The stone door sealed shut behind Aeron with a deep, echoing thud, muffling the chaos of the Hollow Vale outside. The golden light that had spilled from within now dimmed slightly, replaced by the flickering glow of floating fire orbs that hovered above a vast spiral staircase.
Aeron's boots echoed against the polished obsidian steps as he descended slowly, one hand on the hilt of his sword, the other cradling the warm shard in his pocket.
The air here was heavy with a pressure that pressed down on his lungs—not from lack of oxygen, but from the sheer density of spiritual energy. It was the richest he had ever encountered. Every breath he took filled his meridians with qi, every step pulled him closer to a strange resonance humming through his body.
He passed old carvings etched into the walls—scenes of titanic battles, colossal spirit beasts laying waste to armies, cultivators standing atop floating islands, and strange, ethereal beings walking among mortals.
Each image was faded and cracked, but still vivid enough to paint the picture of a world long lost.
> "This place is ancient..." he muttered.
When he finally reached the bottom of the staircase, he found himself in an expansive chamber, shaped like an inverted dome. The floor was tiled with glowing crystal plates, and above, floating rings of stone orbited silently in the air. In the center of the room, an enormous pedestal stood, cradling a circular platform.
A single stone tablet floated above the platform, spinning slowly.
As Aeron stepped closer, glowing glyphs flickered to life across the platform's surface. He hesitated—every instinct told him this was a trial ground.
And he was right.
The tablet's glow pulsed once.
Suddenly, light flared across the chamber. Five illusions materialized, each shaped like a warrior—some human, others clearly not. Their cultivator auras were overwhelming, each radiating strength at the Spiritual General stage or higher.
A voice boomed, neither male nor female—neutral and powerful.
> "Welcome, shard bearer. You have awakened a piece of the Legacy. To claim the Vault's first blessing, you must survive the Trial of Five Paths."
Aeron gritted his teeth and drew his blade, its polished edge reflecting the blue flame of the nearest orb.
> "Let's get this over with."
---
Trial One: Strength
The first illusion, a hulking figure clad in black metal armour, charged with a war cry that shook the walls. Its weapon—a massive war hammer—swung with the force of a collapsing mountain.
Aeron didn't wait.
He activated his Phantom Step technique, his body flickering to the side in a blur. The war hammer slammed into the floor where he'd just stood, cracking the crystal tiles.
Aeron retaliated with a two-strike combo, one horizontal slash followed by an upward arc of his blade. The illusion blocked the first, but the second tore across its shoulder, dissipating a trail of golden mist.
The trial was brutal. The illusion did not tire, did not hesitate, and its strength far outmatched Aeron's raw power. But he had speed and technique.
He ducked, rolled, and struck with precise attacks, slicing joints and weak points.
After fifteen minutes of dancing at the edge of death, he finally landed a devastating blow to the illusion's chest. With a burst of light, the figure disintegrated into dust.
Aeron dropped to one knee, panting hard.
> "One down."
---
Trial Two: Wisdom
The next illusion took the form of a cloaked sage, seated cross-legged in front of a stone puzzle, its glowing runes shifting every few seconds. The voice echoed again.
> "Solve the puzzle to proceed. Fail, and be consumed by spiritual backlash."
Aeron approached, his breath steadying as he studied the shifting runes. He had faced such puzzles before during his time at the fallen Raven Court—tests of pattern, logic, and spiritual awareness.
He took his time, letting his spiritual sense reach out and feel the energy paths within the puzzle.
The glyphs responded to his touch, reshaping themselves in reaction to his qi flow. After fifteen tense minutes of silent focus, Aeron finally completed the final sequence.
The runes lit up in harmony.
The illusion nodded and vanished.
> "Good," Aeron whispered. "I didn't want to be fried from the inside."
---
Trial Three: Spirit
This time, the trial took place entirely in his mind.
As soon as the third illusion appeared, Aeron felt his vision blur and his legs give out.
He awoke in a dreamscape—an endless field under a red sky. Shadows surrounded him—figures from his past.
His father.
His dead brothers from the war.
Even himself—bloody and broken, lying under a pile of rubble.
> "You can't save them," the illusions whispered. "You failed."
Aeron's fists clenched. The voices echoed louder. Accusing. Mocking.
He shut his eyes and drew on his cultivation, forcing calm into his mind. He knew this wasn't real. The spirits were testing his will.
> "I carry the burden of the dead," he said aloud. "But I do not kneel to guilt."
The shadows hissed and lunged.
Aeron's aura flared. His golden qi burst from his core in a wave of power, banishing the illusions in a brilliant flash.
He awoke on the ground of the Vault, drenched in sweat but alive.
> "Three down," he gasped.
---
Trial Four: Technique
This trial was different.
A single illusion stepped forward—an ethereal swordsman with glowing blue eyes. No words were spoken.
They bowed to one another.
And the duel began.
What followed was a clash of skill and finesse. No raw power, no techniques beyond the sword. Blade met blade in a blur of movement. Sparks danced in the air with each strike. Their movements were so fast that even the fire orbs struggled to track them.
Aeron felt himself being pushed harder than ever before. His muscles ached. His arms trembled. But his mind was sharp.
He parried a downward slash, pivoted, and struck from the side—only for the illusion to vanish and reappear behind him.
> "Illusion Movement..."
He remembered the counter: a feint followed by a reverse grip slash.
He executed it perfectly.
The illusion halted mid-strike, smiled, and dissolved into light.
Aeron sheathed his blade and bowed once more.
> "Four."
---
Trial Five: Legacy
The final trial was not a fight.
It was a choice.
The chamber transformed, revealing three pedestals. On each rested a relic.
A sword glowing with blue flame.
A scroll sealed in gold.
A crystal orb filled with swirling clouds.
The voice returned.
> "Choose. One will grant you strength. One, knowledge. One, vision."
Aeron didn't hesitate.
He reached for the scroll.
> "Power fades. Knowledge builds empires."
The scroll vanished into golden light and merged with the shard in his possession.
The chamber trembled.
A new path opened beneath the central platform—a stairwell descending even deeper.
Aeron stood still for a moment, absorbing everything.
He had passed.
But the journey was only beginning.
He stepped onto the new path, ready to uncover the rest of the Legacy... and forge his destiny in blood, steel, and fire.
The new stairwell was narrower, the walls closer, and the air thicker than before. There was no torchlight guiding his path now—only the faint glow from the scroll that had embedded itself into his core. The energy within it pulsed softly, in rhythm with his heartbeat, leading him downward through the gloom.
Aeron descended without hesitation.
Every step down seemed to deepen his awareness. The knowledge he had absorbed from the scroll began to flow like a river through his consciousness. His understanding of formations, elemental qi alignment, and even battle strategies broadened with each breath. These weren't memories—these were teachings passed down from an era long erased by time.
> "This… isn't just a trial," he murmured. "It's a legacy vault. A seed for a kingdom."
When he reached the bottom of the stairs, he stepped into a grand chamber far larger than the last. Its ceiling arched so high that it faded into mist. Eight towering statues stood along the walls, each representing a different path of cultivation—Warrior, Alchemist, Blacksmith, Array Master, Beast Tamer, Healer, Assassin, and Strategist.
In the centre of the room stood an altar encircled by glowing runes. Upon it rested an orb, swirling with red, blue, and gold light. As Aeron approached, the statues began to stir. Their stone eyes lit with spirit energy.
A deep voice echoed from all around.
> "You who have passed the Five Paths… now stand before the Circle of Dominion. Choose your future."
Aeron narrowed his eyes. The vault wasn't just granting knowledge—it was offering direction.
> "You must become more than a cultivator," the voice continued. "You must forge a path. A kingdom. A legacy."
The orb pulsed, and the statues stepped down from their pedestals, surrounding him in a wide circle.
The Warrior statue spoke first, its voice like grinding boulders.
> "Take my path and become the blade that cleaves empires."
The Alchemist followed, her tone calm and wise.
> "Mine is the art of life and death. Craft the miracles that fuel legends."
Then the Blacksmith, Array Master, and others followed, each laying their offering bare.
But it was the Strategist—the final statue—that said what Aeron felt in his bones.
> "You are not meant to walk a single path. You are meant to rule them."
A flash of light engulfed the orb. It rose from the altar and hovered in front of Aeron.
> "You bear the mark of dominion," the voice said. "You shall walk the path of the Sovereign."
Aeron reached out, and as his fingers brushed the orb, its energy surged into him, flooding his meridians with pure qi and expanding his core. His dantian quaked, and for a moment, he saw visions—armies marching under his banner, cities rising from nothing, beasts and men kneeling alike.
He collapsed to one knee, gritting his teeth as the energy stormed through him like a river bursting its dam. Flames, lightning, ice, metal—it was all there, merging with the foundations of his cultivation.
And then—
Silence.
He stood slowly, his aura burning brighter than ever. He had not only broken through to Spiritual Warrior – Level 1, but his qi flow was so dense and pure that it rivalled that of peak-level Stage 2 cultivators.
A new rune appeared on his forearm—an emblem of the Sovereign Path.
> "This… this is only the beginning."
The vault doors at the far end of the chamber opened with a low groan, revealing a corridor filled with treasures—spiritual herbs, weapons, cultivation manuals, and orbs of dense elemental energy.
But Aeron ignored them.
He turned back and knelt before the statues.
> "I will not forget this gift. I will build the world you dreamed of."
He walked through the corridor, taking only three items:
A dark steel blade etched with crimson runes.
A jade pendant storing thousands of formations.
A simple crown of woven silver and obsidian—unremarkable, but warm with power.
As he emerged from the Vault of Aetheris into the cold night air, Aeron's senses expanded.
He could feel the Hollow Vale. The spiritual beasts had retreated. The energy here had shifted, the legacy awakening having purified the land.
> "I'll start here," he said. "This valley will become the cradle of my empire."
He activated a formation using the jade pendant, planting the first node of what would become a cultivation field. The energy condensed immediately, forming spiritual mist around him.
Then he raised his sword toward the sky, and his voice echoed through the cliffs.
> "From this day forth, let it be known—this land belongs to the Sovereign Order!"
His qi surged like a tidal wave, and a massive mark appeared in the sky above—his crest. It glowed with authority.
All across the region, cultivators, beasts, and nomadic tribes looked up in shock.
A new power had awakened.
A new name would rise.
And blood… would follow.