Sitting atop the mist, Feng Qi's vision blurred once again.
After clearing an entire region, he followed the Mist Lord to another area to continue the sweep.
By now, Feng Qi had gained over a hundred talent abilities and had slain more than 500 domain creatures.
Among them were multiple creatures of the same species, but he could only extract one unique talent per species. Killing more of the same kind wouldn't yield any further benefits.
What puzzled Feng Qi was that when he killed weaker creatures with little blood energy, he could no longer gain bloodline evolution points—only talents.
For instance, low-level creatures like the Undead.
Killing them now no longer provided bloodline evolution points.
This invisible restriction reminded him of game mechanics, something he had only ever encountered in video games.
He had played online games as a kid.
Many games had a feature where, once a player's level surpassed the monsters' level by too much, they would no longer gain experience from defeating them.
This once again reinforced his old suspicion—was this world actually a simulation or a game?
But whether it was real or not, he had no way of knowing.
At the moment, the fact remained—he could still extract talents from weaker creatures as long as they weren't duplicates, but if a creature's power was too low, it could no longer enhance his bloodline.
This reminded him of the Milestone System he had encountered during his first few entries into the Future Dream Realm.
Back then, the system required that each new trip into the future had to yield more blood energy than the previous one for him to continue progressing.
Further investigation had revealed that this restriction only applied to domain-born creatures.
Now, it seemed this restriction had never disappeared—his body simply wasn't strong enough before to reach this threshold.
But now, as his strength had grown exponentially, things had changed.
As Feng Qi pondered this, the Narrator's voice suddenly echoed in his mind:
"Actually, this isn't necessarily a 'game mechanic.' From a strength progression perspective, it makes perfect sense."
"Think about it—this is similar to how medicine works. If you take a certain drug repeatedly, your body develops an immunity to it, making it less effective over time. The same principle applies here. As your body grows stronger, low-quality blood energy can no longer affect you. Only high-quality blood energy can further enhance you."
Hearing this explanation, Feng Qi nodded in agreement.
The Mist Lord had once told him something similar.
There was a clear distinction between high-quality and low-quality blood energy—no amount of low-quality blood energy could compare to the power of a single drop of high-quality blood.
As one's strength grew, the demand for high-quality blood energy also increased, while low-quality blood energy became progressively useless.
This phenomenon could even be observed in human history.
When humans first encountered spiritual energy, they didn't even realize it existed—they only noticed that their bodies were changing.
As time passed, even ordinary people found their physical fitness improving without knowing why.
The true cause was the spiritual energy particles in the air.
Merely breathing in spiritual energy had passively enhanced human bodies, unlocking latent potential.
Back then, this improvement was extremely fast.
There were even cases of people going to sleep and waking up the next day with noticeably stronger bodies.
This was because spiritual energy was a high-quality energy source, capable of rapidly evolving the human body.
However, 500 years later, this passive enhancement had greatly diminished.
Breathing still helped, but the rate of improvement was now insignificant.
For powerful domain creatures and higher-level beings, this effect was completely nonexistent.
Take the Mist Lord, for example.
There was no way it could improve its body just by breathing in spiritual energy—because its body was already far stronger than the energy particles in the air.
"So, if you think about it logically, this all makes sense," the Narrator continued. "Even with these restrictions, your plundering ability is still ridiculously overpowered—way stronger than Mu Qing's absorption ability. You should be celebrating, not complaining."
Feng Qi chuckled and nodded.
Summoning his status panel, he saw that his bloodline evolution points had now reached 9,899/100,000.
This insane growth speed was exhilarating.
But he also knew the downside—this method of progression was only effective early on.
As he got stronger, the cost of further progress would skyrocket.
Eventually, weak creatures would provide zero benefits, and he'd have no choice but to hunt powerful domain creatures.
And with greater prey came greater risks.
If Little Black didn't end up killing him, a superdomain creature might just do it instead.
Thinking about this, Feng Qi felt even more determined to strengthen humanity.
The stronger humanity became, the more support they could provide him 1,500 years in the future.
If humans could produce a few powerhouses like the Mist Lord, then he wouldn't have to worry about finding strong prey in the future.
Returning to the moment, Feng Qi looked down through the mist.
The Mist Lord had flown toward the southern district of Star City.
Below lay a dense reddish forest, its thick foliage concealing the remnants of old human structures.
The southern ruins of Star City had been completely reclaimed by domain plants, leaving barely any trace of human civilization.
That's when Feng Qi spotted a familiar figure.
A humanoid form, its body composed entirely of fire, burning fiercely.
He was very familiar with fire-elemental beings.
In the ruins of Star City, he had encountered several before.
But aside from one brief clash, he had always chosen to avoid them.
His Evil Will Talent had actually been obtained thanks to a fire-elemental creature.
Back then, the Blood-Eyed Entity had fought against a fire-elemental being and was left severely wounded.
Feng Qi had taken advantage of the situation, delivering the final blow, and unexpectedly gaining the Evil Will Talent, which had been immensely useful in his early battles.
For a long time, he had wanted to hunt fire-elemental beings.
After all, who wouldn't want to be a flame-wielding battle mage?
Perhaps influenced by the Narrator, Feng Qi's initial desire for spell-type abilities had gradually faded.
At first, he had longed to acquire powerful elemental spells, believing they would significantly enhance his combat prowess. But over time, as his mindset evolved, his craving for such abilities diminished.
When the Future Dream Realm was altered by historical events, he never encountered fire-elemental beings again.
To his surprise, this time, he had once again come across a fire-elemental creature in the Future Dream Realm.
Meeting it now felt like fate, as if destiny was giving him a second chance to make up for his past regret.
Without hesitation, he turned to the Mist Lord, who stood shrouded in vapor beside him, and spoke:
"Old Mist, that fire-elemental being below—I'll have to trouble you with it."
The Mist Lord didn't question the request. A massive fog-arm emerged from the swirling mist and extended downward, reaching toward the fire-elemental creature below.
A fierce wind swept through the area, causing the vegetation to sway violently. The fire-elemental creature, sensing imminent danger, looked up at the approaching gray mist hand and let out a sorrowful wail.
It immediately gathered its flames and launched a barrage of fireballs toward the sky.
But as the fireballs struck the Mist Lord's fog-formed hand, they merely caused small ripples—not even close to harming the Mist Lord.
In the end, the gray mist hand completely engulfed the fire-elemental being and brought it before Feng Qi.
Standing in front of the familiar domain creature, Feng Qi showed no mercy.
With a thought, his telekinetic force erupted, instantly extinguishing the flames surrounding the creature and disintegrating its body.
The moment the fire-elemental creature perished, a golden mist surged into Feng Qi's body.
His spiritual sea trembled violently, as golden liquid energy poured into the vast ocean of his consciousness, merging seamlessly.
At the same time, the ninth talent orbit around his dark-gold origin pearl began to manifest a new talent bead, its surface marked with intricate flame-like patterns.
As Feng Qi focused on it, detailed talent information appeared before his eyes:
[Flame Coronation (Passive/Active Special Ability)]
Talent Description:
Passive Effect: Permanently grants fire-element resistance. The strength of this resistance is influenced by both physical and spiritual power.
Active Effect: All fire-element abilities will receive a +20% enhancement when used. This enhancement will further increase as fire affinity improves.
Feng Qi was pleasantly surprised.
Not only had he acquired an ability with both passive and active effects, but the passive fire resistance was an incredible bonus.
Meanwhile, the growth of his spiritual sea also brought an unexpected benefit—his long-suppressed negative emotions seemed to ease slightly.
Although these negative emotions hadn't actually decreased, he felt a sense of relief, as if a burden had momentarily lifted.
However, he knew this problem wasn't truly resolved.
As the Narrator had warned him before, if this issue remained unchecked, the accumulated mental burden would eventually explode one day.
Using mental soothing agents was merely a temporary fix, not a cure—and excessive use came with side effects.
Feng Qi opened his eyes, realizing that he needed a long-term solution.
Perhaps the Mist Lord would know a way.
Turning to the vaporous figure, he asked with a hopeful tone:
"Old Mist, do you know of a way to remove negative emotions?"
The Mist Lord's crimson eyes flickered with thought.
"Negative emotions?"
Seeing his reaction, Feng Qi elaborated further:
"You know that I can travel across timelines. The overlapping memories from multiple timelines not only give me vast amounts of information, but also bring me the accumulated despair, rage, and helplessness of every timeline I've suffered in. Every tragic sacrifice, every struggle, every moment of frustration—it all weighs on me."
Hearing this, the Mist Lord fell into deep thought.
After a long silence, he finally spoke:
"I do know of a place that might help. It's a special training ground—designed to temper one's will and refine the mind. It could be the key to resolving your emotional burden."
Feng Qi's eyes lit up.
"Where is it?"
"It belongs to the Blood Soul Clan, one of the Eight Great Royal Clans. They possess a Miracle Relic that refines one's mind and fortifies the spirit. The best part? They allow outsiders to use it."
"A Miracle Relic that's open for public use? Wouldn't that be dangerous? What if they're creating future threats for themselves?" Feng Qi was stunned.
The Mist Lord nodded as if this was the most natural thing in the world.
"Why not? It's not free—outsiders must pay a hefty price in exchange for access. As long as a faction isn't at war with the Blood Soul Clan, anyone can trade resources for the chance to use it. It's a win-win for them. Not only do they secure additional resources, but they also establish themselves as an unshakable power… You humans had the same strategy before the Great Cataclysm—selling weapons to all sides. Did those arms dealers fear raising a future threat? No. Because, at their peak, they had the confidence to deal with any challenge. The same applies here."
Hearing this, Feng Qi finally understood.
It wasn't that the Blood Soul Clan wasn't worried about outsiders growing stronger—they simply believed that their own foundation was so unshakable that it didn't matter.
The Mist Lord continued:
"Why not give it a try? Strength can always be improved, but your mental burden is far more urgent. If you keep accumulating negative emotions, another few timelines' worth of pain might push you to madness. And I have no interest in working with a lunatic."
Despite the Mist Lord's casual tone, Feng Qi could sense genuine concern in his words.
After some hesitation, he finally nodded.
"Alright, let's go and see if it works."
Seeing Feng Qi agree, the Mist Lord said no more.
Raising his fog-like arm, he suddenly tore through space, revealing a swirling spatial vortex several meters wide.
A translucent barrier of energy quickly formed inside, stretching into the depths of the dimensional tunnel, preventing spatial turbulence from pulling them in.
As the Mist Lord condensed back into his humanoid form, he grabbed Feng Qi and stepped into the portal.
A brief wave of dizziness washed over them.
When Feng Qi's vision cleared, he found himself floating midair—and the sight before him left him breathless.
Suspended in the sky were countless floating islands, arranged in varying heights, interconnected by energy chains that shimmered with power.
At the very center, surrounded by these islands, was an enormous floating landmass, as vast as a mountain range.
Figures could be seen flying back and forth between the islands.
Beneath their feet was a small floating platform, no more than 10 square meters in size, made from the broken fragments of an island.
Many such platforms hovered in the vicinity. Every time a spatial vortex appeared, more people would arrive, landing on these platforms.
Feng Qi's gaze was soon drawn to the center island, where a massive, dark-red banner stood tall.
The flagpole was hundreds of meters high.
The symbol on the flag continuously shifted and morphed, exuding an eerie presence.
Just staring at it made Feng Qi feel as if his soul was being drawn into it.
The Mist Lord calmly explained:
"That is the Blood Soul Banner, the Miracle Relic that allowed the Blood Soul Clan to rise to power. Every enemy slain by their warriors has their soul absorbed into it, permanently strengthening its power."
Feng Qi stared at the Blood Soul Banner from afar, his mind absorbing the weight of its history.
"By now, there's no telling how many souls have been imprisoned within that flag. Every time the Blood Soul Clan goes to war, all they need to do is shake the banner, and their enemies are plunged into despair…"
The Mist Lord sighed, his crimson gaze flashing with what seemed like envy, admiration, and resentment.
"I've seen recordings stored in crystal archives of the Blood Soul Banner in action. The moment it's activated, billions of vengeful spirits erupt from within, blotting out the sky… It's basically like having a cheat code!"
His tone carried a trace of longing.
Then, he turned to Feng Qi and asked:
"What about you? What's the strongest Miracle Relic in your possession right now?"
"Of course, it's the Miracle Will that's bound to me. As long as I have a strong will to live, it makes me almost unkillable. It's helped me escape certain death multiple times and even turn the tide of battle."
Just as Feng Qi was about to continue the discussion, a dark silhouette suddenly shot toward them at blinding speed.
He immediately shifted his gaze toward the figure.
The black shadow flickered through the air, teleporting short distances with each flash.
Within seconds, it had closed the distance.
Feng Qi finally got a good look at it.
It had dark-red eyes, a humanoid form, and stood around 1.6 meters tall.
It wore a lightweight black gauze robe of unknown material.
On its right arm, a dark-red flag emblem was tattooed, and on each cheek, there were three diagonal lines.
The being swept its gaze over Feng Qi and the Mist Lord but said nothing.
The Mist Lord took the initiative to speak.
"We'd like to use the Training Platform."
As he spoke, he opened his right hand, revealing a blue spatial crystal.
The Blood Soul Clan member accepted the spatial crystal, briefly scanned its internal contents, and then slowly nodded.
Raising a hand, they pointed to a small island beneath the central floating landmass.
Before Feng Qi could react, he felt his body suddenly lighten.
The Mist Lord had grabbed his shoulder and was soaring downward toward the designated island.
A brief blurred vision later, they arrived in midair, overlooking the island.
At its center was a platform about the size of a football field, encased in a near-transparent material.
The Mist Lord carried Feng Qi through the semi-transparent barrier, landing them in a corner of the platform.
The platform's surface had a jade-like sheen, and stepping on it felt soft and springy.
Wisps of faint jade-colored mist drifted through the air.
Feng Qi looked up and saw dozens of figures sitting cross-legged on the platform, their eyes closed.
Their expressions kept changing, as if they were immersed in deep emotional experiences.
Then, without warning, a wave of intense dizziness washed over Feng Qi.
A realization struck him.
The jade-colored mist in the air was affecting his consciousness.
The Mist Lord's voice reached his ears.
"Don't resist. You're about to enter the Path of the Heart Refinement. Just embrace it and experience its mysteries… I come here occasionally to temper my will. It helps me gain better control over my Miracle Will."
Hearing this, Feng Qi forced himself to sit cross-legged before the dizziness overtook him.
The moment he sat down, the world around him spun wildly.
Colors flashed in his vision.
Then, ancient statues began to emerge before his eyes.
They looked like they belonged to an era lost to time, radiating an overwhelming sense of age and history.
There were exactly eighteen statues.
Each statue had a gemstone embedded in its forehead, gleaming faintly.
As Feng Qi examined them, the gem on the first statue suddenly lit up.
The statue seemed to come to life, and its stone-carved hand reached out toward him.
In an instant, his entire world shattered like fragile glass.
A new landscape unfolded before him.
A desolate desert, stretching endlessly, with raging sandstorms filling the sky.
Before he could react, a booming voice exploded in his mind like thunder.
"THE FIRST TRIAL OF THE EIGHTEEN HARDSHIPS—THE GREAT JOURNEY OF 300,000 KILOMETERS! WALK ACROSS RIVERS AND MOUNTAINS!"
As the voice faded, a red star flickered in the faraway sky, acting as a guiding beacon.
Feng Qi's jaw dropped.
"Wait, hold on… I have to WALK 300,000 kilometers?! You're kidding, right?"
Then, he realized something even worse.
All of his abilities had been completely sealed.
Even his basic physical enhancements were gone.
The Narrator's voice chimed in.
["Oh wow. 300,000 kilometers? That sounds like a nightmare… Alright, I'm just gonna take a nap. Wake me up when you're done, okay? Good luck."]
Feng Qi gritted his teeth.
So this was the so-called "heart refinement training"…?
Instead of calming his mind, it felt more like pure torment.
But there was no way to exit the illusion.
He glanced at the shining red star in the sky, then took a deep breath.
There was no other choice.
He stepped forward.
The sandstorm raged on, stinging his face like sharp blades.
Determined to finish this as fast as possible, he quickened his pace.
Without his enhanced physique, his muscles quickly began to ache.
He had no idea how much distance he had covered, nor how much further he needed to go.
The sheer monotony of the desert landscape weighed heavily on him.
Yet, something odd caught his attention.
Despite walking for so long, he never felt hungry.
Only exhaustion was real.
For Feng Qi, this wasn't a difficult test of willpower.
He had endured loneliness, despair, and hopeless battles before.
His only goal now was to get this over with and punch the Mist Lord in the face later.
This wasn't heart training—it was psychological torture.
Like a wandering monk, he marched forward, resisting the weariness overtaking his body.
Days turned into weeks.
Weeks into months.
Time became a blur.
At some point, his mindset changed.
His initial frustration and impatience slowly faded into calm acceptance.
Instead of rushing, he started observing his surroundings.
The sandstorms, the stars, the rhythm of day and night, the footsteps beneath him—he began to take notice of everything.
And just like that, the agitation in his heart was soothed.
He didn't know how much time had passed, but eventually, the endless desert began to change.
The golden sands vanished, giving way to a lush rainforest brimming with life.
He heard birdsong, the distant roar of beasts, and the soft rustling of leaves in the wind.
For the first time in ages, he felt connected to the world around him.
He saw animals being born, struggling to survive, fighting for dominance.
He witnessed life itself unfold in all its forms.
It was as if the laws of the world were revealing themselves to him.
His mentality was shifting—slowly, but surely.
Eventually, the rainforest disappeared, replaced by a land of endless snow and ice.
He continued walking.
Days? Months? Years?
He couldn't tell anymore.
Yet, his heart was no longer filled with restlessness—only understanding.
And so, the trial continued.
Feng Qi gradually forgot that he was undergoing a trial. He simply walked forward. The exhaustion in his body had become second nature to him, but it never once shook his determination to continue.
Finally, after crossing snow-capped mountains, lakes, and vast grasslands, he reached the end of the Trial of the Long Road.
A shimmering red star hovered before him.
As his fingertips touched the star, the familiar hazy statue reappeared before his eyes.
At that moment, he realized—he had just walked the same Path of Heart Refinement as the figure carved in the statue.
The surrounding scene dissolved like drifting sand, revealing the eighteen statues that were both strange and familiar.
A flood of memories surged into his mind.
But this time, the overwhelming impact of memory merging didn't happen.
Instead, Feng Qi felt that his control over negative emotions had reached a new level.
Before, he had always tried to resist and suppress his negative emotions.
Now, he had come to terms with them.
He accepted them as a part of himself, something akin to a Heart Demon that needed to be refined and absorbed.
The hidden danger of accumulating negative emotions still hadn't been resolved, but his resistance to them had improved substantially.
[Little bro, you're a beast. You actually walked through all 300,000 kilometers. I gotta say, I admire your willpower. You never let me down.]
Hearing the familiar voice of the Narrator, Feng Qi grinned.
"A'Bai, you stayed quiet on purpose, didn't you? So you wouldn't interfere with my Path of Heart Refinement in the illusion?"
[Hehe, you caught me. If you had been chatting with me the whole time, your heart refinement would have been way less effective.]
With the first trial complete, Feng Qi turned his gaze toward the second statue.
The moment his eyes locked onto the gem on its forehead, the gemstone glowed brilliantly, and the world around him shifted once again.
This time, he found himself in a small village nestled among green mountains.
The village was shrouded in misty rain, wisps of smoke curling from chimneys, creating a serene and vibrant atmosphere.
His vision flickered, and suddenly, he realized his clothes had changed—he was now wearing a patched-up, tattered hemp robe.
He had become a scrawny young boy.
In front of him, not far away, was a stove with a burning fire, emitting a strong, choking smoky smell that made him frown.
Then, a booming voice erupted in his mind like thunder.
[THE SECOND TRIAL: THE CHALLENGE OF LONGEVITY! TO LIVE BEYOND A THOUSAND YEARS AND TRANSCEND THE MORTAL REALM!]
Feng Qi instantly understood the nature of this trial.
Unlike the Trial of the Long Road, this one was called the "Trial of Longevity".
Clearly, it meant that achieving longevity was difficult.
And the phrase "live beyond a thousand years" meant that he had to survive for a full millennium.
[This is just unfair. You, a guy who probably wouldn't even make it to a hundred, now have to challenge a THOUSAND-YEAR lifespan? Dude, just give up already. See if there's an exit button and cut your losses.]
Ignoring the Narrator's sarcasm, Feng Qi began contemplating how to overcome the limits of lifespan.
Stepping out of the straw hut, he saw the mountain village, surrounded by towering green peaks.
Looking up, he could see low-hanging clouds, almost within reach.
In the distance, misty rain veiled the rolling mountains, making the scene look like an immortal paradise.
Then, suddenly, he saw a dragon-shaped silhouette weaving through the mist.
The next moment, a deafening dragon's roar echoed across the valley.
This unexpected sight made Feng Qi realize something—this illusionary world was far from ordinary.
He didn't know if this was a replica of a real Domain World, or perhaps a projection of an ancient past.
One thing was certain—this world contained supernatural powers.
Otherwise, how could a normal person ever defy the natural lifespan limit?
Looking at the villagers wearing straw raincoats hurrying past, Feng Qi decided to first gather information about this world.
In the following days, through conversations with the villagers, he gained a preliminary understanding of the world he was in.
The first thing he learned was his identity.
According to the villagers, his parents had vanished while foraging for herbs years ago and were presumed dead.
He was now an orphan, living off the charity of the village.
Outside the mountains, spirit creatures, ghosts, celestial cranes, and even dragons roamed.
There were also various methods of cultivation for extending lifespan…
This world was vast and mysterious.
To seek the path of longevity, Feng Qi began stockpiling food, preparing to leave the mountains and explore the outside world.
After several days of preparation, he packed dried food and set off down the rugged mountain path.
However, trouble came fast.
The mountains were crawling with ferocious beasts, and in his current form—weak and frail—he was completely helpless against them.
Before he could even resist, he was devoured whole by a wild beast.
His journey ended instantly.
The world shattered, and he found himself back before the eighteen statues.
Feng Qi: …
Then, he heard the Narrator burst into laughter.
[HAHAHAHA! Bro, you really might be screwed on this one. How are you supposed to live a thousand years when you can't even last a day?]
Feeling frustrated, Feng Qi once again turned his gaze toward the second statue.
The moment his eyes met the gem, the gemstone glowed again, and the world around him collapsed.
Once more, he found himself back in the misty mountain village.
Everything had reset.
Determined to surpass the limitations of mortality, Feng Qi decided to try a different approach to leaving the mountains.
He realized something—if the village could survive in these dangerous mountains without being wiped out by wild beasts, then there had to be something protecting it.
Through a conversation with the village chief, he learned the answer.
The village had a special method for tempering the body.
Only a select few could practice it.
These practitioners were the protectors of the village.
As for why only a few could train in it, it wasn't due to talent limitations.
There were two main reasons:
① Extreme endurance was required. The training involved intense physical suffering, beyond what normal people could endure.
② High energy consumption. The training drastically increased appetite, requiring large amounts of meat for sustenance, and also required regular herbal ointment treatments—resources that were limited.
The village couldn't afford to let too many people train.
Understanding the situation, Feng Qi made up his mind—he would start training his body in the illusion.
Before diving in, he tested whether he could use martial arts techniques from the real world, like Tiger Fist.
The results were disappointing.
None of the martial techniques from outside worked here.
Since that path was blocked, he had no choice but to train using this world's methods.
Feng Qi sought out the old village chief, hoping to learn the body-refining technique.
The village chief did not refuse his request.
The next challenge was gathering resources.
Before beginning his training, Feng Qi made it a daily habit to forage for herbs in the nearby mountains, preparing in advance for any needs. However, he never ventured too deep, fearing another encounter with wild beasts.
After a month of preparation, he officially began training.
The body tempering technique itself wasn't difficult—the key lay in the use of herbs.
After crushing the herbs he had collected, he extracted their juices and applied the green liquid all over his body before beginning the self-inflicted strikes.
Through repeated pounding and impact, the herbal essence seeped into his skin and was gradually absorbed.
This was the first step of the training process.
Day after day, Feng Qi dedicated himself fully to tempering his body.
This training method was extremely damaging to the body.
Unlike the techniques he had encountered before, which nourished the body, this village's body-tempering technique focused on squeezing out one's potential.
As a result, those who practiced it rarely lived past forty.
This unsettling reality put even greater pressure on Feng Qi.
Determined to leave the village as soon as possible, he intensified his training and pushed his body to its limits.
He knew this method would inevitably cause harm, but he believed that once he reached the outside world, he could find ways to heal himself.
Escaping these mountains was the priority.
Otherwise, he would spend his life trapped here, growing old and dying in isolation.
Time flew by like an arrow, and in the blink of an eye, three years had passed.
Throughout these three years, Feng Qi woke up at dawn every day and trained relentlessly.
His skin became rough and calloused, yet his defensive capabilities had improved significantly. His strength had multiplied several times over.
Finally, he decided to attempt his second escape from the mountains.
Packing enough dried rations, he embarked on his journey, climbing over mountain after mountain in a single breath.
But the mountain path seemed endless.
Each time he scaled a peak, there was yet another towering ridge ahead.
Having endured the Trial of the Long Road, the exhaustion of endless walking no longer affected his mindset.
He remained patient, continuing forward step by step.
But this time, he suffered far more than just mental fatigue.
He endured ferocious beast attacks, poisonous insect bites, and countless other unexpected dangers.
Every second, he had to stay vigilant, as any lapse in caution could mean instant death.
It felt as if the path to longevity itself carried a curse, punishing all who dared to seek it.
But Feng Qi persevered.
His clothes were torn to shreds from the journey, his hair had grown wild and unkempt, and whenever he caught a glimpse of his reflection in a river, he felt like a savage beast rather than a man.
But for immortality, he had to press on.
Finally, after crossing countless mountains, the never-ending peaks were replaced by an open grassland stretching into the distance.
He had escaped the mountains.
Standing on the lush plains, he spread his arms wide.
The breeze ruffled his hair, and a faint smile appeared on his face.
Countless nights flashed through his mind—nights spent hiding in dark forests, licking his wounds and barely surviving.
Now, standing under the moonlight, gazing at the vast field, he felt a deep sense of liberation.
The shackles that had bound him for so long had finally broken.
From that day forward, Feng Qi began exploring civilization and continued his quest for the path to longevity.
He soon learned from a nearby town that twenty miles east, atop a mountain, immortals were rumored to appear, taking in worthy mortals and teaching them the path to eternal life.
For Feng Qi, this news was nothing short of exhilarating.
Wasting no time, he set off to climb the so-called Immortal Mountain.
The mountain's air was thin, and few people lived there.
Most of those who gathered on the mountain were like him—seeking an immortal fate.
They had formed a small community, waiting for their chance at transcendence.
Feng Qi settled in and began his long wait.
Years passed.
Five years blinked by.
During this time, the group of hopefuls constantly changed—many couldn't endure the cold, isolation, and hardships, leaving after only a few days or months.
But to Feng Qi, the path to immortality was a rebellion against fate.
How could someone without great perseverance ever hope to defy the heavens?
Thus, this wait became yet another grueling test of his resolve.
Fifteen years passed.
Feng Qi was now thirty-three.
The consequences of his body-tempering were beginning to show.
His organs felt like rusted gears, his youthful vitality had long since faded, and even walking a few steps left him gasping for breath.
Just when he thought his time was up, fate intervened.
One day, an immortal bridge suddenly materialized in the sky.
A celestial figure descended from the clouds, standing at the bridge's end.
With a wave of their hand, Feng Qi and a dozen others who had waited for this moment were lifted into the air.
They crossed the celestial bridge, passed through an invisible barrier, and entered a hidden world.
A mystical sect existed here, concealed from the mortal realm.
But joining the sect was only the first step—new trials awaited.
Simply entering an immortal sect did not guarantee eternal life.
They were treated as lowly servants, tasked with menial labor to serve the sect.
To rise above this status, they had to prove their worth by completing a series of challenging tasks.
The only solace was that they received spiritual medicine at regular intervals.
These elixirs helped nourish the body and gradually healed Feng Qi's lingering ailments.
For years, he endured humiliation, working tirelessly to seize his chance at immortality.
Finally, at seventy years old, he shed his status as a servant and became a true disciple of the sect.
Of the original batch of mortals who had arrived with him, he alone had succeeded.
The others had either given up or been expelled for failing their trials.
After decades of toil, Feng Qi was finally allowed to study the sect's true cultivation techniques.
He learned an ancient breathing method, a technique for converting spiritual energy into longevity.
With this knowledge, his sense of time began to blur.
Years passed like a fleeting dream.
In the Narrator's excited cheers, Feng Qi surpassed a hundred years of life.
But this was only the beginning—he was still far from his goal.
After two hundred years of peaceful cultivation, disaster struck.
The sect was attacked by external enemies.
The resulting war left countless dead, and Feng Qi perished in battle.
When he awoke, he was once again standing before the eighteen statues.
The centuries he had lived in the illusion now felt like a long, surreal dream.
But he refused to give up.
To complete the Trial of Longevity, he challenged it once more.
This time, he left the sect before its inevitable destruction, abandoning the home he had lived in for two centuries.
Without the sect's protection, he became a wandering cultivator—a rogue immortal in a ruthless world.
Only now did he truly understand how merciless the world outside was.
The sect had been a sheltered garden, but the real world was a battlefield where only the strong survived.
To obtain resources, one had to be ruthless.
Without power, survival was impossible.
The world beyond the sect was cruel.
There were demonic sects that captured cultivators to refine them into elixirs, and monstrous creatures that delighted in devouring a cultivator's heart. The dangers were endless.
To survive, Feng Qi learned many survival techniques and treaded carefully, as if walking on thin ice.
Time flowed like a river.
At 312 years old, he broke through his cultivation realm, and his lifespan extended to 500 years.
But if he wanted to advance further, he needed vast amounts of resources as a foundation.
The road to immortality was paved with struggles, but what it lacked most was wealth.
To gain more cultivation resources, Feng Qi experimented with different methods of acquiring wealth.
He tried running a business, hoping to sustain his cultivation through profits.
But running a business required power to protect one's wealth.
After decades of effort, he built a thriving pill-making workshop, only to have it raided by stronger forces. His life ended in a bitter failure.
In his next life, he tried different means of resource acquisition.
He even resorted to robbery at one point—until he messed with the wrong target and encountered one of those "hidden masters" from cultivation stories, who pretended to be weak before easily killing him in return.
After countless resets and struggles, Feng Qi gained deep insights into the nature of life.
Immortality was a distant, unattainable treasure, luring countless seekers to stop at nothing in pursuit of it.
Yet, in the end, only a few succeeded, while most were swallowed by the endless conflicts along the way.
Finally, Feng Qi crossed the threshold of a thousand years old.
He had witnessed countless sunrises and starry nights, endured the weight of time, and walked a path of endless trials.
At 1000 years old, he returned to the village where it all began.
But everything was gone.
The village had long been reclaimed by nature, with lush greenery covering what once was his home.
At that moment, an overwhelming loneliness filled his heart.
A thousand years was just one checkpoint.
Beyond it lay ten thousand years, then millions, and beyond that, eternity.
There was no end to the path of immortality.
Deep inside, he realized—he didn't want this kind of eternal life.
This was not the path he wished to take.
Dressed in simple green robes, he stood in the misty rain, and his figure slowly faded away.
When his vision cleared, he found himself back before the eighteen statues.
The second trial was complete.
The memories of his time in the illusory world condensed, forming into a single memory bubble in his mind.
Unlike the sacrificial timelines he had experienced before, these memories were not real.
They flashed through his mind like a long movie, playing scene after scene, but without the weight of reality.
The greatest lesson he took from this trial was the meaning of life itself.
At that moment, Feng Qi turned his gaze toward the crystal platform before him.
In an instant, the scene collapsed, and his vision blurred.
When his sight cleared again, he was back at the training platform, with Mist Lord watching him closely.
"How many trials did you pass?" Mist Lord asked curiously.
"The second one," Feng Qi replied.
As he spoke, he suddenly felt something slipping away from his mind.
His memories of the illusory world were fading, retreating like a receding tide.
He tried to recall everything he had experienced, but the images became vague and unreachable, like illusions reflected on water.
Seeing his confusion, Mist Lord explained,
"The memories of your training in the illusion world will rapidly disappear after you finish. After all, each trial spans an incredibly long period of time. Later, you'll face challenges like Loss and Gain, Slaughter, Cataclysm, and many more. If all those memories were retained, the sheer overload would destroy your sense of time."
"To prevent that, this Miracle Spirit Platform automatically erases the memories after you complete a trial. However, the insights and emotional growth you gained will remain."
Hearing this, Feng Qi finally understood and no longer resisted the fading memories.
[This artifact is actually quite useful. It's perfect for those who gain strength too quickly but lack the mental stability to handle their power. It'll help you too, since once your mental resilience improves, you'll handle your negative emotions differently... But still, this doesn't solve the root issue. Your negative emotions are still there, and eventually, they'll become your inner demons. Only Infinite Memory can completely resolve this problem.]
Hearing the Narrator's analysis, Feng Qi silently nodded in agreement.
He then turned to Mist Lord and asked curiously,
"Old Mist, how many trials have you passed in the illusion world?"
"I'm currently in the eighth trial, the Trial of Loss and Gain. In this one, you continuously receive the things you desire most, only to lose them again and again. I don't remember the specifics, but I do remember—it was torment."
Even though Mist Lord claimed to have forgotten the details, Feng Qi could guess what he went through.
There were two things Mist Lord desired most—his clansmen and his dream of reaching the peak.
The Trial of Loss and Gain likely forced him to experience losing his entire race again and again, or perhaps, he reached the peak of power, only to be stripped of everything moments later.
Just imagining it was agonizing.
[I wonder which Pillar God's power created this Miracle Training Platform? That guy must have been some kind of ascetic monk, spending his entire existence experiencing all kinds of suffering just to comprehend "truth." I gotta say—respect.]
Regarding the Pillar Gods, Feng Qi still had very little information.
From what he gathered, they seemed to be ancient deities who had lived through past great calamities.
Their remnants of power had evolved over time, turning into Miracle Artifacts, some complete, some fragmented.
But with so little information, the true nature of the Pillar Gods remained a mystery.
Just as he was deep in thought, Mist Lord's voice snapped him back to reality.
"The trials in the illusion world need time to process. There's no point in rushing through them one after another. Let's go."
As he spoke, Mist Lord grabbed Feng Qi by the shoulder and pulled him through the transparent membrane covering the platform.
Then, with a casual wave of his hand, a spatial vortex appeared before them.
"We're leaving already?" Feng Qi asked.
"What? You wanna stay here and wait for Little Black? If you die, at least die somewhere else! If you die here, who's gonna take care of me?!"
"Face the Blood Soul Clan head-on, survive against all odds, turn despair into victory—that's your specialty!"
Hearing these words, Mist Lord's forehead veins twitched, and his arms faintly began turning to mist.
Sensing impending danger, Feng Qi quickly changed his tone.
"I was just joking! Don't take it seriously!"
The next moment, Mist Lord vanished and reappeared behind Feng Qi, lifting his foot.
Before Feng Qi could react—he was kicked straight into the spatial vortex.