Chapter 369: Strange Third Trial

Chapter 369: Chapter 369: Strange Third Trial

Chapter 369: Strange Third Trial

The space around them distorted, the surrounding valley dissolving into thin air like a fading illusion.

When the space finally stopped trembling, Rhain found himself standing once again on the soft grass of the serene garden.

The warm breeze carried the fragrance of a thousand spiritual herbs, and the crystal-clear pond rippled gently beneath the azure sky.

Behind him, Lyra swayed on her feet. Karsten and the four surviving mercenaries collapsed to their knees, their hands trembling as they stared at the beautiful scenery, unable to believe they were still alive.

They had survived twenty-five days in a hell of Domain Master beasts.

Swoosh—!

The translucent figure of the old man slowly materialized in the sky.

The remnant soul hovered in the air, his ancient eyes sweeping over the group.

Unlike the detached demeanor he had displayed before, a look undisguised satisfaction was etched across his withered features.

"Excellent," the old man said, his voice echoing warmly in their minds. "Truly excellent."

"To hunt one thousand Domain Master. To stand against impossible odds and never lose hope," the old man praised, "Willpower is the greatest weapon a cultivator can possess. You have all proven yourselves worthy to bear my inheritance."

Karsten’s scarred face twisted. Tears welled up in his eyes as he lowered his head. The old man’s praise was heavy, and it was paid for with the blood of two brothers.

"Thank you, Senior," Karsten whispered hoarsely.

The old man’s expression softened. He raised his translucent hand.

WHOOSH—!!!

The same pure, white light descended from the sky, enveloping Rhain, Lyra, Karsten, and the remaining mercenaries.

In the blink of an eye, the accumulated fatigue, and the minor injuries from days of relentless slaughter were perfectly wiped away.

Karsten and the mercenaries moved their limbs, feeling the boundless energy returning to them.

Rhain flexed his fingers, his depleted essence reserves were instantly restored.

’His power is truly unfathomable,’ Rhain thought inwardly.

The old man lowered his hand, and his tone turned solemn once more.

"The final trial awaits. Are you ready?"

Rhain and Lyra exchanged a brief glance. Knowing perfectly well they had no other choice to exit this realm, they simply gave a firm nod.

But surprisingly, Karsten and his surviving men did not drop to their knees to weep and beg for their lives this time.

They gripped their weapons tightly.

They had lost two of their brothers to the previous trials. They refused to let their sacrifices be in vain by cowering like cowards now.

"We are ready, Senior," Karsten stated, his scarred face hardening with a grim resolve.

"Good," the old man smiled benevolently. "May you pass the trial."

He waved his hand.

WHOOSH—!!!

The beautiful garden shattered like fragile glass.

----------------

When the dizziness faded, the scent of the garden was gone.

The group found themselves standing in a barren canyon, with towering rock walls stretching high on either side.

There were no beasts roaring and no sky of meteors. Nothing attacked them.

"Senior?" Karsten called out nervously, looking around.

The old man’s voice immediately sounded in their minds.

"For this trial, there is no strict ultimatum or quota. You are entirely free to do whatever you deem right."

The voice faded.

The mercenaries exchanged baffled looks. "That’s it?" one muttered. "No rules at all?"

Instantly, Rhain frowned.

He closed his dark grey eyes, sinking his consciousness into his dantian.

The four supermassive pitch-black cores within his body were completely locked. An invisible shackle of world laws pressed down on his body, sealing his dark essence.

He casually tested his limbs, curling his fingers into a fist.

While he could not channel essence or execute his domains, the raw, tyrannical strength of his Abyssal Sovereign Physique remained completely untouched.

Because his physical body had been tempered beyond human limits, his sheer physical power alone still sat firmly at the peak of the Core Formation Realm. Furthermore, his vast, ocean-like Soul Power was entirely unhindered.

Beside him, Lyra also shrieked, "My essence is sealed."

She clenched her fist, and the orange-crimson flame that always followed her did not appear. "I cannot use my Heavenly Flame. I cannot even circulate my essence!"

"Same here!" Karsten cried out in alarm. The mercenaries frantically tried to channel their power, but their faces fell one after another.

"It is not just sealed," Rhain said calmly. "Our cultivation has been suppressed. We can rely only on our physical strength and our Soul Power."

Lyra had also realised this by now and she had an ugly expression.

Because she had relied heavily on her bloodline and her True Heavenly Flame, her physical body had never undergone the rigorous tempering.

Without her essence to fortify her muscles, her physical strength plummeted drastically, reducing her to the level of an early-stage Spirit Manifestation cultivator—an entire major realm weaker than her actual peak Core Formation cultivation.

Karsten and the mercenaries quickly realized the exact same horrifying truth.

Though their hardened lives in the Basin had given them some physical conditioning, they lacked any special physique.

Their physical strength hovered weakly around the early and mid-stage of the Spirit Manifestation Realm.

Karsten swallowed hard and tightened his grip on his broadsword. "This is not good. If we run into something dangerous..."

"Then we fight with what we have," Rhain said flatly. "First, we need to know where we are. We will go in that direction."

Just as they were trying to figure out which direction to take in the unfamiliar canyon...

"Please! Let us go!"

"Waaaaah!"

The desperate and heart-wrenching cries of women and the terrified wails of small children came from a bend in the dusty gorge ahead.

Rhain’s eyes snapped toward the sound.

The group rushed and stopped at the edge of a small ridge.

Below it lay a muddy path.

A dozen ragged women, clutching crying children tightly to their chests, were fleeing frantically.

But their escape was entirely cut off.

Surrounding them was a squad of savage warriors. They were clad in rough animal hides, their bodies bulging with unnatural, corded muscles, and they wielded blood-stained bone-clubs.

But what made Lyra’s pupils shrink was not their intimidating size.

"They are radiating essence!" Lyra whispered.

It was true. The savage warriors were openly displaying the distinct auras of the mid to late-stage Spirit Manifestation Realm!

And this meant that it was only their group who were restricted from using their essence.

"Hahaha! Where are you going to run now, little sheep?" the leading savage laughed cruelly, stepping forward and hoisting his heavy bone-club onto his shoulder. "Your pathetic tribe is already finished! Once we capture you brats, we will use you to force your stubborn tribe leader to drop to his knees and submit to our chieftain!"

The savages burst into laughter.

"Take them! Tie them up! If any of them cries too loud, break their legs!"

One of the savages reached toward a weeping boy and grabbed him by the hair, yanking him off the ground.

"MAMA!"

"No! Please! Not my son!" a woman shrieked, throwing herself forward, only to be kicked brutally into the mud.

Up on the ridge, Lyra’s knuckles had turned white.

She was a proud girl who had grown up in a noble family. Yet she had never been heartless.

The sight of the boy being dragged by his hair while his mother cried in the mud sent a fury through her chest.

"Lyra," Rhain said in a low voice, sensing her intention. "Wait. We do not know where we are, and we are suppressed—"

"I cannot just watch this!"

Rhain had not yet finished, but Lyra had already drawn her rapier.

Swoosh—!

She leaped off the ridge.

"Lady Lyra!" Karsten gasped.

She landed before the men, and her voice rang out sharp and clear.

"Let go of him, you filthy bastards!"

The savage warriors blinked, turning their gazes toward the breathtakingly beautiful, crimson-haired girl who had just dropped from the sky.

"Oh? And who is this little beauty?" the leader sneered, his eyes turning lecherous. "Looks like we found an extra prize for our chief! Get her!"

Two men rushed forward.

Lyra did not retreat. Without her essence, she drew only on the foundational swordplay she had practiced since childhood. Her wrist turned, and the rapier flashed in a clean, elegant thrust.

Clang!

She deflected a descending bone club and slid past the man’s flank. Her blade swept across his thigh, leaving a thin red line.

"Gah!"

The savage staggered, more from surprise than pain.

Lyra took advantage and spun, kicking another man’s knee and driving her rapier toward the arm of the savage holding the boy’s hair. He let go with a yelp, and the boy tumbled into the mud.

"Run!" Lyra shouted to the women. "Take the children and run!"

For a moment, it looked like her skill might actually carry her through.

But the savage leader’s eyes darkened.

"A rat who bites," he growled. "Fine. Then I will handle you myself."

BOOM—!!!

A faint dull-yellow light exploded from his body. His muscles bulged, and his bone club glowed with a heavy aura.

The other savages followed. Their auras erupted one after another, at the mid and late stages of the Spirit Manifestation Realm.

"Bone-Crushing Strike!" the leader roared.

His club came down like a falling mountain.

Lyra raised her rapier on instinct.

CLANG—!!!

A shock wave tore through her arms. The star-forged blade bent and shrieked, and Lyra was hurled backward, her boots dragging two long furrows through the mud.

"Ugh!"

Her wrist burned in agony. Her rapier trembled in her numb fingers.

Her strength, her speed, and her reaction were all lower than she was accustomed to, and she felt as if she had suddenly become a child fighting a grown man.

Before she could recover, two more savages swung their clubs from opposite sides.

"Hahaha! Get that meddling bitch!"

Lyra gritted her teeth. She tried to twist away, but the clubs were far too fast. She could only raise her rapier in a hopeless block.

Swoosh—!

A blur of black flashed across her vision.

BANG!

A hand caught the descending bone club in mid-air.

The savage froze, his eyes widening. The heavy club, which should have crushed a stone in one blow, did not move another inch.

Rhain stood in front of Lyra with his arm raised. His dark robes fluttered in the wind from the swing.

"You," Rhain said quietly, turning his head slightly toward Lyra, completely ignoring the man, "are far too reckless."