The five runes, immobilized by Liang’s command, hovered in place as if caught in a trance. Slowly, from their collective glow, the ethereal outline of a human form began to materialize—the essence of the old man’s soul.
Distinct from spirit cultivators, who refine their bodies and nascent divinities, and soul cultivators, who nurture their souls, runic cultivators focus their efforts on cultivating their true runes. In the Runic Mastery Realm, cultivators infuse a portion of their soul essence into these mystical symbols, forging an intimate bond between their being and the power they wield, as longs as the true runes still exist, the cultivator will still have a hope to condense their soul and rebuild their bodies again.
The silhouette of the old man’s soul became more defined, and a faint, otherworldly glow emanated from the runic contours. Liang observed with curiosity .
As the ritual progressed, the old man’s soul, now partially composed of runic energy, began to display signs of sentience. The eyes of the spectral form flickered with awareness.
The old man, immobilized by fear, locked eyes with Liang, pleading for mercy. "Little brother, this old man has done nothing to offend you. Please, just let my soul go."
Liang sneered, his voice a chilling whisper that echoed like the hiss of a serpent. "Let you go, so you could seek revenge after seeing my face? No, I cannot allow that."
The old man, his desperation growing, proposed, his words carrying the weight of a lament. "How about this, young friend? If you’re unwilling to release me, I can offer you a portion of my soul."
Offering a portion of one’s soul to another is akin to entering into a binding pact, where the soul becomes subject to the will and control of the recipient, much like the dynamics of a slave contract.
Liang’s eyes flickered like flames dancing in the wind as the chaos rune began to glow intensely, the sound akin to the distant rumble of an impending storm. "A portion of your soul? I already possess your entire soul," he chuckled darkly, his voice sounded like a haunting echo in the empty void.
Feeling the pull of the chaos rune, the old man screamed in horror, his cries echoing like a chorus of lost souls, but his efforts were futile. Soon, his five runes and soul were assimilated within the chaotic energy, lost to the cosmos amidst a symphony of whispers and screams that faded into the eternal abyss.
With an almost ethereal grace, the chaos rune seamlessly glided back to its rightful position on Liang’s forehead.
In an instant, an overwhelming torrent of memories surged through Liang’s mind, resembling a majestic waterfall that seemed to flow endlessly. Each memory carried the weight of the old man’s experiences, unfolding before Liang’s inner eye like vivid, ever-changing images.
From the initial surprise, Liang’s astonishment transformed into unabashed ecstasy as he realized the profundity of this unexpected occurrence. The profound connection between a portion of the old man’s soul and his true runes granted the chaos rune the ability to absorb not only his comprehension but also a significant fragment of his memories.
Liang closed his eyes, allowing himself to be swept away by a wave of the old man’s memories.
The worn-out old man had already lived for an astonishing two hundred thousand years, his experiences stretching across countless generations.
The old man’s journey began as a mortal, his footsteps guided by fate into the depths of a cave belonging to a deceased runic cultivator. Within its hallowed confines, he discovered the dormant power of true runes, awakening his latent potential as a Quintessential Virtuous. Despite not being hailed as a prodigy on Floria, his talent was undeniable, marked by the uniqueness of his five runes.
Throughout his long existence, the old man bore witness to countless tragedies. He mourned the loss of his sons, their lives cut short by cruel hands, and he sought vengeance against those who had robbed him of his progeny. His quest for retribution led him to the precipice of darkness, where he wielded the might of his true runes to bring ruin upon a runic kingdom in Aetheria, leaving naught but ashes in his wake.
Yet, amidst the chaos and bloodshed, there were moments of solace and heartache. He returned to Floria, seeking solace in the embrace of his beloved wife, only to find her succumbed to the ravages of an unknown illness. The weight of his grief bore heavily upon his shoulders, a burden he carried with stoic resolve.
Within the tapestry of the old man’s memories, there were indeed more instances of heart-wrenching betrayals that marked his journey.
One such betrayal came in the form of a woman he thought he loved with all his heart. She had entered his life during a time of tumultuous change, offering solace and companionship when he needed it most. Their love blossomed, and they made plans for a future filled with happiness and shared dreams. However, as time passed, her true intentions came to light. She had been working as a spy for a rival sect, gathering information about his true runes and plotting to steal them. The realization shattered his heart, leaving him with a profound sense of betrayal and loss.
Another blow came in the form of his closest friend, a fellow runic cultivator with whom he had shared countless adventures and secrets. They had fought side by side, their bond forged through blood and sacrifice. But jealousy and envy corrupted his friend’s heart, driving him to orchestrate a scheme that would lead to the old man’s downfall. In a devastating act of betrayal, his friend revealed his secrets to their enemies, ultimately leading to the destruction of everything the old man held dear.
These betrayals cut deep, leaving scars upon his soul that would never fully heal. They left him wary and distrustful, a shadow of the person he once was. Yet, even in the midst of these profound betrayals, the old man found moments of resilience and strength. He refused to be consumed by bitterness and hatred, vowing to rise above the pain and forge a new path for himself.
Updated from freewёbnoνel.com.
But tragedy, as it often does, soon cast its shadow upon his burgeoning dreams. A rival sect, threatened by his growing influence, embarked on a campaign of deceit and sabotage. They manipulated the world’s most influential figures, turning them against the old man’s sect. Betrayal laced the air as former allies allied themselves with his enemies, severing the bonds of trust and leaving his once revered sect in ruins.
Undeterred by this first catastrophe, the old man retreated into seclusion. Amidst the solitude of the mountains, he delved deeper into the mysteries of runic cultivation, seeking enlightenment ,Through grueling trials and solitary meditations, he brokethrough the Runic Mastery Realm
Emerging from his self-imposed exile, the old man rebuilt his sect from the ground up, attracting a new generation of disciples hungry for knowledge and wielding raw potential. His teachings resonated deeply, as he imparted his wisdom and nurtured their talents, creating a brotherhood bonded by loyalty and shared purpose. The sect flourished once more, its reputation spreading far and wide, until envy and malice erupted from within its very core.
An internal rift tore through the sect, fueled by the ambitions and greed of certain disciples who craved power beyond their worth. As whispered rumors of rebellion grew louder, the old man found himself embroiled in a bitter feud with those whom he had nurtured. Their betrayal cut through him like a double-edged sword, fracturing the unity he had worked so diligently to foster. Slowly but surely, the sect crumbled again, this time from the erosion of trust rather than external forces.
But tragedy, as if an eternal companion on their journey, struck yet again.
As fate would have it, a cataclysmic natural disaster known as the Great Runic Storm plunged the continent into chaos. In the wake of this devastation, the old man’s sect, barely replenished, crumbled for the final time. The Great Runic Storm swallowed everything in its path, leaving the old man bereft of disciples, purpose, and hope. He questioned the very foundations of his existence and whether the pursuit of mastery in runic cultivation was worth the ceaseless suffering it had wrought upon him.
And so, Liang absorbed the tale in its entirety, a mosaic of hardship, betrayal, and loss.