By IMERPUS RELUR
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The hall was silent—bones turned to dust, scrolls long faded, and the statue of the sect's founder cracked from age.
Liang Chen knelt before the fallen monument, sweeping ash and rubble aside with steady hands. He wasn't looking for treasure—just something left behind.
That was when his fingers touched a piece of hardened leather.
A storage pouch.
Old, brittle, but not empty.
Inside were the fragments of broken jade slips, a rotted spirit talisman, and at the very bottom—
a single low-grade spirit stone.
It pulsed faintly with spiritual light, like a breath long held.
He held it tightly.
> "One stone… that's enough."
He returned to the archive chamber and sat before the cracked monolith. The inheritance array had long been inactive, but he didn't need the legacy yet.
He needed to cultivate.