"I...!" Saraf was overcome with shame at the teacher's reproach, and the word "I" was barely out before he stood there speechless.
"I'm not just blaming you. This issue has existed in my realm for a long time, and past grievances can only be soothed with time." The old man said as he tilted his body, lying across by the pool and continued teaching his disciple, "Instead of fighting for resources that would escalate the dispute between the two races, it is better to calmly cultivate and resolve our own internal conflicts, which is the right path."
"Ancestor, since you've already accepted it, why do you still pour so many resources into us for the competition?" A figure slowly emerged from the mist of boiling water in the medicinal pool, leapt onto shore. Despite being a proud eleven or twelve-year-old girl, Saraf didn't show any displeasure at her sharing the pool.
"Get back in! You've only soaked for a short while, and the medicinal properties haven't fully seeped in yet; why did I ever take in you troublesome brats as heirs!" The old man knocked on her forehead in a teasing manner, as she playfully stuck out her tongue at him. With a splash, she jumped back into the medicinal pool and giggled, "Ancestor, you do want a less troublesome heir. I heard that in the Spirit Monster Plane, it was said that the Master of Origin from the Hell Plane birthed your bloodline, giggle! But it seems it's just a fool whose intelligence hasn't developed yet."
After saying this, the girl's eyes widened when she saw the old man's face turn beet red with rage. She pretended to get up and hit him, and quickly ducked back into the pool. Long Jin, watching this unfold, was both amused and helpless. In the Spirit Monster Plane, that little girl was one of the few who dared speak to the master like that, a testament to how much the elder doted on her. She was the only one who dared bring up the elder's embarrassing past right to his face.
"Hmph, even a fool is better than you lot, at least it knows filial piety, unlike you ungrateful wretches!" Thinking of his failed experiment left at the investigation hall, the old man felt a pang of regret and guilt, and couldn't help but straighten up and curse.
"Yes, yes, yes! We are all ungrateful wretches! Master, there's no need to be so angry with that rebellious little girl!" Long Jin approached the teacher, fanning him with a palm-leaf fan while rubbing his back to soothe him.
Moved by his good disciple's words, the old man sighed like a playful old child, "I sent you to compete out of necessity. I too have my difficulties, and it seems there's no avoiding the upcoming great battle. You're my family, and I hope you grow stronger to take on important roles on the battlefield. This time, I shamelessly took an Origin Seed from the Daoist Realm's prizes to use on that little girl. I don't expect you to fight desperately in the upcoming personal matches; I just want you to lose with dignity rather than shame!"
The old man, seeing Saraf wanting to speak but holding back, glared at him with imposing force, making the stubborn Saraf shrink back into the pool silently, as the teacher continued his reprimand: "I'm telling you plainly, this competition will be more brutal than previous team contests. Don't expect to vie for the top three positions; let them fight it out! Saraf, curb your temper, and remember not to engage in a death match even if challenged; honor is worth less than your lives. For your sake, for your families, for the Spirit Monster Plane, I won't permit you to waste your lives in this unwinnable competition; you may withdraw if needed."
With that, the elder began to walk out of the valley, saying, "I know you have grievances, but be patient; whether it's gratitude or hatred, you'll have your chance."
Unlike the Origin Body's gentle demeanor with his disciples in the Spirit Monster Plane, Flamel was enduring the greatest pain of his life. His naked body was pierced with countless silver needles, stimulating his body's potential and internal source energy while demanding mastery of his magic skills. He had to quickly cast spells under these conditions, and when he deployed an array, the needles would shift from aiding to hindering, disrupting his source energy flow and causing muscle atrophy.
"Pei Yan has passed the Ghost Realm's trial and fused the Demon Race Essence Blood. Now, he's entered the Sealed Land for the next stage of special training." Outside the training ground, under the dim light, a tall, thin man sat by a chessboard, a pipe in his mouth. Casually mentioning it as he waited for his opponent's move.
"I knew those double-dealing demons betrayed us long ago!" Flamel, about to finish casting, was forcibly interrupted again, and exploded in a howl of rage upon hearing this.
"Stop complaining, you know better than I whether the Demon Race betrayed us. It's an excuse to deceive the ignorant cultivators angry at your failure, and yet you believe it yourself! Are you deluding yourself to comfort your poor, cheap pride? Flamel, defeated by Pei Yan, have you lost even the courage to admit failure?" The tall, thin man exhaled a puff of smoke, and after Moira made a move on the board opposite him, he casually toyed with the pieces, mockingly spoke.
"Pei Yan! Pei Yan! Ugh! Ah!" Hearing the teacher utter that name, Flamel was haunted; Pei Yan and his name had become nightmares to him. The Magic Realm was surprisingly knocked out without a win, and as the team captain, Flamel became a target for blame. If it weren't for the even more disappointing Lanloste taking much of the blame, it would have been difficult for his teacher to protect him.
"Stillness of mind! Stillness of mind! Is that concept so hard to understand, to achieve? Just hearing his name causes such a psychological upheaval; how will you face him and defeat him in battle?" The tall, thin man glared sternly at Flamel, scolding sharply, then turned to Moira before him, dissatisfied, "This is the tenth game today, and without using my abilities, you've won only one! I'm starting to doubt whether gifting you the Line of Destiny was the right choice. You can't even control a chessboard, yet wish to control others' destinies?"
"Teacher, but you're after all...," Moira stopped halfway, realizing that trying to control an Origin Body's destiny, even in a mere chess game, nearly exhausted her spirit.
