Three days passed quickly within Fugar City.
On the morning of the fourth day, Eryndor stood alone atop the highest peak of Cloud Fare Sect. The clouds stretched endlessly beneath him while ancient spiritual energy filled the air. Ahead stood a simple stone pavilion where the legendary Aluki waited.
The strongest cultivator in the world.
The man who had not accepted a disciple in four hundred years.
The moment Eryndor saw him, he was surprised.
Aluki looked ordinary.
No overwhelming aura.
No divine pressure.
Only an old man sitting quietly beside a stone table.
Yet the entire mountain seemed to revolve around him.
Aluki opened his eyes.
For a brief moment, Eryndor felt as though every secret within his soul had been seen.
Including the Throne of the Starved God.
Including the hunger.
Including the darkness.
A faint smile appeared on the old man's face.
"You truly are an interesting child."
Eryndor remained silent.
Aluki slowly stood.
"My body is seven hundred years old."
The words sounded simple.
Yet Eryndor understood their meaning.
Seven centuries.
Seven hundred years of cultivation.
Seven hundred years of battles.
Seven hundred years of surviving heaven itself.
Aluki looked toward the distant sky.
"I have reached my limit."
For the first time, Eryndor noticed exhaustion hidden deep within the old man's eyes.
Not physical exhaustion.
The exhaustion of a man who had lived too long.
"I cannot take another step forward."
Silence filled the mountain.
Then Aluki turned toward him.
"But you can."
The old man raised two fingers.
"I offer you two paths."
The atmosphere instantly became serious.
"The first path is simple."
Aluki pointed toward the endless mountains beyond Cloud Fare Sect.
"I enter sixty years of closed-door cultivation. You cultivate beside me as my disciple."
"You inherit my techniques."
"You inherit my knowledge."
"When I die naturally at the end of those sixty years, my complete legacy becomes yours."
Eryndor listened carefully.
It was a safe path.
A righteous path.
A disciple inheriting his master's will.
But Aluki had not finished speaking.
"The second path..."
For the first time, uncertainty appeared in the old man's eyes.
"The second path is forbidden."
The wind suddenly grew colder.
"You kill me."
Eryndor froze.
Even the mountains seemed to become silent.
Aluki continued calmly.
"You kill this body today."
"My soul enters your body."
"You use the power of the Starved Throne to preserve my consciousness."
For the first time, Eryndor's expression changed.
Aluki knew.
He knew about the Throne.
The old cultivator smiled slightly.
"There is very little in this world I do not know."
He stepped closer.
"For three hundred years, I guide you."
"My memories become yours."
"My experience becomes yours."
"My understanding becomes yours."
"I will teach you every cultivation technique, every secret realm, every heavenly law I have discovered during seven hundred years."
Aluki's voice became heavier.
"In return, when you reach the peak of cultivation..."
"You create a new body for me."
"You return my freedom."
Silence followed.
Neither man spoke.
The proposal sounded insane.
One path offered safety.
The other offered unimaginable power.
Yet also unimaginable risk.
If Aluki entered his body, there would suddenly be two ancient beings sharing one soul.
The Starved Throne.
And the strongest cultivator in the world.
Even Eryndor could not predict what might happen.
Aluki slowly sat back down.
For the first time since their meeting, the old man looked genuinely curious.
"Most people would choose immediately."
"But you are not most people."
His eyes locked onto Eryndor's.
"The heavens fear what sleeps inside you."
"The Starved Throne is awakening."
"If you walk the first path..."
"You may become strong."
"If you walk the second..."
"You may become unstoppable."
The clouds moved slowly around the mountain peak.
Far below, the cultivation world continued unaware of the decision about to be made.
Aluki poured two cups of tea.
One for himself.
One for Eryndor.
Then he spoke his final words.
"Tell me, child."
"Do you wish to inherit my legacy..."
"...or my existence?"
The old man's eyes remained calm.
Patient.
Waiting.
For the answer that could change the fate of heaven itself.