Ragon paced slowly across the platform, his thoughts churning like a storm. Fragments of his journey flashed in his mind the brutal trials, the endless hours of meditation, the agony of forging his Spiritual Sea, and the chaos of refining divine energy.
"What kept me alive through all of this? What stopped me from falling apart?"
He stopped pacing, eyes narrowing with sudden clarity. Turning to Ashar, he spoke with quiet conviction.
"Balance," Ragon began, his voice calm but firm, "is the harmony between the three pillars of cultivation the body, the spirit, and the mind."
Ashar said nothing, watching him with a steady, unreadable gaze.
"The body," Ragon continued, "is the vessel the anchor that ties us to existence. Without a strong body, spiritual energy has no home, and the mind cannot act."
He lifted his hand, gesturing to the shimmering expanse around them. "The spirit is the energy that fuels us, connecting us to the higher realms. Without refined spiritual energy, the body remains mortal, and the mind lacks the power to manifest its will."
Finally, he tapped his temple. "And the mind… the mind is the guide. It directs both body and spirit, binding them with intent. Without clarity of mind, the body stumbles, and the spirit runs rampant."
He drew a deep breath, the pieces falling into place as he spoke. "To ascend without self-destruction, one must bring all three into harmony. The body must be tempered, the spirit refined, and the mind disciplined. Only when they move as one can a cultivator withstand the heavens."
Silence fell. The air felt charged, the space itself holding its breath. Ragon could hear the faint beat of his heart as he waited for Ashar's response.
Then, slowly, Ashar's lips curved into a faint smile. "An impressive answer, Ragon. But tell me this...what happens when one of the three pillars falters? What is the cultivator's duty then?"
Ragon blinked, caught off guard by the question. He frowned slightly, thinking it through before answering.
"When one pillar falters," he said after a pause, "the other two must carry its weight. If the body weakens, the mind and spirit must guide it back to strength. If the spirit grows unstable, the body and mind must anchor it. And if the mind falters…"
Ragon paused, clenching his fists. "Then the body and spirit must endure until the mind finds its way again. A cultivator's duty is to adapt..to find balance even in imbalance. That's the only way to survive and keep moving forward."
Ashar's glowing form flickered faintly before he let out a low chuckle. "You possess wisdom beyond your years, Ragon. Your understanding of this truth is far deeper than I expected. Answering that question correctly alone proves there's nothing left for me to test. You have passed...and earned my legacy."
Ashar smiled faintly and extended his palm. A moment later, he snapped his fingers.
At once, an overwhelming aura surged around Ragon. He felt as if he were being pulled into another realm. In his mind, countless words, symbols, and memories began flooding in, as though an entire library were being carved into his consciousness.
Ashar's voice echoed around him, even as his form began to fade.
"What you're experiencing now is everything I learnt throughout my life," Ashar explained. "My chosen path was the Path of the Mind one of the most difficult principles to master."
In cultivation, every individual followed a unique principle or discipline beyond their main attribute be it the sword, the elements, or the spirit. The Mind Principle was among the rarest and most demanding, requiring immense clarity and control. It was a path only monks or ascetics dared to tread.
Ashar's voice continued, calm but distant. "It may take you weeks, months, or even years to comprehend what's now running through your mind. How fast you grasp it depends entirely on your physical and mental endurance."
Before Ashar could finish, Ragon suddenly interrupted.
"I'm done," he declared loudly, eyes widening as he focused on the fading echo of Ashar's presence.
Ashar froze mid-sentence, his phantom flickering. "What… did you just say?"
"I said, I'm done," Ragon repeated, his tone completely serious.
For a long moment, Ashar simply stared, utterly stunned. "That's… impossible," he muttered under his breath. "Is this boy even human?"
Ragon crossed his arms with a smirk. "You were saying?"
Ashar's expression flattened. "Nothing," he said dryly, realizing Ragon was deliberately provoking him.
"So," Ragon continued, glancing around, "what happens next? Because honestly, I don't feel any different. Are you sure this so-called legacy of yours is even useful? To be fair, I think those puppets you had were more practical than this whole memory transfer."
Ashar's phantom flickered violently, as if on the verge of bursting a vein...if he still had one.
"Foolish boy!" he barked. "How can you compare a lifetime of enlightenment to mere puppets? You'll gain immense benefits from this inheritance, but not instantly. Your body isn't strong enough to process even half of what's in your mind. If you try to access it recklessly, you'll tear your body apart from the strain."
He sighed heavily, shaking his head. "I may have just given my legacy to someone who is both brilliant and utterly insufferable."
Ragon shrugged. "Oh, so no instant power-up, huh? In that case, I assume you've got some actual treasures hidden somewhere? Because, honestly, I told you from the start....I wasn't that interested in your legacy."
Ashar's ghostly face twisted with exasperation. "This…" He stopped himself from arguing further and simply groaned. "You know what? Fine. I'm done reasoning with you."
He waved a glowing hand toward the far end of the chamber. With a soft hum, a door materialized in the wall behind Ragon, slowly creaking open to reveal a hidden chamber bathed in golden light.
"There. Take whatever you want," Ashar said tiredly.
Ragon's eyes lit up. "Now this is what I came for!" he said, striding eagerly toward the door.
As Ragon vanished into the treasure room, Ashar floated silently, his fading form glowing faintly in the dim light.
Ashar sighed, shaking his head. "I may have just passed my life's work to the most hard-headed genius I've ever met."