Lan, the High Priest of the Ice Temple, hurriedly arrived at the Island of Mist by boat with his students.
The lighthouse’s beam pierced through the mist and illusions.
Before the boat had fully docked, he leaped off and rushed towards the Temple of Truth.
A group of people stood waiting to receive him, but he passed by without acknowledgnt, walking briskly.
These people imdiately surrounded Lan, following behind him.
“Lord Lan.”
“Lord Lan.”
Whether in the Nine Great Temples of Yinsai, the distant Temple of Truth across the sea, or in the eyes of all Yinsai people,
The Food Priest Lan deserved the title of “Lord.”
It was evident that Lan was extrely anxious at this mont. He entered the ancient castle, nodding to Elena, the Abyss Knight standing at the entrance.
Pushing open the door, he saw his teacher Sandean lying on the bed, barely clinging to life.
The fire demon’s fla damage was secondary; the internal injuries from the final strike were far more incurable than the burns. Sandean had been coughing up blood every day for the past few days.
Lan paused at the doorway, then carefully closed the great door, leaving everyone outside.
He looked at his once-powerful teacher, the Sage of Truth who had stood at the pinnacle of power in the Yinsai world, now so fragile—it was hard to accept.
But what Lan found even harder to believe was:
The teacher’s eyes, once always wise and passionate, now looked dim and lifeless.
Haru had followed Sandean since childhood and was, in a sense, his most important student—at least emotionally closer than Lan.
Sandean heard the movent and turned his head to look.
“Mmm~”
“Lan,” Sandean said weakly, a faint smile crossing his lips, “you’ve co.”
Lan hurried forward, sitting by the bedside.
“Teacher!” Lan exclaid, his voice thick with concern. “What has befallen you?”
Sandean looked at him with a smile, though it was incredibly bitter.
“I always thought I could pass on the will and ideals of the saint to everyone.”
“Unexpectedly…”
“Those grand principles I preach every day couldn’t even be inherited by my closest student.”
Haru’s betrayal had dealt an enormous blow to Sandean.
It could even be said to be a massive shock to his ideals and beliefs, making him directly question whether the future he had hoped for could truly arrive.
He had always believed that under the guidance of the saint’s will and ideals, the world would proceed in the best direction.
As long as everyone was nurtured by the saint’s will from a young age, all could beco pioneers of a beautiful future.
However, reality was not so.
Lan only knew that Haru had injured their teacher and defected from the Temple of Truth, but he didn’t know what exactly had transpired.
“Teacher,” Lan pressed gently, “what transpired here?”
Sandean lay on the bed, looking at the ceiling: “We obtained the Secret Art of Immortality.”
Lan’s tone changed abruptly: “What?”
Sandean nodded, gently closing his eyes.
“That’s right!”
“We fused the Secret Art of Immortality with the Seal divine technique, creating a new life form. Haru believed that was the power of the fourth level.”
“I created a stone monster and confined it underground.”
“And Haru turned himself into a fire demon, which was the monster everyone saw in the end.”
Lan pressed further: “Teacher! What exactly were you trying to achieve?”
Sandean turned his head slightly, looking at Lan: “I wanted to see what the fourth-level power was truly like.”
“Unfortunately, from the very beginning, this path was wrong.”
Sandean seed regretful, muttering repeatedly.
“It shouldn’t have been like this, it shouldn’t have been like this.”
“That wasn’t the fourth-level power. Haru misunderstood.”
Although he had failed, he had still found the reason for his failure and saw a glimr of hope amid the failure.
Sandean took out a forearm-length bone scroll from under his pillow and handed it to Lan.
Lan carefully accepted it, listening as his teacher slowly spoke.
“From the beginning, we took the wrong path. The thod of the Secret Art of Immortality is not feasible.”
“What needs to be changed is the essence of the mythical blood.”
Lan looked at the bone scroll in his hand. “Teacher,” Lan asked earnestly, “what would you have
do?”
Sandean nodded slightly: “Try the thod described there. With your power and wisdom, you should be able to do it.” —
In the Sage of Truth’s workshop, Lan and several students were conducting experints according to the thod written on Sandean’s bone scroll.
Unlike before, their experintal subject this ti was not a whole entity, but a unit of mythical blood so tiny it was almost unimaginable.
Sandean’s Seal Doll was placed on the table, but everyone’s attention was focused on a bottle nearby.
It lay in the bottle, just a tiny point of fluorescence.
Lan had even brought a magnifying glass newly made by the Glass Temple to observe the interior of the mythical blood, but unfortunately, he saw nothing but light.
The tiny, weak fluorescence—even for a third-level Seal Priest like him—suddenly made him feel dizzy when he looked closely.
He held the illustrations from the scroll, his eyes filled with shock.
Not only because of the secret techniques involving the mysteries of mythical blood and abilities but also because of his teacher’s bizarre ideas.
“Not pursuing the whole, but the transformation of individual units.”
“Grains of sand beco stone, drops of water beco rivers.”
“Stuffing an entire Seal Spirit into this single unit of mythical blood?”
“How is this possible?”
Although Lan’s intuition told him this was impossible—how could such a tiny unit of mythical blood contain such powerful force—
He still believed in his teacher’s judgnt and had his students assist him in beginning the experint.
He extracted the Seal Spirit from the Seal Doll and started trying to fuse it into the mythical blood.
He tried the ntal resonance thod, tried the activation secret technique, constantly modifying the plan.
Day after day, repeated failures left everyone exhausted.
Fortunately, even if they failed, they only lost one unit of mythical blood. They could conduct this experint many tis.
It seed that there was no great urgency.
However, Lan still continued the experints tirelessly, not daring to stop for a mont.
Because he sensed that Sandean’s days were numbered, and his teacher was holding on just to see his success.
After multiple thods and plans failed, Lan finally thought of Haru’s ntal force pressure secret technique.
He found Haru’s experintal records and began another attempt.
He carved patterns all over the crystal bottle, and with more than a dozen priests, ford a powerful ntal hurricane along the patterns with their spirit power.
The mythical blood and Seal Spirit were in the hurricane, constantly being compressed inward.
The vast Seal Spirit beca smaller and smaller, almost invisible to the naked eye, while the mythical blood showed no change.
Finally, the Seal Spirit was squeezed into that single unit of mythical blood.
“Hiss!”
The mythical blood suddenly emitted a lightning-like radiance, a weak strand of lightning directly illuminating the entire workshop, a hundred tis more intense than the midday sun.
“Boom!”
The crystal bottle shattered, leaving the entire laboratory in disarray.
Everyone dodged and used divine techniques to block the exploding fragnts. When the light subsided, they looked over.
They saw a crystal floating in mid-air.
A semi-transparent crystal, or rather a grain of sand or stone, emitting a silver light.
Lan walked towards it step by step, and this crystal, almost invisible to the naked eye without its glow, fell into his palm.
“Could this be it?” Lan whispered, awe in his voice.
He sensed that this tiny crystal had undergone an unimaginable transformation.
It could easily contain a person’s consciousness, their mories, their power.
Even if their body died, their will decayed, this drop of blood would pass on their power and mories.
He turned back, looking at everyone, his voice filled with wonder and excitent: “We’ve done it. We’ve actually succeeded!”
Cheers erupted in the workshop, everyone unable to suppress their wild joy.
Lan had no ti to celebrate or cheer; he brought the crystal to Sandean’s side.
“Teacher!” Lan exclaid, his eyes shining. “I’ve found the answer. I’ve found it!”
Lan carefully held up the crystal, raising it before Sandean’s eyes.
Sandean slowly extended his hand, and Lan imdiately placed it between his teacher’s fingers.
Sandean pinched this tiny, glowing “sand grain” between his thumb and forefinger, finally showing a happy smile: “So this is what transford mythical blood looks like.”
At the end of his life, Sandean had still accomplished what he wanted to do.
Although it was just the beginning, creating a tiny grain of sand, or stone.
But that door had been pushed open.
Lan was overjoyed; he had fulfilled his teacher’s expectations.
“Teacher,” Lan said reverently, “this is your creation. Would you bestow upon it a na?”
At this mont, Sandean suddenly rembered the figure he had seen in the Temple of Truth long ago.
He couldn’t recall the person’s appearance no matter how hard he tried, but he rembered what they had said.
“Sandean!”
“All power cos from bloodlines.”
It was that very sentence that had given Sandean direction.
Unfortunately, the Secret Art of Immortality brought by Haru had led him astray.
Yet, ironically, it was precisely because of this detour that they had succeeded so smoothly this ti.
Sandean’s gaze focused on the glowing crystal, his pupils slightly dilated.
“The wisdom given by the divine, the bloodline bestowed by the divine, the imprint gifted by the divine.”
“Let’s call it the God’s Grace Stone.”
As Sandean spoke, another mouthful of fresh blood spilled from his lips.
His organs had reached their worst state, and even the physicians standing nearby had no way to help.
“Teacher!”
Sandean grasped Lan’s hand, feeling he had reached his final mont.
Sandean’s voice was weak but urgent. “Find Haru. Tell him… we were wrong.”
Several instructors kneeling nearby also approached, anxiously asking Sandean.
“Sage,” the instructors asked anxiously, “what of the Temple of Truth? What becos of its future?”
Sandean’s gaze still fell on Lan and Elena standing at the door, but he finally shook his head.
“I originally wanted to entrust it to Haru. I know you love your holand, and the Ice Temple is also a good starting point.”
“There, you can also create your own career.”
“I don’t want to interfere with your choices. Between you and Elena, whoever is willing to beco the second-generation sage of the Temple of Truth, let them do so.”
“If neither of you is willing, then find soone else to do it.”
“Even if in the end…”
“The Temple of Truth vanishes like a midnight teor, it doesn’t matter.”
Sandean’s body gradually relaxed, his eyes slowly closing.
“Let it be that my empty imaginings, those day-after-day dreams, were punctured by ti!”
The Sage of Truth, who had brought the power of rituals and miracles to the mortal world and pioneered the era of third-level priests,
Died on his bed.
With Sandean’s passing, the God’s Grace Stone in his hand also disappeared.
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