The path beyond the northern ridge led downward, into a deep valley perpetually shrouded in mist. This was not a place mentioned in any sect manual; it was a secret, and the system pulled him toward it.
-New Zone Discovered: Valley of the Unhewn Spirit-
-Ambient Qi: Chaotic, Untamed. High Risk, High Reward.-
-Warning: Spirit Root Compatibility Test Initiated.-
Wang Chen stepped into the fog. The air was thick, alive with flickering lights and whispers that brushed against his soul. He could feel the chaotic energy here, wild and unpredictable. It was the antithesis of the sect's structured cultivation.
He reached a shallow pool. Its surface shimmered, reflecting not the sky, but pulsing threads of raw energy. He knelt and touched the water. Instantly, a sharp, icy shock ran up his arm—not pain, but a probing sensation. His spirit root reacted instinctively, greedily drawing in the subtle, wild energy.
The threads beneath the surface reacted violently, whipping like miniature storms around his fingers. He gasped, jolted back. Then, as abruptly as it began, the movement stilled. Something had shifted. He had passed the first, silent test.
He moved deeper. The trees grew taller, their trunks wide and ancient. A faint path appeared, leading him to a ravine where a stream glowed with veins of silver energy.
Wang Chen knelt beside the stream and attempted to guide the wild energy into his Dantian. A searing, chaotic pain lanced through him. But beneath the agony, he felt something cataclysmically awaken—a latent, enormous potential. His "useless" spirit root wasn't just absorbing the energy; it was adapting to it, shaping the chaos into a coiling, potent force within him.
A rustle from the underbrush. From the shadows emerged a creature unlike any he had seen: a fox-like beast, its fur glowing with faint blue light, its eyes reflecting intelligence and curiosity. It was a guardian of this place.
The fox circled him, then darted straight into the energized stream. Light flared brilliantly, and a powerful, jarring impact struck Wang Chen's spirit root. He cried out, not from injury, but from sheer shock. The energy within him twisted, warped, and then, in an instant, harmonized.
Images flashed behind his eyelids: roots splitting stone, streams of energy flowing into the mountain's hidden veins. His spirit root was not broken—it was unique. A key forged for this untamed place.
The fox leaped back onto the bank, tilting its head as if in expectation, then vanished into the forest.
Wang Chen stood, wiping sweat from his brow, his body humming with newly forged power. He truly grasped it now. His root was a tool for chaos, a conduit for the raw, unhewn spirit of the world.