"Your problem lies precisely within these two rings."
Alaric's tone was calm as he pointed at the rings hanging from Soren's neck.
Soren's expression tightened. "Senior also believes these rings are cursed?"
Ignoring his defensive tone, Alaric replied evenly, "Most dismiss curses as superstition, not knowing such forces are very real. But these rings aren't cursed—what happened to you was caused by people, not fate."
"People?" Soren looked confused for a moment, then his face darkened. "Are you saying someone did this to me on purpose? My parents would never… Could their deaths be related?"
Good, he's making the connection himself, Alaric noted inwardly. He waved a hand dismissively. "Whether your parents' deaths are linked, I can't say yet. But your cultivation regression was absolutely caused by these rings."
"An ancient soul resides within them. It has been feeding on your spiritual energy to sustain itself." Alaric's words fell like heavy stones. "This is why your cultivation collapsed three years ago. Every bit of power you've cultivated since then has been consumed by it. You've been nourishing a parasite."
Soren stared down at the rings, confusion slowly giving way to anger. Alaric felt a wave of relief. By framing the entity within as a predator, he had cut off any chance it might have to win Soren's trust.
He had long suspected that while the soul within could aid Soren's rise, it was also the source of his fall. If he hadn't spoken first, the spirit would likely have offered techniques and elixirs to manipulate the boy. Now, only resentment remained.
Alaric braced himself. A direct confrontation was coming. Just then, the weather shifted—clear skies turned heavy with clouds, and low thunder rumbled in the distance. Good. The changing weather will amplify my Thunder Invocation. At least I have that advantage.
A damaged soul, no matter how powerful, would be weakened. He wasn't afraid.
As Soren clenched the rings, a soft sigh echoed around them. "Were it not for the young master's energy, I might have remained asleep much longer."
Soren stared in shock as a soft white light emerged from one of the rings, coalescing into the form of a woman. Alaric froze. The voice was feminine—not the expected "old mentor" but a female spirit?
He looked closer. She wore a robe of pale silver-gray linen, embroidered at the collar and cuffs with dark gold vine patterns. A leather belt set with small sapphires circled her waist, and from it hung several strings of delicate silver runes that glowed faintly as they swayed. She stood with an air of effortless composure. Alaric's instincts screamed—her aura felt as dangerous as the elf girl Lirael's. Beautiful, yet chilling.
Soren felt no desire to admire her either. Hostility burned in his eyes. "You've been feeding on me? This was all your doing?"
"My name is Luna," the spirit said gently. (Note: Spirit named Luna, distinct from the violet-robed girl). "I acted out of necessity. I hope you can forgive me."
"Forgive you? For what?" Enraged, Soren ripped the cord from his neck and hurled the ring toward the ground. It didn't fall. Instead, it hung in the air, its light wavering before stabilizing.
Luna (the spirit) sighed again. "Your anger is justified. But the other ring you hold is the true source of your suffering these past three years." She turned to Alaric, her tone sincere. "This fellow cultivator is sharp-eyed. It is true I absorbed the energy young Soren cultivated these past three years, and for that, I apologize. But his fall from Peak Qi Refining to Early Stage three years ago—that was not my doing."
Soren's face was stormy. He looked from the spirit to Alaric, then down at the remaining ring in his hand.
Alaric remained outwardly calm, but inwardly his alertness sharpened. With a few sentences, she's shifted most of the blame and taken control of the conversation. She's guiding his focus.
Luna (the spirit) continued. "Within that ring resides a remnant soul of the ancient dire beast, Behemoth."
Soren jolted. Behemoth was a legendary destroyer from Oran's myths, ranked alongside the Lord of the Abyss and the Dragon of Chaos. It was insatiable, capable of devouring anything—even Domain-Level cultivators feared its power, as attacks against it were simply consumed.
Alaric frowned, his gaze shifting to the ring in Soren's hand.
"I was gravely wounded ten years ago and forced to entrust my soul to this ring. I slept ever since," Luna (the spirit) explained, her voice tinged with regret. "I awoke three years ago to find Behemoth devouring your spiritual energy—and your life force. I used the 'Sanctum Soul Cage Seal' to imprison its remnant soul, but the effort drained me, forcing me back into slumber. As I slept, I unconsciously drew on your energy to repair my own spirit. I did not mean to cause you hardship. I ask your forgiveness."
Though still suspicious, Soren's expression visibly softened.
Alaric showed no reaction, but his heart sank. He quickly checked the system. The description for "Sanctum Soul Cage Seal" appeared: A secret technique that uses one's own power to create a prison for souls. Effectiveness doubles against spiritual targets. Note: Unique secret art of the Daoist Sanctum, foremost of Oran's Three Great Holy Lands.
✅ SYSTEM:
Faction Points: 750
New Objective: Manage the escalating situation involving the ancient spirit [Luna] and the Behemoth remnant. Prioritize disciple [Soren]'s safety and allegiance.
Warning: Entity [Luna - Spirit] possesses knowledge of high-level holy land techniques. Extreme caution advised.
Note: Weather conditions favorable for thunder-based techniques. Hostile faction [Blaze Sword Sect] proximity unchanged.