Feng Hao settled his gaze on the chasm below, letting the Nine Divine Golden Dragons coil lazily overhead, their presence bending the ambient Dao subtly around the crowd of cultivators. The crowd shifted under his weight, but he remained calm, unmoving, a judge observing a game played at a level he scarcely needed to engage with.
His attention focused, scanning the vast inheritance. The gap was divided into three distinct sections, each layered with formations and treasures, clearly designed to test both skill and insight.
Three of the Ancient Elders, hovering at the edge of the observation, whispered among themselves, their expressions faintly unimpressed:
"Junior… this is mediocre," said one, tone tinged with boredom.
"Indeed," added another, "a Lord Taoist inheritance, and yet hardly worthy of a Glance."
The third muttered under his breath, a smirk crossing his ageless face, "The designs are simple… uninspired."
Feng Hao, ignoring their commentary, activated the subtle observational arrays within his mind. His system pinged, scanning for patterns, potential players, and anomalies.
Immediately, a highlighted template appeared: a protagonist signature.
Name: Lin Feng
Gender: Male, young
Cultivation: Lord Realm (probably the lowest among the gathered)
Template detected: Protagonist A
Feng Hao's eyes narrowed slightly as he traced the aura flow. Near Lin Feng, another figure's presence resonated distinctly—a female cultivator, markedly stronger at Supreme Lord level.
Relation: Companion, probably lovers
Current Action: Partaking in the First Level inheritance simultaneously
The subtle connection between the two was visible in the aura flow—interwoven, complementary, and synchronized in cultivation rhythm. Their combined effort suggested cooperation rather than competition, an intimacy that went beyond mere strategy.
Feng Hao's lips curved slightly—not a smile, but an acknowledgment. Even within mediocrity, the system had detected the spark of story, of agency, of potential that might evolve.
He leaned slightly forward atop his chariot, focusing intently. Every nuance of the inheritance, every fluctuation in the participants' aura, every movement of Lin Feng and the Supreme Lord-level female, was recorded, analyzed, and compared against countless patterns in his memory.
The Ancient Elders exchanged glances again. Even they were forced to acknowledge the subtle shift in Feng Hao's attention.
"Junior…" one said carefully, "you… notice them?"
"Not them," Feng Hao replied softly, voice calm, "their potential."
Above the chasm, the Nine Divine Golden Dragons coiled silently, casting an ever-watchful shadow. This inheritance might be trivial to Him.—but the patterns within, and the lives intertwined with it, were worth observing.
And so Feng Hao began his study, detached yet precise, analyzing the inheritance, the players, and the unseen currents guiding both. Lin Feng, the boy protagonist, and his companion had no idea they were now under the scrutiny of someone who could unmake worlds with a gesture.
The scene shifted sharply to the ground level of the inheritance. The First Level unfolded as a sprawling maze, its walls of black-and-gold stone twisting impossibly, folding in on themselves as though the very space had been carved by a hand that knew no limits. Light refracted off the polished surfaces, highlighting treasures that glittered temptingly—and shadows that promised death in equal measure.
Lin Feng's steps were measured, but cautious. His eyes flicked constantly across the walls, scanning for signs of hidden pressure plates, sudden pitfalls, or arcane glyphs waiting to trigger. Beside him, the Supreme Lord-level female moved with a grace that belied her strength. Every motion of hers radiated awareness, a silent sentinel guarding against unseen threats.
The maze was alive in its own right. Some traps were mechanical—sharp blades swinging from above or spikes springing from the floor—but others were magical, formations that pulsed faintly with suppressed energy. Each required a different skill to bypass: keen insight, precise timing, or sheer Dao comprehension.
A faint chime echoed somewhere ahead. Lin Feng froze, hand tightening on the hilt of his sword.
"Trap," he murmured, low enough that only his companion heard.
She nodded subtly, tilting her head to study the space above the ceiling. A faint shimmer marked a formation; her fingers traced an invisible pattern in the air. A pulse, almost imperceptible, and the formation's threat evaporated before it could activate.
"Nice," Lin Feng said quietly, a hint of admiration in his tone. They had trained together before, but moments like this made the synergy between them tangible.
A fork in the maze appeared—a corridor to the left littered with glittering gemstones, another to the right lined with faintly glowing glyphs. Both promised reward, but the danger was proportional. Lin Feng's mind calculated rapidly: treasure was tempting, but risk could easily outweigh reward at their cultivation level.
He gestured right, toward the glyphs.
"Formation-based traps," he explained, "less flashy, more dangerous. But it's a better test. And probably… safer than the gemstones, which likely trigger hidden spikes or ambushes."
His companion smiled faintly, a mixture of amusement and trust. She moved into position beside him, their movements synchronized as they advanced deeper into the First Level.
As they progressed, the maze shifted subtly. Walls folded. New pathways opened while others vanished. Every step was a test of perception, patience, and collaboration. They had to read the environment, anticipate the hidden dangers, and sometimes—when logic failed—rely purely on instinct.
A sudden click sounded. A set of needles shot from the wall, but Lin Feng rolled forward instinctively, pulling his companion with him. She countered by releasing a faint pulse of Dao energy that neutralized the remaining threat. Together, they continued, weaving through the maze like dancers in a deadly ritual.
Above them, the First Level's rewards glimmered in the shadows. Treasures of rare Dao artifacts, valuable spirit crystals, and mysterious relics lined the pathways. Yet each was guarded—not only by traps but by the subtle expectation that only those clever enough to discern patterns would claim them.
Lin Feng's eyes met his companion's briefly. A silent acknowledgment passed between them. They were not just surviving—they were learning, adapting, and slowly mapping the heartbeat of the maze itself.
Every corner of the First Level was a challenge, every turn a question. And only by moving as one could they hope to reach the deeper secrets waiting beyond.
The narrow corridors of the First Level twisted and folded around Lin Feng and the female Supreme Lord-level companion. Each step carried the echo of careful calculation, but their conversation wandered beyond the immediate dangers.
"Who do you think that figure is… the one above?" the female asked quietly, glancing toward the faint shimmer of the Nine Divine Golden Dragons that hovered far above the gap. Her eyes narrowed, curiosity and caution mingled.
Lin Feng shrugged subtly, voice low. "I don't know. Someone powerful. Their aura… it's like nothing I've ever sensed before. It feels… untouchable."
As they moved, something small and metallic glinted at Lin Feng's hand. Unbeknownst to the girl, a rusty bronze ring rested on his index finger. The metal was dull, pitted, but its presence was not ornamental—it was a seal. Deep inside, it restrained a soul: a Holy Lord-level powerhouse, fallen in a battle long ago.
The soul within the ring stirred faintly as they passed a trap, whispering in a tone that only Lin Feng could hear.
"Lin Feng," the voice said, heavy and grave, "you must be careful. That one… the figure above, and the three elders accompanying him—they are not what they seem. Their cultivation… their understanding… it surpasses anything in this inheritance."
Lin Feng's brow furrowed. "The ones I saw above, with the Nine Divine Golden Dragons… the ones who froze everyone below?"
"Yes," Lao Yao said, his tone grave. "The figure commanding the dragons—Peak Eternal Ancestral Lord. His presence alone eclipses any Lord Taoist-level threat. The three elders accompanying him—ten major realms above even him—they are Supreme Dao Lords. Their senses alone could scan this entire First Level as if it were a child's toy."
Lin Feng froze, the scale of what Lao Yao was telling him pressing down like the weight of mountains. He had never imagined power so absolute—except what he knew of Lao Yao himself. Even then, the three elders' cultivation surpassed comprehension.
"Supreme Dao Lords?" Lin Feng whispered. "I… I've never seen anyone… anyone like that."
"Yes," Lao Yao murmured. "Their perception, their understanding, their control over reality—it dwarfs anything you have encountered. And yet… they watch silently. You move, you choose, you grow… they observe."
The Supreme Lord-level maiden at his side glanced at him, curiosity mixing with caution. "They… they are watching us?"
"They are aware of every pulse of energy we emit," Lin Feng replied, brushing his fingers lightly over the bronze ring. "Lao Yao says… Peak Eternal Ancestral Lord, plus three Supreme Dao Lords above him. Ten major realms above. Their power… it's unimaginable."
The maze ahead twisted again, deadly traps shifting in impossible geometries, but Lin Feng's mind was elsewhere—on the scale of the forces above, on the Silent Observation, on the knowledge that every decision here was under scrutiny of beings beyond mortal reckoning.
Lao Yao's voice softened, almost intimate. "Lin Feng, I Need to condense a new body.
If we can Get The reward at the End We Can Get the One of Crucial materials for A soul condensing pill.
You must focus on growth, on mastery, on breaking limits. Not for this inheritance alone, but for survival, for understanding, for opportunity. One day, you will stand in the presence of beings like them. You must be ready."
Lin Feng's jaw tightened. Determination sparked in his eyes. "I understand, Master. I'll grow strong. Strong enough to stand in that presence one day."
Ahead, the First Level of the inheritance stretched on, corridors twisting, traps glimmering with lethal intent. The bronze ring warmed slightly against Lin Feng's finger—a heartbeat of Lao Yao's power flowing with silent approval.
And far above, unseen yet omnipresent, the Peak Eternal Ancestral Lord and the three Supreme Dao Lords continued their observation, subtle shifts of perception mapping every detail of this First Level, recording, measuring… waiting.