From above, floating in the sky the sect elders saw what was happening below. They were monitoring all the participants to see who was the best and who wasn't.
They looked as the lamp bearer clashed killing each other and taking the lamps from one another. They needed bloodshed to Determine who would rise from the blood. Only the strongest participants will survive.
A sudden power surge made them look towards Alistair side. A bright flash of light for a brief moment filled the side of the mountain.
Most of the remaining lamps lit up in unison as though responding to the light.
After that twenty lamps went off at once. The sigils in the sky burning at her faster rate than ever recorded.
The sect master rose from his seat after witnessing this," The mountain is Feeding faster this time."
All present agreed quietly.
....
Alistair collapsed on his knees after he noticed that no one was around him. Blood socked but still alive. His wounds were healing rapidly.
The fights were tempering him, although he was not satisfied with the results. He felt his comprehension had gotten better.
He was practically unskilled before he joined the trial.
He looked at the four flames revolving around each other merging then separating. Different colors reflecting in it.
Around him the most turned to fog. Visibly reducing. It looked like the mountain was trying to kill them or maybe trap most of them.
Without a lamp a participant was basically food for the Specter.
He had encountered a dozen or so during his walk killing then. He'd saved the souls in his space since he didn't know the effects. He wanted to absorb them somewhere safer than the mountain.
He could hear the mountain whispering loud enough for all the participants to hear. It was a very bewitching sound.
Only one will be my vessel.
Those words stuck with most of the participants.
They knew this was power calling but non knew how to get it.
...
Alistair walked through the dark fog slashing every specter had tried to attack him. They were too weak for him now. Instincts were the only thing guiding him forward.
He didn't know what time it was or how many lamps remained.
He personally had added for flames to his growing collection. Their souls stored in his storage space. Kept for when things got too desperate.
The voice inside the lantern purred , whispering like a lover. Different voices mixed into one. Creating a hypnotic voice.
Feed us, feed us more.
His blade had long lost its rust. Turning into a sharp sword that shone it's reflection into the night. It vibrated when ever she encountered another participant waiting for it's next blood.
Every time he looked into the fog, he saw faces shifting bleeding into one another. All the faces were for people from his previous world and the ones he'd killed.
He could feel it as the mountain pushed every participant into a descent of madness. He could now understand the outside world wariness toward the demonic cultivators. They were walking madmen.
....
Alistair's boots crunched on an old dry bone, breaking it into pieces.
He saw a light glowing dimly near among the ruins. It looked like the lamp was on the verge of dying.
He walked towards it. He found a participant behind a ruined shrine, a boy younger than him, clutching the dying lamp shaking tears streaming down his cheeks.
He must have been one of the forced.
The boy looked at him, his eyes betraying his panic, "stay back," he said while scrambling back his knees scrapping the stones bleeding.
" I found it first...."
Alistair didn't flinch at his pleading.
He slashed his sword watching as it cut in in half, blood spraying everywhere. His sword vibrated as it absorbed the blood.
The flames flickered more violently.
He picked the fallen lamp looking at the dying flames.
The pink flame joined the other. It looked small , but it had still escaped extinguishing.
Alistair felt a wave of power entering him, his skin felt like it was being split apart.
He took out all the souls corrupted and the normal ones and swallowed.
Ding
( Absorbed 20 corrupted souls and 6 quasi souls)
The system chimed in . He ignored it too occupied with the pain. He felt a torrent of screaming souls tearing at his mind. He blacked out for a minute before waking up gasping trembling and grinning.
His stats had basically doubled. He could feel the power moving around his body.
Some of it was trickling in the middle of his stomach, around his navel. He could feel something starting to form but stopped.
He did mind that . Right now he could fight most of the participants without getting injured. The impulsive decision to absorb the souls while the lamps added him power was the best he had ever made.
He had nine lamps in total. He wondered how many the other participants had.
...
Two more hours had passed, Alistair could tell with how many lamps had extinguished. Extinguished lamps sigil was different to that of those destroyed by normal contestants. They burnt crimson while the other burnt golden with crimson mixed in it.
He had stopped counting how many he had killed, some had lamps while others didn't . He'd collected souls after souls just storing them, absorbing souls in large amounts was more beneficial than only just one at a time.
Souls were becoming more of a drug for him both enjoyable while also had it's side effects. He noticed that with each soul he absorbed, something in his mind cracked a little more.
He had started to get tiny bits of the bodies memories. Sometimes he would confuse them as his own before realizing they were not. Sometimes he couldn't tell if the bloodied trembling hands Infront of him were his own or theirs. He was going insane but he couldn't careless.
He had accepted, with great power came greater side effects. No one gets something for free .
When he was on the verge of giving up the lamps would whispered into his mind more vigorously.
" You can't give up now ," the lamps would coaxed him, " they would have killed you if you had hesitated. "
He did have an argument for that , he fallen too Deep without even noticing.
He continued walking forward. He couldn't see the summit but he just walked on , the fog was Soo dark that he had to just move on instinct.
He stumbled into a valley. It looked like a cemetery of lamps. Shattered lamps littered the ground, this raised his vigilance even more. He looked around suspiciously.
The air was filled with a thick smell of smoke and the metallic smell of blood. He knew he wasn't alone.
From above the cliffs looking into the valley, a dozen figures arrived. Their clothes were torn, covered with traces of blood and flesh. They looked at zihan with greed and hate filled eyes.
A tall woman with red markings around her neck that disappeared into her shirt was was the first to jump into the valley.
The others followed after her. Each of them held a lamp. They surrounded him.
Alistair looked for an escape route but nothing. Guess he was going to fight.
" You are messing the trial by killing too many people," the woman said as she pointed her dagger at him," the sect wants balance and you have destroyed it."
Alistair tilted his head, his smile softly .
" Balance," he said as though trying to understand the world," you came here to live . So did I ."
His smile turned thin too wide grin," the only difference is, I learnt how."
She screamed at that.
They attacked him all at once weapons moving towards the same direction. Lamps flaring as they gave power.
Alistair moved like a shadow, his doubling in power and strength had pushed him Soo out of the Leagues of the participants.
His sword cut through the participants like tofu. Killing them before they could even struggle. He stored their souls automatically due to practice from all the fights he had been in.
Specter appeared out of nowhere. There hands appeared from the ground, grabbing their ankles, hindering their fights as they tore flesh from the bodies. Faces appeared in the mist screaming, blurred. Every think in the mountain was hunting for more blood.
More vigorously than when the test began.
The survivors screamed as the sword sliced through them, their last voices before eternal hell greeted them.
The sigil in the sky shifted them ten lines burnt way at once.
When it was all over, the valley was silent again.
Alistair stood alone, surrounded by floating flames .
He lifted his lamp and looked at the flame inside. It now had not one but many flames, merged together in the golden flame. Creating a storm of color.
" How many left," he whispered into the fog.
The flame pulsed just once then the voice answered.
" Fewer than you think," it said," but not enough."