In the southern dominion of the Chrysoprase Empire stood Pyradine City—a thriving stronghold where warriors, merchants, and cultivators converged like rivers flowing into the sea.
Blades clashed endlessly within training yards.
The sharp rhythm of steel echoed through the air as disciples honed their techniques, sweat mixing with dust beneath the scorching sun.
Merchants lined the streets in dense clusters, their voices rising above the noise—
"Spirit herbs! Fresh from Verdant Jade forests!"
"Refined iron blades! Cut through bone like butter!"
"Low-grade spirit stones! Cheap, cheap!"
Young masters walked proudly through the crowds, robes fluttering behind them, eyes filled with arrogance. Servants followed closely, carrying weapons, treasures, or simply their masters' dignity.
Meanwhile, true experts passed quietly.
Their presence was subtle.
Their gazes calm.
Like still water hiding unfathomable depths.
And as always—
Rumors flowed faster than the wind.
---
At a teahouse near the central street—
"I heard the Zhang family's young master broke through overnight!"
"Nonsense," another scoffed, sipping tea. "He probably swallowed pills like candy."
"Still counts!" a third man laughed. "Power is power!"
---
At a roadside stall—
"They say a wandering cultivator discovered an ancient inheritance in the mountains!"
"Bah!" the vendor spat. "Last time someone said that, it was just a bat-infested cave!"
Laughter erupted.
---
Near the city gates—
"Did you hear?" a guard whispered. "A strange shop opened in the west district."
"What kind of shop?"
"They say… it lets you enter another world."
"…Are you drunk this early?"
"I'm serious! Old Liu swore he saw someone crawling out of it—screaming like he'd seen a ghost!"
"Sounds like a haunted house."
"Or a scam."
"Same thing."
More laughter followed.
Because in Pyradine City—
Rumors were cheap.
Truth was not.
---
Yet far from the bustling streets…
In a quiet, neglected corner of the western district—
Stood a dying shop.
Dust gathered thickly at its entrance, undisturbed for days.
The wooden walls creaked softly, aged by time and neglect. The sign above the door hung crookedly, as if it might fall at any moment.
And beneath it—
Sat a young man.
Yuan Bi.
"…No customers again," he muttered, lazily fanning himself with a worn folding fan.
His posture was relaxed—almost careless.
As if the world around him held no urgency.
The sign above his head read:
Origins Dungeon Hall
A name so grand…
It bordered on ridiculous.
---
Occasionally, passersby would slow their steps.
Their eyes flickered toward the shop.
Then they whispered among themselves—
"That's the place I told you about."
"The one where people scream?"
"Yeah."
"…Looks like it's about to collapse."
"I heard the owner went mad after failing his cultivation."
"I heard he's tricking people with illusion techniques."
"I heard he hasn't eaten properly in days."
Yuan Bi's eyebrow twitched slightly.
"…I can hear you," he said flatly.
The group stiffened.
Then quickly walked away.
---
Once—
This place had been a humble shop.
It sold low-grade weapons.
Cheap healing ointments.
Barely enough to survive.
Now—
It sold nothing.
Not even hope.
Yuan Bi leaned back in his chair, eyes drifting toward the empty street.
"…At this rate," he murmured, "I'll starve before I make anything of myself."
His tone was calm.
Too calm.
As if he had already accepted it.
---
But that was before—
Two days ago.
---
That morning—
He had woken from restless sleep, his mind heavy and unfocused.
And then—
A voice.
Cold.
Emotionless.
Not heard through ears—
But directly within his mind.
> "Initialization complete."
Yuan Bi froze.
His breathing stopped.
"…What?"
There was no answer.
Only silence.
For a long moment, he simply sat there.
Then slowly—
Very slowly—
He exhaled.
"…So I've finally gone mad," he muttered.
But something felt… different.
Not hallucination.
Not imagination.
It was too clear.
Too precise.
---
Then—
Knowledge flooded in.
Not words.
Not sound.
But understanding.
---
Yuan Bi's eyes sharpened.
"…A bound artifact?"
Fragments of information surfaced in his mind like broken reflections:
A core connected to him.
Something ancient.
Something beyond ordinary comprehension.
Its purpose—
To construct… trial realms.
---
"…Trial realms?" he repeated.
He frowned.
That wasn't a cultivation technique.
Nor a weapon.
Nor a treasure.
It was…
A function.
---
He sat in silence for a long time.
Then suddenly—
He laughed.
Low.
Soft.
Amused.
"…So that's how it is."
No heaven-defying inheritance.
No instant rise to power.
Instead—
A strange ability to create illusionary worlds where others could temper themselves through life-and-death trials.
"…Not bad," he said lightly.
Even if it wasn't what he expected—
It was still an opportunity.
---
By the next day—
The shop had changed.
Completely.
Gone were the dusty shelves and broken weapons.
In their place—
Four black seats stood in a row.
Each crafted from an unknown material.
Cold.
Smooth.
Unfamiliar.
Atop each seat rested a strange helm-like artifact.
Dark.
Silent.
Yet faintly pulsing.
As if something within them breathed.
---
There were no visible formations.
No spirit stones embedded in the walls.
No radiant energy.
And yet—
Anyone who stepped inside could feel it.
A subtle pressure.
An unease that crawled along the skin.
As if the space itself was watching.
---
At the entrance—
A simple wooden board was placed.
Written in neat, emotionless strokes:
---
Open: Morning to Midnight
Entry Fee: 2 Spirit Crystals per hour
Trial Realm Access: 5 Spirit Crystals
Maximum Time: 6 hours
No disturbances allowed. Violators will be suppressed.
Life and death within the trial feel real. Enter at your own risk.
---
Yuan Bi stared at it for a moment.
Then looked out at the empty street.
"…Perfect," he said.
"No one will come."
---
Outside—
People noticed.
"They changed everything overnight?"
"That place looks… different."
"I heard the owner obtained some kind of inheritance."
"I heard it's a cursed artifact."
"I heard—"
"You always hear things."
Still—
No one entered.
Because curiosity was one thing.
Spending spirit crystals?
That was another matter entirely.
---
Until—
BANG!
The door slammed open violently.
"Yuan Bi! What nonsense are you up to this time?!"
A round figure rushed in, panting heavily.
It was Min Luan.
---
Yuan Bi glanced at him lazily.
"You again?"
Min Luan wiped his sweat, glaring.
"You opened a new business and didn't tell me?"
Yuan Bi smirked faintly.
"You're just in time."
He gestured toward the seats.
"Want to try a trial realm?"
---
"A trial realm?" Min Luan snorted. "What is this, some child's illusion trick?"
Yuan Bi pointed silently at the wooden board.
Min Luan read it.
Once.
Twice.
Then his expression twisted.
"…Seven spirit crystals?"
"Are you robbing people?!"
"Try it," Yuan Bi said calmly. "If it's worthless, I'll refund you."
"…Really?"
"Really."
---
Min Luan hesitated.
Seven spirit crystals wasn't a small amount.
But curiosity—
And pride—
Won.
With a snort, he slapped the crystals onto the table.
"Fine!"
"I'll expose your scam!"
---
He sat down heavily.
Picked up the helm.
"…This better not be a waste."
Then—
He placed it on his head.
---
Darkness.
---
Cold wind brushed past his skin.
A foul, rotten stench filled his nose.
When his vision returned—
The world had changed.
---
A blood-red sky loomed overhead.
The air was thick and suffocating.
Before him stood a decaying structure—
A mining facility.
Rust clung to every surface.
Wooden beams sagged.
Metal groaned softly, as if it might collapse at any moment.
"…What is this place…?"
His voice trembled.
Unconsciously.
---
A thought surfaced in his mind:
> Enter the trial?
Min Luan swallowed.
"…Yes."
---
The world shifted.
---
Inside the mine—
It was dark.
Too dark.
The silence pressed against his ears.
Then—
A faint sound.
Dragging.
Scraping.
Something moved.
---
A figure stumbled into view.
Its body twisted.
Skin blackened.
Eyes dull and lifeless.
A miner's uniform hung loosely from its rotting frame.
It raised its head—
And stared directly at him.
---
Min Luan froze.
"…That's not real…"
The corpse took a step forward.
Another.
Then suddenly—
It lunged.
---
"AHHHHH!!!"
Min Luan turned and ran.
His heart pounded violently.
His breathing became erratic.
Behind him—
More sounds.
More footsteps.
More dragging.
---
They were coming.
---
A sharp pain struck his leg.
He screamed—
Falling to the ground.
Something cold latched onto him.
Draining.
Clinging.
---
"GET OFF!"
He flailed wildly.
But more shapes emerged from the darkness.
Surrounding him.
Closing in.
---
"EXIT! EXIT!"
---
Light exploded.
---
Min Luan tore the helm off violently—
Falling onto the floor.
His body trembled uncontrollably.
His robes were drenched in sweat.
His face pale as death.
"…That…"
"…was real…"
---
Yuan Bi leaned back in his chair.
A faint smile curved his lips.
"Told you."
---
Min Luan staggered to his feet.
Without another word—
He stumbled out of the shop.
---
Outside—
People immediately gathered.
"What happened?"
"Why do you look like that?"
"Was it a scam?"
---
Min Luan paused.
His lips trembled slightly.
Then he said—
Slowly.
Clearly.
"…It's real."
---
Silence fell.
---
"What do you mean real?"
"…You'll understand if you go in."
---
By evening—
The rumors had changed.
No longer laughter.
No longer dismissal.
But something else—
Something deeper.
---
"That place is terrifying…"
"No… it's incredible…"
"You can fight monsters inside…"
"You can die—and come back…"
"It feels real…"
"It's better than hunting…"
"It's a treasure land…"
"It's cursed…"
"…It's both."
---
And in the quiet corner of the western district—
Inside the Origins Dungeon Hall—
Yuan Bi sat alone.
Calm.
Unbothered.
Watching.
Waiting.
---
"…Finally," he murmured.
"…business."