Mitchell had sat down cross legged and cultivated throughout the three days he had given Ange to return. He knew that she would not come back after the first day, but he still decided to stay and wait.
'By now she must either be obtaining a serendipity or she is facing something incredibly hard that she cannot leave. Anyways, the three days is up. I must leave. We will still meet again in a short while. I have to gain something of my own.' Mitchell voiced his thoughts to no one but himself and he immediately left the place and charged towards the mountain. A solemn look had appeared in his eyes.
He was very apprehensive towards the trial lands. He had already run into such an illusion while he was still on the ground, what would he face when he was on the mountain then. But he gave no further thought to it and continued running at a fast pace that would make him able to keep up the speed and also be able to endure at the same time.
Even though he had not been in the spiritual realm for a long time, he was already starting to get influenced and his actions and thoughts proved that. The path of a cultivator was always one of suffering, regret, loneliness and countless deaths. The people of this realm seem to take the death of their fellow kinsmen very lightly and no one cared even a single bit.
Before starting cultivation, ones mind had to be prepared for the countless amount of blood he would spill and also the pain and anguish he would feel on the road to power. Before cultivating, one had to think really hard if he wanted to be a cultivator. A cultivator who could kill without batting an eyelid, a cultivator who could shake the heavens and make the earth to quake, a cultivator who would have power to rise to the top and dominate everything and everyone. One had to think real long and hard if he was ready for the consequences to success, because the moment he had stepped in. He could not leave except . . . in death.
Mitchell did not even have that choice, he just found himself here and was doing his best to survive even if it meant spilling human blood in the end. He would do it.
From the beginning he never had a choice . . . because he did not know that a choice ever existed.
And even if he knew he could not back away now. Not when he was just getting excited.
********
"What's with the ghost of a smile that just appeared on that boy's face". The middle aged man asked when he saw Mitchell smiling at nothing but himself.
The man beside the screen had no answer and could only shrug. The woman who had followed the middle aged man opened her eyes and saw the scene of Mitchell smiling. A chilling cold aura rushed out of her but it was only for a moment before dissolving back into her body.
"It seems like he just thought of something funny. I wonder what he could be thinking about that made a smile appeared on his face". The young man said but with a lowered voice. It was just a guess after all.
'No, its not something funny. Thats the smile of a suppressed madman'. She thought to herself but made no efforts to speak it out.
After all, she was also like him once.
********
Ange was still in the illusion casted by the ancient voice. She could already be said to be lucky that her actions led to an opportunity for her to improve in her illusionary skills.
'Nine days, that's what the voice gave me here to learn it. But it looks like it won't be enough when I don't even know what am trying to comprehend.
"To thine make an illusion, thine must think, see, touch , feel the illusion before it is casted. This is thine art that was given to thou many years ago, it is called thee 'Ghost Monarch Seven Striking ' illusions." She remembered his words.
"What does the seven striking mean?" She asked but got no answer immediately. The ancient voice ignored her before answering after several hours.
"It is thine seventh step in this technique". That was all he said before keeping quiet.
Ange hesitated a but before asking "Do you know the Immortal Ghost Monarch?".
The voice answered immediately "Immortal Ghost Monarch . . . thus succeeded? How, when . . .where is thus". The ancient voice asked with anxiety on his face.
"I don't know."
"How did doe know about thy Immortal Ghost Monarch". The voice asked again. This time his voice was filled with even more anxiety.
"I am his last descendant". Ange replied. This time the voice was quiet for a very long time.
"If thee ascended, then thine hath wonder how powerful thy should be ". The voice spoke but was speaking to himself.
"Thus have locked mine up in this Immortal undead prison. And thine master hath ascended". The ancient voice spoke again. But there was a quiver in his voice this time.
Ange stayed quiet and listened to the ancient voice talk to herself. She had already guessed that this cultivator would have some relation to her ancestor. But when she heard' master ' her breath froze in her lungs.
"Thus on the basis that thine is an direct descendant from thine master, I would allow thine to keep the memories of the first striking until thou hast mastered it". He said in his very confusing English but Ange got the picture immediately.
Before she knew it she was back outside and near the obelisk again. She heard the ancient voice again. "When thine seal on thee hast been broken. Thou shalt come out and find master." That was the last thing she heard.
The ground underneath the obelisk started shining and she disappeared. It has been five days since she disappeared.
She appeared on the mountain after a few seconds. There was surprise on her face, she hadn't expected the ancient voice to teleport her to the mountain. When she remembered everything she heard she shivered, especially when it said that it was locked up like in a prison.
'Who was so powerful to be able to lock such a being. But then who was my ancestor that he became a master . . .' She looked down and could see the most of the island below.
She saw most of what was happening and the various cultivators who were rushing forward like hungry beasts towards food. She remembered Mitchell and looked around for him but could not see him. She knew he would not have waited for too long after all he had to get serendipitous events for himself.
And she did not feel bad. After all she would have done the same thing. "Seven Striking". Her soft mumble reverberated in the air like a murmur and she quietly left into the distance.
Even though she had stepped on the mountain itself, its summit still seemed as far as ever. And as she remembered the time limit that they had. To get to the top within a year and at the same time be among the one thousand people.
It was at this moment that she realized how hard and strenuous this trial would be on top of the weird existences and the ill-will that everyone harbouref for each other. They still did not even know what they would meet on the mountain. She shivered.
Everyone had underestimated it and the Divine pavilion. They clearly knew what they were doing and probably had a way to view what was going on.
'Sneaky old bastards'
This mountain was not going to climb itself so she better get to ascending. She looked up and was trying to find some paths to help her ascension faster, she saw someone who was looking down from a ridge. There was a frown on his face as he looked towards Ange. There was a thick black fog around him that corroded his surrondings. His gaze was piercing cold and contained murderous aura.
'Seventh stage of foundation building'. Ange was surprised at his demeanor. He looked like he wanted to kill everyone. Judging from his height, he had just reached the mountain not too long ago, but why was he still waiting. He looked towards Ange again and his chilling gaze turned even colder. Ange knew what meant by those cold eyes and that murderous will . . . .he wanted to fight.