The victory against Blackwood Jaron sent shockwaves through the Grand Tournament. The Blackwood House, known for its fierce pride and martial prowess, was left reeling, their scion's humiliating defeat at the hands of a mere twelve-year-old Valerius becoming the subject of hushed whispers and incredulous stares. Their elders, initially dismissive, now watched Ren with narrowed, suspicious eyes, unable to reconcile what they had seen with their understanding of cultivation.
"Unbelievable!" exclaimed Elder Thorne of the Sunstone Clan, a burly man whose spiritual energy pulsed with the solidity of rock. "That boy's movements... it was like watching a ghost. And that strike! No visible injury, yet Jaron's arm was useless."
Beside him, Elder Mei of the Jade Serpent Clan, a woman of elegant grace and sharp intellect, hummed thoughtfully. "It was not brute force. It was precise, almost surgical. A mastery of pressure points, perhaps, but infused with a subtle qi manipulation I have never witnessed in this realm." Her gaze lingered on Ren as he left the arena, a flicker of profound curiosity in her eyes. "The Valerius family... they claim to be in decline, yet they produce such a prodigy."
Lord Alaric, oblivious to the deeper suspicions, was in a state of euphoric disbelief. He clapped Ren on the back, his eyes shining with tears of pride. "My son! You have brought honor back to the Valerius name! This is just the beginning!" He immediately began accepting invitations from other families for celebratory dinners, his once-meek demeanor replaced by a newfound confidence.
Lady Seraphina, though still concerned by the intensity she sometimes saw in Ren's eyes, allowed herself a rare smile. "You truly are remarkable, Ren," she whispered, squeezing his hand. "Your father is so proud."
Ren accepted the praise with practiced humility. He knew the true source of his 'remarkable talent' was not the Valerius lineage, but the millennia of cultivation knowledge stored in his ancient mind, combined with the subtle influence of the Shadow Orb. The illusionary shimmer, the precise qi strike – these were but rudimentary applications of his former power, adapted for this weaker realm.
That night, in the quiet solitude of his hidden chamber, Ren retrieved the Shadow Orb. It pulsed with a faint, internal light, more vibrant than before. He held it, feeling the familiar connection, the ancient whisper.
"It remembers," he murmured, his voice low. He focused, pouring his refined Foundation Establishment qi into the Orb, seeking more visions, more understanding.
The Orb responded, not with chaotic flashes, but with a clearer, more coherent stream of images. He saw the Abyssal Heart Secret Realm again, but this time, he saw its true purpose: not merely a source of treasures, but a nexus, a powerful anchor point in the cosmos, capable of drawing fragments of other realms into its orbit. He saw the 'Void Heart,' his primary treasure, as a direct conduit to this nexus.
Then, the vision shifted. He saw not just his own death, but the aftermath. The triumphant cultivators of the Upper Realm, celebrating their victory, sifting through the ruins of his stronghold. And among them, a fleeting glimpse of another figure, cloaked and hidden, moving through the chaos, collecting something. A small, dark object. Not the Shadow Orb, but something else, something that resonated with a similar, yet distinct, energy signature.
The vision ended, leaving Ren with a profound sense of unease. "Another fragment?" he thought, his brow furrowed. "And someone else is collecting them?"
The idea that another entity, perhaps a survivor from his past, or a new player entirely, was also gathering Abyssal Heart fragments in the Upper Realm, or even in this Lower Realm, was a chilling prospect. It added a layer of complexity and danger to his plans that he hadn't anticipated.
The Shadow Orb pulsed again, and this time, the whisper changed, becoming clearer, more direct, though still ethereal: Seek the Echo. It calls.
"The Echo?" Ren questioned aloud, his mind racing. He remembered the Abyssal Echo Stone, the artifact designed to resonate with other Abyssal Heart relics. Was the Orb telling him that the Echo Stone was also here, on Xylos? Or was it referring to a different kind of 'echo'?
His thoughts were interrupted by a knock on his chamber door. "Ren? Are you awake, my son?" It was Lord Alaric.
Ren quickly concealed the Shadow Orb, its faint glow vanishing instantly. "Yes, Father. Come in."
Alaric entered, his face beaming. "Ren, the pairings for the next round have been announced! You will face Sunstone Kaelen!"
Ren's eyes narrowed. Sunstone Kaelen. Not a relative, but a common name. This Kaelen was the scion of the Sunstone Clan, known for their impenetrable defenses and powerful, qi-infused strikes. He was older, perhaps fifteen, and rumored to be at the Early Foundation Establishment stage, a true powerhouse in this realm.
"He is formidable, my son," Alaric continued, his voice dropping slightly. "His 'Stone Fist' technique can shatter boulders. Many believe he will win the entire tournament."
Ren merely nodded, a cold glint in his eyes. This was exactly what he needed. A true test. A chance to push his limits further, to gauge the true strength of this realm's peak cultivators. And perhaps, to learn more about the Shadow Orb's whispers.
As Alaric left, Ren retrieved the Orb. He held it, feeling its subtle hum. "Seek the Echo. It calls." The words resonated in his mind. Was the tournament itself the 'Echo'? A catalyst for something greater? Or was there another, more literal, echo of the Abyssal Heart hidden somewhere on Xylos, waiting to be found? The Grand Tournament was about to become far more than a mere competition; it was becoming a hunt, a desperate search for answers, guided by the whispers of a forgotten past. What other secrets would the Shadow Orb reveal, and what would be the true cost of unlocking them?