After seeing Raqin's group lounging lazily, especially after discovering they had been waiting there for three whole days, a bitter taste filled the mouths of the newly arrived survivors.
The feeling was strongest among the two remaining survivors of the Mollock Syndicate. They were furious.
After all, when they had first encountered Raqin before the two old men and the little girl joined him, he had been far weaker than them. Even the old men had only been slightly weaker than they were. As for the little girl, she had possessed a damaged foundation and was barely worth mentioning.
Yet now, they had somehow arrived ahead of everyone else and were resting comfortably while the others had nearly died countless times.
One of the Mollock Syndicate subordinates suddenly pointed at Raqin and shouted at the top of his lungs.
"Hey, brat! Get over here and tell us your secret! Otherwise, you can be damn sure this place will become your graveyard for the rest of time!"
Raqin and the two old men stopped their discussion and slowly turned toward the man.
The old men exchanged glances.
Then they smiled.
"I wonder whose dog is barking so loudly," Old Man Jekyll said lazily. "I can barely hear myself think."
Old Man Hyde nodded seriously.
"It must be a very sad and hungry dog. It probably forgot to drink its mother's milk before leaving home."
Silence descended upon the throne room.
Everyone, including Raqin, didn't know whether to laugh or cry.
The old men's response had effectively categorized anyone pointing and shouting at them as a dog.
The awkward silence lasted only a few seconds before Raqin burst into laughter.
"Hahahaha!"
He pointed at the furious subordinate.
"Hey dog, is it true you didn't drink your mother's milk before leaving home to play?"
The man's face instantly turned crimson.
His anger exploded.
Without another word, he launched himself toward Raqin.
Yet Raqin didn't move.
He merely sneered.
Before the man could even come within a meter of him, his expression changed dramatically.
His surroundings suddenly became unbearably heavy.
At the same time, the temperature around him soared.
The two old men had already acted before anyone could even register their movements.
The attacker felt as though he had fallen into a bottomless swamp. Every movement became impossibly difficult.
Then came the heat.
The terrifying temperature engulfed him instantly.
His screams lasted less than a second before his body was reduced to ashes.
Not even bones remained.
Old Man Hyde snorted.
"What a piece of trash."
Old Man Jekyll shook his head.
"He couldn't even withstand our aura and yet he wanted to kill someone."
The throne room fell silent once more.
This time, however, the silence was filled with fear.
The surviving participants stared at the ashes with widened eyes.
Shock.
Terror.
Disbelief.
The leader of the Mollock Syndicate, now the only remaining survivor of his group, couldn't suppress the question that was weighing heavily on everyone's mind.
"How did you all unseal your cultivation?"
The moment he asked, every expert present turned toward Raqin's group.
Raqin suddenly revealed an evil smile.
"By submitting your freedom to me."
The throne room erupted.
"Preposterous!"
The Mollock leader's face darkened.
"Who do you think you are? You're nothing more than an ant I can squash whenever I please."
His killing intent intensified.
"So you'd better tell me the truth. Once this trial is over, I'll enslave you and torture you until you beg for death."
His eyes became bloodshot.
"And even that mercy won't be granted."
For a moment, silence returned.
Then Raqin and the old men looked at each other.
They burst into even louder laughter.
"Hahahahaha!"
Their laughter echoed throughout the cathedral.
The commotion was so loud that it even woke the unconscious Meenah.
"You should try surviving first," Raqin replied casually. "After that, maybe your threats might actually mean something."
Unfortunately, his words rubbed several experts the wrong way.
One scarred veteran stepped forward.
"What do you take us for, kid?"
His voice was icy cold.
"I dare you to say that to my face."
Others immediately joined in.
Many voiced their dissatisfaction.
Many threatened him.
Some even released traces of their killing intent.
Yet none of it seemed to affect Raqin's group.
It was like throwing feathers at a mountain.
Raqin simply waved his hand dismissively.
"You should all worry about your own survival."
His gaze swept across everyone.
"And stop worrying about how we unsealed our cultivation."
A dangerous smile appeared on his face.
"You can even try attacking us if you'd like."
The smile widened.
"But your chances of surviving this trial will become even lower than they already are."
The room became quiet again.
"You get my point?"
No one replied.
Raqin didn't care.
He had no interest in wasting time with these people.
His only goal was to survive the trials and finally breathe freely in a world that seemed to have forgotten his existence.
Turning around, he noticed Meenah staring at everyone with confusion and surprise.
Then a familiar notification appeared before his eyes.
/Assimilation Complete in Meenah/
/Beginning Initialization/
Raqin smiled.
"Meenah, the little toy I gave you earlier has finally been assimilated."
The little girl's eyes brightened.
"Are you ready for the last part?"
"Yes!"
She nodded excitedly.
Ever since witnessing Raqin's martial spirit and later the martial spirits of the two old men, she had been fantasizing about her own awakening.
She couldn't wait to discover what kind of martial spirit she would obtain.
Suddenly—
Every eye embedded throughout the cathedral opened simultaneously.
A faint crimson glow filled them.
Madness.
Bloodlust.
Insanity.
The atmosphere instantly changed.
The entire cathedral began shaking violently.
The countless eyes started moving.
Twisting.
Merging.
Fusing together.
Everyone watched in horror as the eyes combined into a massive black humanoid figure.
Its body was pitch black.
Its face contained only a single enormous eye.
Its fingers ended in blade-like claws that looked capable of slicing apart reality itself.
The creature let out a deafening roar.
The sound assaulted everyone's minds.
Then it attacked.
Chaos erupted instantly.
Participants screamed as they fled in every direction.
Even Raqin felt his heart sink.
According to the rules, reaching the central throne while preserving one's sanity should have guaranteed safety.
So why was this happening?
Before anyone could find an answer, another shocking event occurred.
The leader of the Mollock Syndicate suddenly began slaughtering nearby participants.
His attacks were ruthless.
Precise.
Efficient.
He carved a bloody path straight toward Raqin's group.
Seeing this, Raqin and the old men immediately prepared for battle.
"Old Man Jekyll, protect Meenah."
Raqin's eyes narrowed.
"Old Man Hyde and I will handle that bastard."
Unexpectedly, the Mollock leader stopped.
He halted several meters away from them.
Raqin frowned.
What exactly was this man planning?
Old Man Jekyll suddenly chuckled.
"Look closely, kid."
His eyes narrowed.
"It seems that fool finally understands something."
Raqin followed his gaze.
The monstrous entity had stopped attacking.
It no longer pursued participants.
Instead, it simply stood there roaring.
Its maddening cries continued affecting everyone present.
Old Man Jekyll stroked his beard thoughtfully.
"It appears that thing was released to reduce the number of participants."
Understanding dawned in Raqin's eyes.
"Meaning there are limited spots available."
Before anyone could discuss further, Veyrath's projection appeared once again.
This time, however, everyone could clearly see his face.
He looked like an old man burdened by countless years.
His face was covered in wrinkles.
Patchy gray hair hung loosely from his scalp.
His eyes carried the weight of endless experience.
Yet his smile...
His smile was terrifying.
It was so unnaturally eerie that chills ran down everyone's spine.
"Congratulations."
His voice echoed throughout the cathedral.
"You have passed the Second Trial."
Everyone released a breath of relief.
"Your cultivation will now be unsealed."
The atmosphere immediately exploded with excitement.
Many participants could hardly believe it.
They could finally access their true strength again.
"You have twenty-four hours to recover."
Veyrath's smile widened.
"Prepare yourselves."
His eyes seemed to sweep across the room.
"The Third Trial will begin afterward."
The projection vanished.
Everyone sighed helplessly.
At least they had gained some breathing room.
However, one participant suddenly raised a question.
A simple question.
Yet it caused everyone to freeze.
As they carefully replayed everything that had happened since entering the inheritance grounds, they all arrived at the same terrifying conclusion.
The trials were becoming increasingly difficult.
Much more difficult.
Their chances of survival had drastically decreased.
Even Raqin began suspecting something.
Before disappearing, Veyrath's projection had seemed to look directly toward his group.
Could they be receiving special attention?
Or perhaps...
Special targeting?
Far away from the Black Mountain Range...
Deep beneath the earth, inside a heavily fortified underground bunker...
A man with shoulder-length black hair and emerald-green eyes sat behind a desk.
His fingers tapped rhythmically against the surface.
Tap.
Tap.
Tap.
A sudden buzz interrupted him.
He retrieved a communication device from his storage artifact and activated it.
A projection immediately appeared.
It was Levi.
The man with golden hair, golden eyes, and the owner of the Ox Mask.
Levi grinned.
"Lewis. I see you're still as gloomy as ever."
Lewis frowned.
"What do you want, Levi?"
"Nothing, Snake Face."
Levi shrugged.
"I simply came to inform you that the higher-ups have given the order."
His smile faded.
"We are to leave the Mortal Continent immediately."
Lewis narrowed his eyes.
"What about the inheritance realm in the Black Mountain Range?"
"And the treasures?"
Levi shrugged again.
"They didn't say anything about that."
He stood up.
"I've delivered the message."
His golden eyes gleamed.
"Meet us in three days."
His voice became cold.
"Otherwise, you can forget about ever leaving this continent."
The projection vanished.
Lewis sneered.
"I may be one of the Thirteen Zodiacs..."
His eyes flashed dangerously.
"But my fortune and glory will not be decided by mere servants."
He stood from his chair.
"If they wish to leave, let them."
A cold smile appeared on his face.
"I have no intention of climbing from the bottom again merely to prove my loyalty."
He walked toward a concealed corner of the room.
With a wave of his hand, seals covering the wall disappeared.
A hidden safe emerged.
Lewis opened it carefully.
Inside lay an ancient parchment.
The moment he saw it, excitement flashed through his eyes.
He had discovered the parchment during his youth while exploring a forgotten ruin.
Within it was a terrifying inheritance.
One he had never dared cultivate.
Not because he lacked talent.
Not because he lacked opportunity.
But because he knew exactly what practicing it would mean.
It would make him the enemy of every living being.
Slowly, he removed the parchment.
His eyes burned with ambition.
"Go get my son."
The room appeared empty.
Yet moments later, a masked individual emerged from the shadows.
A teenage boy in a wheelchair was pushed into the room.
The masked figure bowed.
"You may leave."
The figure vanished like smoke.
The boy looked toward Lewis.
"Father?"
His expression was confused.
"Why did you send for me?"
Lewis walked toward a nearby cabinet and poured two drinks.
One for himself.
One for his son.
The boy blinked.
"Dad... what's the occasion?"
Lewis handed him the glass.
Then he crouched beside the wheelchair.
A strange smile appeared on his face.
"Tell me..."
His green eyes locked onto his son's.
"Would you like to walk again?"