Chapter 147: Chapter 147
"If a cultivator belongs to the Tribulation Transcendence Realm, he has the potential to break into even higher levels of cultivation," Ethan recalled, remembering Lyralei’s warning.
The Heavenly Spirit Pill she had once given herself to him served as motivation—a talisman urging him to guard Seraphina, to become Seraphina’s protector in the Ancient Path Trail.
Like Lyralei, Ethan had accumulated a vast stockpile of heavenly elixirs through uncounted fishing missions. These rare treasures promised transformation and power for the worthy.
"Junior, this gift is too precious," Althea said, shaking her head firmly, studying the pill Ethan handed her.
Ignoring her hesitations, Ethan took Althea’s hand gently and placed the pill into her palm.
"I’ve been engrossed with my cultivation and haven’t had time to give you these. As a physical cultivator, I can’t benefit from them, so it’s wasteful for me to hold on," Ethan explained earnestly.
Althea was left speechless, finally nodding and tucking the elixir away.
"Senior sister, the formation upkeep has drained a lot of your spiritual energy. Rest early; I’ll accompany you back," Ethan added.
"Understood." Althea nodded and soared away elegantly, riding her flowing sword.
Ethan spread his Phoenix wings and ascended beside her.
At that moment, all eyes of the sect’s peak masters fixed intently on Ethan and Althea.
Their gazes burned with anticipation: did Ethan survive? Had he secured the ultimate inheritance?
"From today on, the inheritance place will be sealed," Ethan declared boldly as he addressed the masters below.
His words sent ripples through the crowd—clear proof he had obtained the ultimate legacy of his ancestor.
"I wonder, what is the Blue Void ancestor’s ultimate inheritance?" Elden, master of Azure Sky Peak, mused aloud.
"It’s simply a sword technique. Do you want it, Peak Master Elden?" Ethan asked pointedly.
"No, no—just curious," Elden chuckled nervously.
"Well, I will take my leave," Ethan said breezily and disappeared into the horizon with Althea.
"Everyone, return to your duties," Lyralei ordered, jaws tight as she watched Ethan’s retreating form.
The peak masters bowed and dispersed, their faces etched with resigning respect.
Seraphina lingered near Lyralei, her voice small and resentful: "Master, Ethan is unbearable!"
"Enough!" Lyralei’s scolding was sharp and swift.
"Master..." Seraphina lowered her head, biting her lip, stung deeply by the harsh rebuke.
She wondered if she had anything wrong.
"Why can’t I match Ethan?" she asked herself bitterly.
"Is it merely talent, or something more?"
"Focus on your cultivation. Starting today, enter seclusion. You must not leave your residence until you break through the Tribulation Transcendence Realm. Only then will you earn the right to go out again," Lyralei ordered sternly.
"I understand," Seraphina muttered.
Inside, her heart brimmed with fierce resolve.
"Ethan," she thought, "I will catch up, and when I do, I will surpass you again."
.....
Ethan stopped before the Sword Peak entrance.
"Senior sister, I must head back now."
"Alright, I’ll have tea with you sometime," Althea said warmly.
"With pleasure," Ethan smiled, and a rush of blue wings carried him swiftly toward Serene Mirror Lake.
Althea watched him vanish, then lightly extended her pale palm, unveiling a small brocade box.
Inside rested the Heavenly Spirit Pill Pavel had entrusted to her.
She inhaled deeply; its aroma was rich and potent.
Tucking it away, she gazed toward Ethan’s path, a gentle smile blooming in her heart.
.....
Ethan returned to his quarters, only to find the token he had seized from Ashen emitting a faint pulse.
"Oh," he mused. News had arrived from the Black Demon Sect.
He lifted the token, watching cryptic messages cast ghostly shadows upon the stone walls:
"You are not Ashen."
"Who are you?!"
Ethan knew instantly—he had been exposed.
It had been expected; after all, news of his victory over Bram, the sixth prince of the Vernal Dawn Dynasty, had spread swiftly.
The Black Demon Sect would surely see through Ashen’s falsehood.
Taking up the token, Ethan replied with a mischievous grin:
"I am your Ancestor, Azraeth V’khorath, send money quickly!"
Moments later, he corrected himself as the token shifted, "spiritual crystals, please."
His mind surged; the token activated, transmitting the message.
An hour passed, and the response came:
"If you dare blaspheme Ancestor Azraeth V’khorath, no matter who you are, the Black Demon Sect will dig you out three feet under and tear you limb from limb."
"Tell Ethan we target him. Best to stay sealed within his sect and never emerge. Otherwise—"
"Die!"
The stark finality echoed from the shadows—no subtleties, no veiled threats, just pure murderous intent.
Ethan smiled, fingers tightening on the token.
Suddenly, the token emitted thick black smoke and cracked with a resounding snap.
"What...?" He frowned. "Is the defense breaking?"
His palm clenched instinctively, crushing the token into dust.
He cast away distractions, focusing all mental power.
His inheritance trial had yielded blessings beyond measure.
Now, the time had come to seclude himself for cultivation.
Breaking through the Dharma Body realm would grant true strength and protection.
Only then could he explore the vast world beyond.
Yet another challenge awaited—he must deal with the mysterious mask melded within him.
That ghostly veil beneath his skin gnawed at his peace.
Ethan sank his consciousness within, entering a deep internal state to search the depths of his spirit.
After fifteen long minutes, his vision locked onto the grimacing mask floating in the sea of consciousness.
Below it, pulses of spiritual fire danced fiercely.
Yet the mask remained unbroken even beneath the blazing spiritual flame.
"What is this?" Ethan growled, demanding instant release.
His mental energy surged and beckoned.
Oddly, the mask responded—it disappeared deep into his spirit.
When it rematerialized, it attached itself directly to his face.
"Holy shit!" Ethan gasped, frantically scratching the phantom mask, but feeling nothing.
"Where did it go?"
Checking the clear waters nearby, he saw no blemish on his striking face.
His eyes sought Ebon Azure for answers.
But the ancestor—gone.
Suddenly, a familiar careless voice drifted in.
"Kid, hands off! What are you doing?"
"Who’s there?!" Ethan flared.
"And you forgot me so soon?"
Ethan’s eyes narrowed.
This mask must be the man in black who had sat playing chess with the founder in the depths of the land of inheritance.
A/N:
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