Dustin stepped forward and gave a respectful nod toward the skeletal remains. “Sir, I mean no disrespect. I only seek a way to survive here. If I manage to leave, I will remember your kindness.’
The moment his words fell, the withered bones stirred faintly. A dim wisp of light drifted out of the skeleton, gradually coalescing into the translucent figure of an elderly man with white hair and a long white beard.
“3,000 years have passed,” he began as he studied Dustin, a trace of surprise flickering in his eyes. “At last, someone has come here.”
Dustin felt a jolt of alarm. He hadn’t expected the skeletal remains to conceal something so mysterious. The elderly man stroked his beard and chuckled softly.
“Don’t be nervous. I died long ago. What remains here is only a fragment of my soul, left behind to wait for someone who might one day reach this place. You made it into this hall carrying that ancient token, so our meeting wasn’t a coincidence. Tell me, are you willing to accept my trial?”
“Go ahead,” Dustin replied.
“The trial is simple. Study this scroll, the Mortal Transforming Art. If you can grasp even a portion of its meaning, you will be considered to have passed. If you can’t…”
The elderly man left the sentence unfinished, though the implication was obvious. Dustin accepted the memory crystal and pressed it to his forehead. In the next instant, a torrent of information poured into his mind.
The Mortal Transforming Art was created for cultivators preparing to break through to the nascent soul realm. Its principle was simple yet profound. When a cultivator’s power was sealed, it didn’t mean they had become powerless, nor did it mean their progress had stopped advancing.
Instead, it offered a rare opportunity to temper the body, refine the soul, and deepen one’s foundation. When the nascent soul finally formed, that long accumulation would erupt at once and allow one to soar to unprecedented heights.
Dustin immersed himself in the teachings, studying them with a hunger that pushed everything else from his mind. Time slipped away unnoticed. It might have been a single moment, or perhaps several days. When he finally opened his eyes again, a faint trace of understanding had appeared within them.
The elderly man nodded with satisfaction.” Your comprehension is acceptable. You pass. This scroll of the Mortal Transforming Art is yours. And one more thing…”
He raised a finger, and a strand of spiritual light shot forward, sinking into Dustin’s forehead.
“This is a fragment of my soul mark. When your life hangs in the balance, it will protect you once. Go now. Your companions are waiting.”
As his words faded, the elderly man dissolved, leaving Dustin alone in the stone chamber. He gave a respectful nod to the skeletal remains before him, then turned and departed.
Meanwhile, the others were also encountering opportunities of their own. In a chamber dedicated to sword practice, Grace obtained a superior sword manual titled 13 Frostflash Strikes. Adam discovered a complete set of formation banners and diagrams.
Meanwhile, Scarlet fought an illusory beast in a trial arena and slew it, earning a Dragonblood Pill that strengthened the body.
When everyone finally regrouped outside the hall’s entrance, the satisfaction from their gains was evident on every face. Scarlet immediately ran to Dustin and looked him over from head to toe before asking, “Are you all right?”
He nodded and replied, “I’m fine. In fact, I learned something as well.”
Afterward, he glanced at the others and added, “This place isn’t safe. We should continue upward.”
The group nodded, then left the ancient hall behind. They proceeded along the passage on the opposite side of the cavern until they reached a flight of stone steps ascending deeper into the mountain.
As they stepped on the steps, the surrounding spiritual energy grew noticeably denser, and the invisible pressure bearing down on them intensified.
Mount Aethermoor was testing the resolve and endurance of every climber who sought to ascend it.
