his gaze.
The truth was simple.
He was running out of time.
Every day the Throne grew stronger.
Every day the seal weakened.
Every day the hunger awakened a little more.
Sixty years of training would not be enough.
Not anymore.
Slowly, Eryndor raised his head.
"I choose the second path."
The words echoed through the pavilion.
For the first time, genuine surprise appeared on Aluki's face.
Then the old man laughed.
Not loudly.
Not arrogantly.
But with the satisfaction of a man whose gamble had finally paid off.
"Good."
The sky darkened as Aluki led Eryndor toward an ancient cultivation chamber hidden beneath the highest mountain of Cloud Fare Sect. No disciples followed. No elders entered. Only the two of them descended into the depths of the mountain.
At the center of the chamber stood a massive formation older than the sect itself.
Countless runes covered the floor.
Ancient spiritual crystals glowed within the walls.
The entire room pulsed with terrifying power.
"This formation was built three thousand years ago," Aluki explained.
"It was originally created to transfer the inheritance of Heavenly Sovereigns."
Eryndor stared at the formation.
"And now?"
Aluki smiled.
"Now we're going to do something it was never meant to accomplish."
Hours later, everything was prepared.
Aluki sat in the center of the formation.
Eryndor stood opposite him.
Neither man spoke.
Neither hesitated.
The old cultivator slowly closed his eyes.
"I've lived seven centuries."
His voice was calm.
"I've witnessed empires rise and fall."
"I've buried friends."
"I've defeated enemies."
"I've touched the limits of cultivation."
For a moment, sadness appeared in his expression.
"But every journey ends."
The formation began glowing.
The mountain trembled.
Outside, clouds gathered across the sky.
The heavens themselves seemed aware that something unnatural was about to occur.
Aluki opened his eyes one final time.
"There is one thing I need you to remember."
Eryndor remained silent.
"No matter how powerful you become..."
The old man's gaze became sharp.
"Do not let the Throne convince you that humanity is weakness."
The words struck deeper than any cultivation technique.
Then Aluki smiled.
And placed his hand against his own chest.
The next moment was shocking.
Without hesitation, Aluki shattered his own heart.
Blood covered his robes.
The formation exploded with light.
The strongest cultivator in the world was dying.
Yet his expression remained peaceful.
As his body collapsed, a brilliant golden soul emerged from within him.
Ancient.
Powerful.
Endless.
Seven hundred years of knowledge condensed into pure spiritual essence.
The soul floated toward Eryndor.
The Starved Throne awakened instantly.
Darkness surged beneath Eryndor's skin.
The chamber shook violently.
The hunger recognized an extraordinary meal.
For a terrifying moment, Eryndor feared the Throne would devour Aluki completely.
Then something unexpected happened.
Instead of resisting, Aluki's soul entered Eryndor willingly.
Golden light collided with darkness.
The entire mountain trembled.
Within Eryndor's spiritual sea, the soul of Aluki appeared before the shattered black throne.
For the first time in seven hundred years...
Aluki looked afraid.
The throne was larger than mountains.
Its darkness stretched endlessly into the void.
Ancient chains covered its surface.
And sitting upon it was a shadow far older than heaven itself.
The Starved God.
Sleeping.
Waiting.
Watching.
Even Aluki's soul seemed insignificant before it.
"What in the world have you become?" Aluki whispered.
The sleeping figure did not answer.
But one crimson eye slowly opened.
The old cultivator immediately understood.
The prophecy was real.
Every word.
Every warning.
Every nightmare.
All of it.
Back in reality, Eryndor fell to one knee.
Pain exploded through his mind.
Memories flooded into him.
Seven hundred years of experience.
Cultivation techniques.
Battle knowledge.
Ancient secrets.
Lost histories.
Forgotten realms.
The information poured into him endlessly.
His body trembled.
His soul screamed.
Yet somehow he endured.
When the process finally ended, silence filled the chamber.
The body of Aluki was gone.
Only dust remained.
The strongest cultivator in the world had vanished.
Inside Eryndor's mind, a familiar voice suddenly spoke.
"Well."
Aluki sounded amused.
"This is going to be interesting."
Eryndor blinked.
"You can talk?"
"Of course I can talk."
The old cultivator sighed dramatically.
"I'm trapped inside your head for the next few centuries."
A pause followed.
Then Aluki added:
"And by the way..."
"What?"
"You really need to stop making terrible decisions."
For the first time in years, Eryndor laughed.
A genuine laugh.
Meanwhile, deep within the darkness of his spiritual sea, the Starved Throne remained silent.
Watching.
Waiting.
Because now there were three minds sharing one destiny:
Eryndor.
Aluki.
And the ancient hunger that could one day devour the heavens themselves.
The true journey had finally begun.