We opened the door and stepped into another grassland, but this time the atmosphere was completely different.
There were countless presences everywhere—faint, scattered, moving.
Spirit beasts.
I could sense dozens, maybe hundreds, hiding in the tall grass and behind small hills. Before I could guess what the level was about, the same cultivator from the previous floor appeared in front of us.
"This level's main task is simple," he said. "Collect points. To collect points, kill spirit beasts. A one-star beast gives one point, a two-star gives two points, and a three-star gives three points. You must gather a minimum of one thousand points to advance."
He paused, then continued, "You will also receive beast cores for every kill. The reward rate is based on star ranks, not percentages. Since the previous level had no reward, this one gives 1.2× beast core value. Lastly—only the first one thousand groups to reach one thousand points may enter the next level."
Then he disappeared.
So the task looked simple on the surface. Just kill beasts and gather points.
But the limit of one thousand groups was the real danger. If millions of cultivators entered this level, then millions would fail. This test was pure combat ability, nothing else.
But what truly caught my attention wasn't the competition.
It was the beast cores.
This level was the best opportunity to earn a fortune.
Each kill gave a point and a beast core without the usual percentage cut. And with the 20% bonus added, the profits skyrocketed. If we focused only on three-star beasts, one beast core should give around five thousand Qi stones. With the bonus, it became six thousand.
Kill a thousand three-star beasts, and that's six million Qi stones.
More than enough to buy Feng Xinyi.
…Why does that sound bad?
No matter. If it helps her, I'll do it.
I immediately started hunting, cutting through the spirit beasts nonstop.
---
Meanwhile…
I recovered all my memories right before the inheritance began.
My battles, my techniques, my experiences—everything returned. With this, I could finish the inheritance easily.
But I won't.
This inheritance is a chance for Gu Chaun.
If he wins and becomes a protector, if he settles down and chooses a peaceful life, then maybe—just maybe—he'll give up on the king selection.
Cultivators always have two paths:
One where they chase glory.
And one where they walk away and live quietly.
Gu Chaun could choose either. He could become the king of a planet or just a normal mortal hiding in a small village. What I fear is the third option—the path where he keeps chasing a dream that will destroy him.
He has the potential to surpass even my father. He can become a great figure across the universe. But that requires time. A hundred years is nowhere near enough. And when he reaches Planet Gu and sees the truth—that he won't win the king selection—not because he is weak, but because the timing is impossible…
I don't know what he will do.
I don't know if his heart will break or if he'll force himself forward anyway, hurting himself more with every step.
That's the pain I refuse to let him experience.
I'm selfish.
I don't want him to suffer for my sake.
But if protecting him means he'll hate me, I'll accept that.
With that thought, I entered the inheritance.
---
The first level wasn't difficult. Right after seeing the riddle, I understood its meaning.
But solving it wasn't my goal.
My priority was slowing down the other groups—Li Clan, Feng Clan, and the five other powerful teams. Their cultivations and teamwork were the strongest. If they moved ahead too smoothly, they would threaten Gu Chaun's lead.
In the first level, opportunities were limited, but there were still ways.
First, I led my own group away from the correct path.
I told them there might be another continuation of the riddle elsewhere.
They followed without questioning.
Then I headed toward the Li Clan's team.
They were close to solving the riddle. If they solved it now, they would be too fast.
So I adjusted a few meanings—nothing too obvious, just enough to twist the interpretation. It didn't make the solution impossible, but it would waste their time.
Gu Chaun and I were already under suspicion, so I couldn't act too boldly.
Even small moves were risky.
After finishing, I returned and told my group we should sit and brainstorm the riddle.
I fed them small hints, adding subtle meanings here and there until they slowly pieced it together.
We completed the riddle eventually, but by then, Gu Chaun had already finished.
That wasn't surprising—I knew he would understand it quickly.
On our way out, I saw Feng Lian's group.
I asked if we could use the area.
He rejected me instantly.
I knew right away that he had already figured out the riddle too.
He wasn't going to give up the area just because I asked.
I could beat him and his entire group if I wanted to.
But there was no point.
Instead, I would crush his will.
A person like him is filled with arrogance.
He believes everyone beneath him exists to prove his superiority. He walks with the confidence of someone who has never been challenged properly.
People like him are perfect.
Once their arrogance is shattered, they can be controlled easily.
A protector needs support.
Who better than someone who worships strength?
Gu Chaun must rise smoothly. He must become a protector. He must gain stability.
The more stable his life becomes, the farther he will move from that hopeless dream.
I will ensure it.