After cursing the System continuously for nearly half a minute, Ethan finally stopped.
His chest rose and fell slightly as he took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down. He knew very well that no amount of cursing, shouting, or venting would ever change the System's demands. The System was emotionless. It neither cared about his anger nor sympathized with his frustration. In the end, all it did was present choices—and consequences.
Once his breathing stabilized, Ethan let out a long sigh.
"…No point," he muttered softly.
Despite all his complaints, deep down, Ethan knew the truth.
Having the System itself was already the greatest blessing he could have ever received in his entire life.
If it were not for the System, how could he have instantly learned this world's common communication language the moment he arrived? Without the System, how could he have survived even his first few days in this unfamiliar cultivation world? Forget about becoming a cultivator—he would have probably died as a nameless corpse on some roadside long ago.
Without the System's assistance, there was absolutely no way he could have stepped onto the cultivation path.
There was no way he could have reached his current cultivation base.
There was no way he could have fought monsters far stronger than himself and lived to tell the tale.
Everything he had right now—his cultivation, his strength, his skills, his survival—was built on the System's foundation.
He was not a genius.
He had never been one.
Even his Talent Pool had originally been nothing more than Mortal Level trash. It was only through the System's intervention that his Spiritual Roots, Physique, and Spirit were raised to their current level. Without it, he would have remained an ordinary nobody, struggling at the bottom of the cultivation world.
With this realization, Ethan shook his head slowly.
"Cursing you really isn't fair," he admitted inwardly.
As for the debt…
Ethan clenched his fist lightly and then relaxed it.
As an experienced gamer back on Earth, he understood one fundamental rule better than most people: early-game suffering was inevitable. In games, the stronger you became, the greater the rewards you received. The System worked on the same principle.
As long as he continued to grow stronger, the missions issued by the System would become more valuable. The rewards would increase exponentially. Higher-level missions would bring in massive amounts of points, currency, and rare items. From that perspective, his current debts were nothing more than an investment.
That part did not bother him too much.
What truly worried him was something else.
As his strength increased, the scale of the System's "generosity" increased as well—and so did the cost.
Every time he became stronger, every time he stepped into deeper waters, the debts he accumulated also grew larger. He could not help but wonder whether, in the future, there would come a point where he would be forced to take on debts so massive that even completing multiple missions would not be enough to repay them easily.
That uncertainty gnawed at him.
"Sigh…"
Ethan exhaled slowly and decided not to dwell on it further.
Right now, he had a more immediate problem to deal with.
"System," Ethan commanded inwardly, his tone firm, "show me the cost of learning the Aldon Language."
[Command Accepted]
[Jotun Language: 1,000,000 Skill Points]
[Detected that the User does not have sufficient Skill Points in the System Database]
[Does the User wish to take a credit of 1,000,000 Skill Points from the System to learn the language?]
"…!"
For a moment, Ethan genuinely thought he was hallucinating.
He blinked once.
Twice.
Three times.
He stared at the notification as if sheer willpower could change the numbers displayed before him.
But no matter how many times he checked, the cost remained the same.
One.
Million.
Skill.
Points.
Only one word escaped his mouth.
"FUCK!!!!!"
His shout echoed faintly through the empty hall.
He was already drowning in debt—more than five hundred thousand Skill Points worth of it. That alone was enough to give him headaches whenever he thought about it. And now, just to learn a damn language, the System was asking him to add another million Skill Points on top of that mountain of debt.
His temples throbbed.
His blood pressure spiked.
His sanity wavered.
"Are you kidding me?" Ethan roared inwardly. "One million Skill Points? For a language?!"
This wasn't some divine technique.
It wasn't a cultivation manual.
It wasn't even a combat skill.
It was just a language.
And yet, the price was absurd.
His fists clenched tightly.
How could he not be disappointed?
How could he not be furious?
"You damn Soul God!" Ethan cursed loudly, his voice filled with frustration and resentment. "You better make sure that your inheritance is strong and mighty! If it turns out to be trash, I swear—once I'm strong enough, I'll come back and destroy your damn resting place myself!"
Of course, the dead Soul God did not respond.
The System did not react either.
Ethan glared angrily at the floating notification screen for a few seconds longer before finally letting out a bitter laugh.
"What choice do I even have?" he muttered.
With a scoff, he spoke aloud, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
"Yes."
[Command Accepted]
[Language Transfer Initiated]
The moment the System confirmed his decision, Ethan felt a strange sensation bloom inside his head.
[Transfer Completed Successfully]
[Congratulations to the User for learning the Aldon Language]
A massive flood of information surged into Ethan's mind.
His vision blurred slightly as an overwhelming amount of data poured directly into his consciousness. Countless symbols, sounds, grammatical structures, cultural contexts, idioms, and linguistic nuances rushed in all at once.
Ethan instinctively closed his eyes.
He did not resist.
He allowed the System to do its work.
The knowledge flowed smoothly, merging seamlessly with his memories, as though it had always been there. There was no pain, no confusion—only a strange, surreal sense of familiarity.
After a short while, the transfer ended.
Ethan slowly opened his eyes.
The sensation he felt was eerily similar to the time he had learned the Mortal Language of this world. It was unfamiliar, yet deeply intimate. Aldon Language was completely new to him, yet it felt as though he had been speaking it since before he was born—since he was still in his mother's womb.
Writing.
Speaking.
Reading.
Literature.
Slang.
Dialects.
Cultural connotations.
Every single aspect of the Aldon Language was now crystal clear to him.
Just moments ago, he had not even known the name of this language.
And now—
It felt as natural as breathing.
Ethan let out a slow breath, a complicated mix of relief and bitterness swirling within his chest.
"Damn you, System…" he muttered softly.
Turning his attention back to the stone that had emerged earlier, Ethan looked at the strange carvings once more.
This time, however, they no longer looked strange.
The symbols were clear.
The meaning was obvious.
A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he read the inscription engraved on the stone pillar.
"If you desire my treasure, ascend to the first floor.
But be warned—only those with true determination may proceed.
Those who lack resolve may lose their lives."
Ethan frowned slightly.
The words themselves were simple.
Straightforward.
Almost blunt.
Yet, the last line made his heart grow heavy.
May lose their lives.
"What exactly do you mean by that?" Ethan murmured.
He stared at the staircase leading upward, his eyes narrowing slightly.
The riddle did not explain the nature of the danger. It did not specify traps, enemies, or trials. It merely warned of death, leaving everything else to imagination.
Despite his doubts, Ethan clenched his jaw.
After coming this far, there was no turning back.
He took a steady breath and gathered his resolve.
Before taking a single step, he activated Heavenly Gaze once more.
His vision shifted, scanning the staircase carefully for any hidden traps, formations, or anomalies. After all, the inscription itself warned that those who sought the inheritance must be prepared to risk their lives.
Surprisingly, Heavenly Gaze detected nothing unusual on the steps.
No red markings.
No hidden arrays.
No immediate danger.
Yet, Ethan did not relax.
He was dealing with the inheritance of the Soul God—a being whose reputation was built upon cunning, cruelty, and absolute dominance. The absence of visible danger only made him more cautious. There was always the possibility that certain mechanisms were beyond Heavenly Gaze's detection.
Still, after multiple checks, Ethan decided to trust his ability.
With a heart filled with tension and uncertainty, he placed his foot on the first step.
Nothing happened.
No arrows.
No sudden collapse.
No hidden blades.
Ethan exhaled quietly, releasing a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.
But his vigilance did not waver.
Step by step, he ascended cautiously.
One.
Two.
Three.
…
Nine.
Still nothing.
This absence of danger made him uneasy rather than relieved.
"If there's nothing here," he thought, "then why would the stone warn about death?"
The question lingered in his mind.
And then—
As soon as Ethan placed his foot on the tenth step, his expression changed.
A strange pressure descended upon him.
At first, it was subtle—so light that he almost mistook it for his imagination. But as he focused, he realized the truth.
This pressure was not acting on his body.
It was pressing directly on his Spirit.
The sensation was foreign yet unmistakable.
The pressure was mild at first, almost negligible. With his strong Spirit, Ethan barely felt any discomfort. However, as he continued ascending, the pressure gradually increased, layering itself bit by bit.
With each step, his spirit felt slightly heavier.
Slightly more constrained.
Ethan's brows furrowed.
"So this is it…" he murmured.
He finally understood the meaning behind the words engraved on the stone.
The trial was not physical.
It was spiritual.
At the beginning, the burden was tolerable. Anyone with a decent Spirit could endure it. But Ethan knew instinctively that this was only the start.
He was merely between the tenth and twentieth steps.
If the pressure continued to increase at this rate, the later steps would be far more dangerous.
Then—
As he placed his foot on the twentieth step, Ethan's body jerked violently.
His advancement came to an abrupt halt.
The pressure—
Doubled.
In an instant, the weight on his Spirit surged, forcing a sharp gasp from his lips.
Ethan staggered slightly, his eyes widening in shock.
"So… this is how it is," he muttered hoarsely.
The true trial of the Soul God's Inheritance had finally begun.