The Noble Blood

Ragon stood before Ashar, whose form was gradually fading, his once-brilliant aura dimming with each passing moment.

"I don't have much time," Ashar said, his voice tinged with exhaustion. "All you need to do now is go through that doorway." He gestured weakly toward a door that materialized ahead of them, glowing faintly. "I've used the last of my energy regulating your Spiritual Sea. I doubt this phantom will last much longer."

Ragon hesitated, staring at the door. The unknown loomed before him, and doubt crept into his mind. The choice was clear but daunting: step forward into uncertainty, where death could await, or turn back and forsake everything he had worked for.

"There's nothing for me to lose. I'll go," Ragon said, steeling himself. With determined steps, he moved toward the door.

"Yes," Ashar murmured, relief flashing across his fading features. "You've made the right choice."

The moment Ragon crossed the threshold, he felt his body being pulled into an entirely new space. He landed softly on vibrant green grass, the scent of fresh earth filling the air. Before him stretched an island surrounded by calm, shimmering water.

"Where am I?" Ragon muttered, scanning his surroundings. Towering trees, their massive trunks rooted firmly in the ground, stood at the center of the island. Their canopies stretched high into the sky, casting long shadows across the landscape.

As he tried to make sense of his environment, a figure appeared in the distance, speeding toward him with breathtaking velocity. In a split second, the figure halted midway, its presence radiating an overwhelming aura.

Ragon squinted, studying the figure. This time, it was an elderly monk, seemingly in his nineties, with a long white mustache and a bald head. His piercing gaze and calm demeanor gave him an air of unparalleled wisdom and strength.

Curiosity flickered in Ragon's eyes. He suspected this was still another manifestation of Ashar, and the thought of inheriting a legacy from someone he barely understood left him uneasy.

"I guess you're still Ashar," Ragon said cautiously, eyeing the monk.

"Yes, I am still Ashar," the figure replied, his voice deep and steady.

As Ragon observed the monk, he noticed that this version of Ashar radiated an even stronger aura than the previous phantoms he had encountered. It dawned on him that Ashar's original self must have divided his spiritual consciousness into multiple parts, each one growing progressively stronger. This clever tactic ensured the tomb's guardian phantoms were unpredictable in strength, preventing challengers from exploiting weaknesses. Ragon realized this precaution was necessary to stop the tomb from being raided without following proper trials.

Gathering his thoughts, Ragon spoke respectfully, surprising even himself. "Senior, I'd like to know… who are you, really?" For the first time, his tone carried genuine politeness.

Ashar raised an eyebrow, slightly taken aback by the shift in Ragon's demeanor. Despite Ragon's usually brash and confident personality, this sudden display of respect caught him off guard. Then again, as all the phantoms' memories were linked, Ashar knew the events of the earlier tests and Ragon's combative nature all too well.

The monk folded his arms, his white mustache twitching slightly as he studied Ragon. "You wish to know who I am?" he asked, his voice calm but commanding.

"Yes," Ragon replied. "If I am to inherit your legacy, I need to understand the man behind it."

Ashar's lips curved into a faint smile. "Very well, Ragon. Let me tell you who I truly am."

Ashar folded his hands behind his back, his gaze distant as he began to recount his story.

"I was once like you, Ragon," he started, his tone calm but laced with pride. "A young, promising warrior with great potential. My rise was rapid—faster than anyone in my generation. By the age of 20, I had already reached the Earth Realm, a feat that drew admiration and envy from countless others."

Ragon listened intently, sensing the gravity of Ashar's words.

"But my ambitions didn't stop there," Ashar continued. "I was determined to go beyond what anyone thought was possible. For decades, I trained relentlessly, pushing my body, mind, and spirit to their absolute limits. And at the age of 60, I crossed into the threshold of the Immortal Realm. It was a feat that many couldn't achieve even after centuries of cultivation."

Ashar's expression darkened slightly, and his voice grew quieter. "But that is where my journey faltered. Reaching the Immortal Realm was not enough. I sought to ascend to Godhood, to become something more. However, the tribulations that came with such a step… they were far beyond anything I had prepared for. The heavens themselves seemed to conspire against me."

He paused, his eyes meeting Ragon's. "I failed. The tribulation was too powerful, and my body… my very existence… was obliterated by its strength. I died attempting to reach the heights I so desperately sought."

Ragon's brow furrowed as he absorbed Ashar's words. "So, this tomb… you built it knowing you might not survive?"

Ashar nodded, his expression steady. "Yes. I prepared for the possibility of failure. Before I faced the tribulation, I divided a portion of my spiritual energy—20% of it—and sealed it within this tomb. This energy, combined with the trials I designed, was meant to guide and test those who would dare to challenge my legacy."

He gestured around the space, his voice growing firm. "This tomb is not just a resting place. It is a crucible. Only those who prove themselves worthy—those who show the strength, wisdom, and perseverance necessary—can inherit what I left behind."

Ragon tilted his head, intrigued. "Why did you set the tomb in a star-level village? Surely, someone of your level could have chosen a more prestigious location."

A faint smile appeared on Ashar's face. "That was deliberate. I did not want those of the Commander Stage to inherit my legacy."

"Why not?" Ragon asked, curious.

Ashar's expression turned serious. "Because of my own flaws. My foundation at the Commander Stage had significant loopholes. I rushed through that stage too quickly in my quest for power, and while it didn't hinder me immediately, it became a weakness in the higher realms. I could not allow someone with an unstable foundation to follow in my footsteps. That is why I placed my tomb in a star-level village—to ensure that only those who were below the Commander Stage of cultivation could attempt my trials."

"Then, what is going to be the third challenge? Because I don't see any challenge here so far," Ragon said casually. It felt like a needle had pricked his heart upon hearing that.

Ashar then stared at him. "Boy, you really underestimate my legacy. I will ask you a simple question that no one was able to answer while I was alive, and it's what prevented me from ascending to godhood."

Ashar's piercing gaze locked onto him. "Answer me this: What is the essence of balance in cultivation? How does one harmonize the physical, spiritual, and mental aspects of their being to ascend without self-destruction?"