The morning sun, usually a welcome sight, felt like a searing spotlight on Alex's eyelids. He groaned, a dull throb behind his temples, the potent spirit wine from Old Man Yuan still swirling in his head.
He pushed himself out of the shed, the crisp lake air doing little to dispel the lingering fog. His limbs felt stiff, a residual sluggishness from the night's indulgence. He glanced towards where Old Man Yuan had been. The small fire pit was nothing but cold ashes, the ground undisturbed. Old Man Yuan, and even the faint impression of his camp, were simply gone. Just like that. Alex shrugged, a faint smile touching his lips. Guess some cultivators are just... nomadic, or incredibly good at packing up after a party.
"Morning, Kael," Alex mumbled, his voice still thick with sleep, rubbing his temples.
"The sun is well past its zenith, Alex," Kael's ancient voice resonated in his mind, a hint of its usual dry amusement. "And your deadline for the Unseen Summit approaches. Two months, you said? Time, even for one with your unique physiology, is not infinite. Perhaps less time spent in drunken revelry would be beneficial."
Alex winced. Right. Deadline. No time for hangovers or lectures from a sword spirit. He shook his head, forcing the last vestiges of wine-induced stupor away. He had a clear goal: a proper cultivation technique and a flame-based inheritance. He already possessed the formidable Primordial Flame Emperor Physique, so the inheritance was the immediate priority.
He walked onto the shed's porch, the Void Fishing Rod cool and familiar in his hand. He pictured the Cosmic Being's Vault, that immense repository of forgotten power, focusing his intent with renewed, almost desperate determination. Alright, Kael. Let's get this done. Flame inheritance, coming right up. No more detours.
He cast the invisible line into the fabric of reality. This time, the tug was immense, a heavy, ancient weight pulling against the rod, threatening to wrench it from his grasp. He gritted his teeth, bracing himself, every muscle in his body tensing as he reeled with all his might. With a soft, resonant thud, a miniature pagoda, no larger than his palm, materialized on the wooden deck. It was crafted from dark, gleaming obsidian, etched with swirling crimson patterns that seemed to pulse with an inner, malevolent heat. Wisps of faint, blood-red smoke curled from its tiny eaves, carrying a faint scent of brimstone.
His Divine Eye of Essence flared, immediately overlaying reality with a torrent of luminous text and intricate diagrams: [Primordial Hellflame Pagoda]
Description: This miniature pagoda embodies the complete inheritance of the Infernal Sovereign, a legendary being who mastered the destructive and refining aspects of fire across countless realms. It is not merely a compendium of techniques but a self-contained spatial treasure, containing the complete training ground once used by the Infernal Sovereign to cultivate his direct descendants.
Contents:
1. Hall of Flames: A sacred chamber for experiencing enlightenment on the profound laws of fire, accelerating comprehension and mastery.
2. The Thirteen Pagoda Levels: A series of thirteen challenging trials. Passing each level grants the wielder a powerful flame-based technique, spell, or innate ability of the Infernal Sovereign, tailored to increasing levels of mastery.
Notes: Requires a strong flame affinity and a resolute will to fully unlock its potential. Beware, for the path of the Infernal Sovereign is one of absolute destruction.
Alex stared at the description, his eyes widening. "Holy hell. This is... way more than I expected." A spatial treasure? A personal training ground? This was a serious upgrade from just a book of techniques. This was a whole damn curriculum.
A mischievous grin spread across his face. He looked at his cozy shed, then at the miniature pagoda. If this thing is a spatial treasure, can I... integrate it into my existing domain? Make it part of my backyard?
He focused his Divine Eye on the Fisherman's Satchel, then on the pagoda. He envisioned the pagoda settling next to his shed within the satchel's pocket dimension, becoming a new, permanent fixture in his personal space. He felt a subtle shift, a faint hum from the satchel, a sense of expansion within its unseen confines.
With a mental command, the miniature pagoda shimmered and vanished from the deck. He mentally "looked" into his satchel's domain. There, beside his cozy shed, stood the obsidian pagoda, now appearing at a more appropriate, imposing scale within the pocket dimension, its crimson patterns still pulsing faintly. His "backyard" had just gotten a whole lot bigger, and a lot more dangerous.
Alex let out a low whistle. "Alright, Kael. This changes things." His eyes, now clear and sharp, burned with renewed determination. He had the ultimate flame inheritance. Now, only one thing remained.
It's time to fish for a proper cultivation technique.