First, because it gained their loyalty—and their families' loyalty. They would feel grateful that their master had shared such a powerful scripture, one that enhanced talent and let them walk cultivation path farther. They would thank him for letting their families walk the cultivation path alongside them instead of dying midway due to limited lifespan and talent.
But Heart Clone would never stake his and his family's future on gratitude alone. Human nature was unpredictable. What if they didn't feel grateful?
Second, he believed in himself. If anyone ever decided to betray him and tried to harm him or his family, Heart Clone would erase them with his own power. He trusted his strength to handle any threat.
Third, he was the creator of the cultivation system and the Mortal Foundation Scripture. If he wished, he could strip away their earned power and talent with a single thought—leaving only their innate talent untouched.
Because of these reasons, he didn't worry about betrayal or attack. He can also gain many powerful warriors under him if he let them practice the scripture.
But there were still unpredictable things.
Like the being who once said, "All things are possible." What if that being decided to help the betrayers grow stronger?
What if other powerful civilizations or ancient artifacts intervened?
There were many unknowns.
But Heart Clone's thoughts were simple.
"If those unpredictable things were truly powerful, why would they help betrayers? They could just come fight me directly, right?"
Alas… Heart Clone's thoughts were really that straightforward.
***
Coming back to the present, Heart Clone smiled gently toward his disciples.
"I can understand your families' complaints. Don't worry. Your families' problems will be solved soon. Now off you go. I have some work."
Hearing this simple sentence, the disciples sighed in relief and moved off to their own tasks. They didn't talk about their no-internet complaint. It's just a distraction anyways. The disciples thoughts were simple, "Without Internet, it's much peaceful."
Heart Clone watched them leave.
He hadn't lied to them.
He had already planned this.
He intended to use the Central Academy on the island as a place of teaching. But it would take time. He didn't want the students at the academy to feel pressure from the disciples' family members.
The disciples' families were already strong—both in body and mind. If they joined the same academy as normal students, the ordinary children would feel crushed by the gap.
So he first wanted the disciples' families and the island students to reach near the same level. Equal might be difficult, but close would be good enough.
So would Heart Clone let the Central Academy students start practicing the Mortal Foundation Scripture? Or give them the real cultivation system?
Well… that was left to be seen.
***
Then Heart Clone stood up from his place.
With a small gesture, space folded around him like rippling water. A passage opened—silent, dark, edged with faint violet light—and he stepped through.
The cafeteria hall vanished. He emerged at the stable space passage leading to Dark Haven fortress. He stepped through it.
He then emerged in the Dark Haven fortress.
The air here was cooler, heavier. Heart Clone moved without pause, heading straight toward the forging chamber where Solar Clone had asked him to come.
The forging chamber looked modest from the outside—just a low, black stone building, no bigger than a small house, its surface scarred by heat and time.
But the moment he crossed the threshold, space unfolded.
Inside, the chamber was vast—around 2000 km of open, scorched land stretching in every direction. Smaller than the 5000 km Beast Continent, yes, but this place had no need for forests or mountains. It existed for one purpose: forging.
Black, cracked earth stretched endlessly under a sky of perpetual crimson haze. Rivers of lava flowed slowly through fissures, glowing bright orange against the dark ground. Pits of molten metal bubbled and hissed. Flames danced in unnatural patterns—blue-white in some places, deep red in others.
Discarded weapons and artifacts lay scattered across the landscape like forgotten toys.
Broken swords that could slice through humanity's strongest tanks as easily as paper.
Shattered spears that can pierced mountains.
Mysterious orbs and rings that pulsed with power strong enough to destroy cities and towns with a single thought.
All of them lay there, abandoned, half-buried in ash or half-melted into the ground.
The truly powerful items—the ones that could threaten entire nations—were safely stored in Solar Clone's private storage world. These were the failures, the experiments, the "good enough" pieces discarded in pursuit of perfection.
Heart Clone stepped forward quietly.
He saw Solar Clone in the distance working on something.
Heart Clone didn't disturb him.
He simply watched.
The air thrummed with heat and power. Lava rivers hissed in the background. Discarded blades glinted faintly under the crimson sky.
Solar Clone worked in silence.
Heart Clone waited.
Whatever Solar Clone was creating… it was important.
And Heart Clone was here to help.