The quiet in the Obsidian Courtyard of the Legacy Mansion was absolute. For two years in the calendar world, and ten full years within the time-dilated obsidian chamber, the group had cultivated in complete isolation. The outside world, with its search fleets and sects, felt like a distant memory. Everybody wanted to uncover Shen Mo's secret—how his battle prowess had reached such an absurd level that he could fight across realms and even defeat a Legacy disciple at the Mid Core Formation Realm while only being at the Late Spirit Foundation Realm.
It was not just any ordinary disciple, it was the LEGACY disciple who the major sects groomed and thought that the strength of a Legacy disciple was absolute at their particular stages. But, Fang Lin had subverted their cognition.
Under the stone pavilion, a simple stove burned with a low flame. Auntie Mei was stirring a pot of herbal broth, the steam rising in white plumes against the dark slabs of the courtyard. Uncle Zhang sat nearby, his hands wrapped around a cup of hot tea, his eyes resting on Fang Lin.
Fang Lin sat quietly, his broad shoulders relaxed. Physically, he now possessed the appearance of a mature, refined twenty-one-year-old. But his bone age was twenty-five, tempered by the long years of solitary training. He wore simple, clean black cotton robes, his presence so still that he seemed to blend into the darkness around him.
Beside him, Xiao Chuan sat cross-legged. The fifteen-year-old boy had grown tall, his features sharp, and a vibrant aura of water Qi circulated around him. His breakthrough to the Early Spirit Foundation Realm was consolidated, his foundation deep and stable. He could easily battle and defeat Mid Spirit Foundation cultivators, just a hair's breadth away from Late Spirit Foundation battle prowess.
Feng Jiu'er sat on the stone bench opposite them. She had consolidated her Middle Core Formation Realm during the seclusion, her presence sharp and cold, like a sheathed sword. Her eyes rested on Fang Lin, watching his breathing.
"You are going back in," she said. Her voice was quiet, carrying no doubt, only a calm observation.
"Yes," Fang Lin replied, his tone flat and steady. "The foundation is full. The meridians are perfected. It is time."
Auntie Mei set down the wooden ladle, her face showing a gentle, silent concern. But she did not ask him to stay. She had seen him heal, seen him protect them, and knew his path was one of survival. "Eat before you go, Lin Er. The herbs are fresh."
Fang Lin nodded, picking up the bowl. He ate in silence, appreciating the simple warmth. Xiao Chuan watched him with quiet reverence, his hands clenched slightly on his knees.
"Big Brother Lin," Xiao Chuan spoke, his voice low. "I will guard the courtyard while you are away."
Fang Lin looked at him, his dark eyes steady. "Train your water path. Do not neglect your foundation. The Mansion Spirit will assist in your cultivation. Make sure you listen to Senior."
"Yes," the boy replied instantly, bowing his head.
After the meal, Fang Lin stood up. His steps made no sound as he walked toward the obsidian chamber. Feng Jiu'er watched him go, her hand resting lightly on the hilt of her sword, but she said nothing. In this mansion, they were safe, but they all knew the outside world was waiting.
Inside the obsidian chamber, the heavy stone door slid shut with a dull thud. The time-dilated formation hummed, setting the gravity to fifteen times the normal rate and shifting the time flow to five times the calendar speed.
Fang Lin sat cross-legged in the center of the dark room. He closed his eyes and began to scan his internal state.
Ten subjective years of training had transformed his foundation. He circulated his Qi, tracing the wide, perfected paths of his Three-River Meridian Network. The icy-white Frost River, the green-gold Life River, and the violet-black Nether River were completely separated, flowing side by side without a single drop of energy crossing the boundaries. The previous weakness that threatened meridian collapse had been completely erased.
He reviewed his skill masteries. Except for the Frozen Heaven Sutra and its Freeze of Ages domain, which remained locked at Smaller Mastery due to the requirements of Mortal Will comprehension, all his other active techniques had advanced by one full layer. Still, this was his trump card.
His Guard Dragon Breath had reached Perfection. A dense, gold-tinted pattern like dragon scales briefly flared beneath his skin before fading, providing an unyielding layer of defense around his vital organs and parallel meridians.
His Moonless Shadow Step was now at Perfection. He could fold distance using the Moonless Shadow Step with absolute silence, leaving no footprint or spatial ripple.
His Moon-Eating Shadow Blade had reached Perfection. The edge of his Nine Abyss Qi was now a pure, light-devouring vacuum that could silently shear through spiritual shields and defensive barriers.
His Abyssal Death Shadow had deepened, allowing him to guide tentacles and spikes of decaying darkness Qi with effortless control.
His frost techniques—Glacial Drift Step, Glacial Needle Piercing, and Stillness Deflecting Mirror—had all reached Small Mastery, their cold Qi sharp and fast.
His three Dew combat techniques had also advanced. His Dew Needle technique of the Dew of Ten Thousand Shadows was at Perfection, ready to shoot microscopic needles of absolute darkness at a single flick. The Soul-Corroding Dew technique of the Dew of Ten Thousand Shadows and the False Body technique of the Dew of Ten Thousand Shadows had both reached Greater Mastery.
Fang Lin focused his attention on his dantian. Stored within his Nether River was the massive accumulation of his seclusion.
Inside the legacy mansion's Yin-cold chamber, his passive generation had yielded five Shadow Dewdrops per subjective day. Over ten years, he had generated a total of eighteen thousand two hundred and fifty Shadow Dewdrops.
Ten thousand of those Shadow Dewdrops had automatically condensed into the cluster of 100 Dark Buds, which now floated in a dense, dark mass.
The remaining eight thousand two hundred and fifty Shadow Dewdrops remained separately inside his Nether River, manifesting as eighty-two separate Dark Buds and fifty raw Shadow Dewdrops. They floated in a silent, dark cloud around the main cluster, stable and separate.
"Loud-boy," a cheeky voice echoed in his mind. The Dark Flame Spirit projected her presence from the Ancient Spatial Furnace, her small form wrapped in dark flames. "Are you finally going to compress that cold flower? Don't make too much noise. I am trying to sleep."
Fang Lin did not answer her. He simply closed his eyes and began to circulate the Nine Abyss Shadow Scripture.
The cluster of 100 Dark Buds began to spin. Fang Lin guided his Qi to wrap around them, drawing them toward a single point in the center of his Nether River.
The buds resisted. A sudden, volatile wave of cold darkness erupted, vibrating violently against his dantian. The pressure was immense, like trying to compress a volatile liquid ocean into a single drop.
Fang Lin remained calm. His Guard Dragon Breath kept his posture solid, and his perfected Three-River Meridian Network held the energy steady. The Frost River and the Life River remained completely quiet and undisturbed, preventing any conflicting elemental explosion. Only the Nether River surged, directing the Nine Abyss Shadow Scripture energy with absolute precision.
Two days passed in the calendar world. Inside the time-dilated chamber, ten days of constant, agonizing compression had elapsed.
The 100 Dark Buds slowly dissolved. Their black liquid essence merged, drawing in the dense Yin-frost Qi of the chamber.
On the third calendar day, the compression reached its peak. A silent ripple of absolute darkness expanded inside his dantian. The buds vanished, and in their place, a beautiful, multi-petaled, liquid-black Midnight Lotus emerged.
It rotated slowly, floating in the center of the Nether River. The Midnight Lotus was complete, serving as a massive, stable energy reservoir for the techniques of the Dew of Ten Thousand Shadows.
Around it, the remaining eighty-two Dark Buds and fifty raw Shadow Dewdrops floated peacefully, untouched by the compression.
Fang Lin opened his eyes. The darkness in his pupils was deep and cold, carrying a faint, purple-black sheen.
As the Midnight Lotus stabilized, a new legacy technique from the complete black jade scripture of the Dew of Ten Thousand Shadows unlocked in his mind: the Night Lotus Bloom.
Fang Lin did not leave the chamber. He spent three subjective days in focused training. He channeled the liquid energy of the Dew of Ten Thousand Shadows from the Midnight Lotus into his palm, compressing it until a small, rotating black lotus manifested. When he released it in the chamber, it bloomed in absolute silence, a shockwave of violet-black fire and darkness dissolving the air.
He consolidated the Night Lotus Bloom to Small Mastery.
Thus, he had gained another trump card.
On the fifth day of the outside calendar world, Fang Lin walked out of the obsidian chamber. His steps were light, his presence completely concealed by his deepened breath of concealment.
In the main pavilion, the elderly mansion spirit was waiting. The spirit looked at Fang Lin, his ancient eyes scanning the young man's chest.
"The Midnight Lotus is complete," the Mansion Spirit spoke, his voice echoing quietly. "It is a stable reservoir for your skills of the Dew of Ten Thousand Shadows. But it is not a core essence. Do not confuse the two."
"I know," Fang Lin replied.
"You are at the peak of the Spirit Foundation," the spirit continued. "Your Three-River network is perfected. But to condense three independent cores simultaneously during Core Formation, your control must be absolute. You need a balancing medium."
Fang Lin remained silent, waiting.
"Go to the Myriad Halls Plaza," the spirit instructed. "Attempt the fifteenth level. The milestone reward left by the creator will assist you."
Fang Lin nodded. He walked toward the transfer circle, his body flashing as the spatial formation activated, transporting him directly to the neutral assembly area of the Myriad Halls Plaza.
The plaza was empty and silent, the massive stone pillars rising into the grey fog. Fang Lin walked to the nearest neutral trial door. As he stepped through, the formation voice echoed, recognizing his progress.
"Level Eleven."
The trial began. Fang Lin did not hesitate. Inside the closed chamber, he swept through the eleventh, twelfth, thirteenth, and fourteenth levels in rapid succession. Against the ordinary Spirit Foundation puppets and beasts, he used only his Moonless Shadow Step and Moon-Eating Shadow Blade at Perfection.
His movements were instantaneous, his blade shearing through their defenses in absolute silence. Within two hours, he cleared all four levels, receiving minor recovery pills and body-tempering materials, which he stored in his leather bag without looking.
Then, the stone doors shifted, and he entered the chamber of the fifteenth level.
The chamber was massive, the walls lined with heavy stone slabs. In the center, a huge, six-armed Asura puppet stood. It was carved from ancient basalt, its joints glowing with a deep red formation light. It emitted an aura of Middle Core Formation battle power, its six arms holding heavy stone halberds.
The puppet's eyes flared red. With a thunderous boom, it charged, its halberds cutting the air in six diagonal arcs, creating a massive wave of red Core Force.
Fang Lin's figure vanished. He used the Moonless Shadow Step at Perfection, folding the distance to appear instantly behind the puppet's head.
His hiltless Night Burial Sword slid into his hand. He channeled his Nine Abyss Qi, executing the Moon-Eating Shadow Blade at Perfection. The light-devouring vacuum edge sliced cleanly through one of the puppet's stone arms, the basalt arm dissolving into dark mist as it fell.
But the puppet reacted instantly. Its remaining five arms spun, creating a circular shield of heavy Core Force that slammed into Fang Lin's chest.
Fang Lin did not retreat. His Guard Dragon Breath hummed in his chest, the scale-like pattern absorbing the impact. He slid back twenty feet, his boots leaving no trail on the stone floor.
The puppet raised its halberds, the red light on its body glowing brighter as it prepared to unleash a massive, crushing blow.
Fang Lin raised his left hand. He drew upon the liquid energy of the Dew of Ten Thousand Shadows in his dantian.
A small, beautiful black lotus composed of pure liquid energy of the Dew of Ten Thousand Shadows manifested in his palm, rotating silently.
"Night Lotus Bloom."
He flicked his wrist, sending the lotus flying toward the puppet.
The Asura puppet swung its halberds to crush it. But the moment the stone weapons touched the black flower, the lotus bloomed.
All sound in the chamber was instantly swallowed. A silent, violet-black shockwave of darkness and fire swept outward in a thirty-foot radius.
The puppet's red Core Force shield dissolved like snow under boiling water. The stone halberds, the arms, and the massive basalt body did not shatter; instead, they silently crumbled, dissolving into fine, cold black ash that drifted to the ground.
The chamber grew still. The violet-black fire faded, leaving only a pile of cold ash where the Middle Core Formation puppet had stood.
The formation voice echoed in the silent chamber.
"Level Fifteen cleared."
From the ceiling, a beam of white light descended, carrying a small, carved white jade bottle.
Fang Lin caught the bottle. Inside was a single, green-gold pill that emitted a subtle, balancing resonance of three different elemental forces.
"Three-Spirit Core-Balancing Elixir."
The spatial formation activated, ejecting him back to the main hall of the Legacy Mansion.
The elderly mansion spirit stood before him, looking at the white jade bottle in Fang Lin's hand.
"You cleared it," the spirit said, a rare hint of approval in his ancient voice. "With the Three-Spirit Core-Balancing Elixir, your dantian and meridians will remain balanced when you condense the Frost Core, the Life Core, and the Death Core simultaneously. The risk of meridian collapse is minimized."
Fang Lin stored the bottle. "Then I am ready."
"Not yet," the Mansion Spirit spoke, his eyes narrowing slightly as he looked toward the inner palace. "The ancient lord left a surprise for anyone who could clear the fifteenth level before breaking through to the Core Formation Realm. Follow me."
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