Chapter 566: Chapter 25: The Final Trial

When the figure of the Frost Witch Kalsa, with her biting cold aura and subtle ice crystals, entered the Decaying Tower hall with a hint of weariness yet determination, the final vacancy was finally filled. The eight pinnacle Mystical Wizards of the Jade Land, having endured their own Trial Roads, once again gathered at this ancient nexus.

The time within the hall, seemingly frozen, was suddenly infused with vitality, yet overshadowed by a heavier, more primordial aura.

Just as Kalsa stood still, her gaze swept over the crowd, and she nodded slightly in acknowledgment—

“Tap… tap… tap…”

Slow, heavy, and with an odd rhythm, footsteps echoed like drumbeats on the heart of a decaying giant wood, coming from the deep darkness above the hall. The footsteps were not loud, yet they pierced through the space, leaving a Spiritual Imprint in everyone’s soul perception.

All eyes were instantly drawn to the shadowy entrance of the spiral stairs leading to the higher levels of the Tower.

A figure slowly emerged from the shadows.

He was stooped, as if bearing the weight of ancient ages, clad in a wide cloak woven naturally from countless withered vines and deep gray moss. The hood of the cloak hung low, covering most of his face, revealing only a jagged chin like weathered rock, and two strands of gray-white beard hanging to his chest like dry grass.

His exposed hands, skin showing a peculiar deep brown, with textures as deep as the growth rings of an old tree, bore a metallic cold luster. His long fingers and sharp, curved nails resembled the talons of a raptor, gently rested on the top of a seemingly common, yet faintly emitting ominous decay waves, twisted wooden staff.

With each step he took, the strange deep gray wooden floor beneath him silently rippled with fine, water-like emerald waves. As the ripples passed, the growth rings engraved on the floor seemed to experience millennia of accelerated weathering in an instant, becoming blurred and cracked, only to rapidly restore to their original state the next moment as his footsteps moved away, as if time was being casually manipulated at his feet.

He was the once master of this Domain of Decay — the Rotten Wood Elder, Altonia.

Rotten Wood Elder halted in the center of the hall, stopped before the “Throne” formed by the mustached roots.

He did not sit, but stood silently. An indescribable pressure, seemingly emanating from the world’s primordial decay, spread slowly like an invisible tide, filling the entire space. The flow of jade energy barriers on the walls suddenly slowed, and the black roots coiling the dome crawled with noticeably reduced vigor, as if paying tribute to their master.

Beneath the hood, two faint yet profoundly deep emerald lights slowly ignited, like two nearly extinguished stars, coldly sweeping over the eight Mystical Wizards below.

As the gaze swept over, even the proud Anderson involuntarily tensed up, a flash of awe and dread crossing his eyes. Sophia put away her playful smile, her face unusually serious. Jeraf bowed slightly, Kalsa instinctively wrapped her Frost Cloak tighter, Baggen clenched his fists, and Agit’s aura hidden in the shadow became more obscure.

Lynch slightly furrowed his brow.

The current Altonia was completely different from the last time seen at the auction house.

The appearance hadn’t changed, neither had the spiritual power, but indeed it felt like a completely different person, as if he had been replaced.

How to put it…

Perhaps it was a change in aura.

The Altonia seen last time felt relatively peaceful, whereas now he emanated a chilling, somber presence, with an indescribable danger.

Lynch’s [Grid Circuit] silently operated, attempting to analyze the rule information contained in that gaze, but he only sensed a vast, unfathomable ocean of decay, as if attempting to drag his perception grid into eternal silence. He immediately ceased probing, his expression turning grave.

Meanwhile, Altonia also seemed to notice something, his gaze pausing on him for a moment, the corners of his mouth twitching with an inscrutable meaning.

He said nothing and turned his head instead.

“Everyone is here.”

Altonia spoke. His voice hoarse, dry, like countless dead branches scraping in the cold wind, carried an echo as if resounding from the depths of the earth, vibrating directly in everyone’s spirit, bypassing the medium of air.

Everyone glanced at each other, then rose and bowed to Altonia: “Your Excellency, Rotten Wood Elder.”

Altonia nodded slightly, then said, “First, I need to congratulate all of you for successfully passing the initial test. You have all grasped the basic knowledge of the Domain of Decay. I presume you all have some understanding of it now.”

The crowd remained uncertain.

“Very good.”

Altonia continued, “This shows that everyone here meets my requirements and is eligible to inherit the Domain of Decay.”

“However…” The source of thɪs content is 𝙣𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙡⚫𝔣𝔦𝔯𝔢⚫𝘯𝘦𝘵

At this point, he paused slightly, “There is only one inheritance, while there are eight of you present. So, who should my Domain Inheritance go to? To whom?”

His gaze swept over everyone present.

Witch Kalsa was the first to become nervous; she said with some anxiety, “You didn’t mention before the trial began that we would need to kill each other.”

She was essentially the weakest among those present. If Altonia’s upcoming inheritance adopted a ’battle royale’ mode, she would undoubtedly be the first to be eliminated.

Altonia smiled, “You misunderstood my meaning, Witch Kalsa.”

After a pause, he continued to explain, “Although the competition will be fierce, I don’t require you to achieve victory through slaughter. That does not align with the essence of decay.”

“The rules for this trial are—”

Altonia’s voice was unwavering, as if he was stating an eternal truth, “The starting point is here. The endpoint…” The staff in his hand slowly raised, pointing to the concealed high ceiling in the boundless darkness, “…is at the tower’s summit.”

“My inheritance lies atop the tower.” The tip of his staff flickered slightly with a dark green glow.

“Your path, there is only one—ascend step by step!” The staff struck the ground forcefully!

“Buzz—!”

As the staff touched the ground, the entire hall shook suddenly! The deep gray wood grain in the center of the floor erupted with brilliant dark green light, rotating fiercely and sinking downward! The deep spiral staircase reappeared, but this time, it was not just leading to darkness. The decaying energy flowing along its edges became extremely glaring and thick, like boiling venom!

The staircase itself also transformed, no longer a tidy stone stair, but formed by countless gnarled, writhing, and foreboding black roots, exuding a dense sense of decay! The surface of the roots was covered with sharp wooden thorns and cracks streaming with dark green liquid, rife with primordial danger.

More unsettling was the surrounding void, no longer pure darkness, but permeated with palpable gray-green mist.

Within the mist, countless twisted and faintly wailing faces seemed to flicker briefly, radiating an aura of soul-chilling despair and decay! These were the remaining Spiritual Imprints of countless failed individuals over the years, manifested by the rules of decay in this Tower of Decay!

Altonia’s voice echoed coldly, “Step upon it, and the Power of Decay will cling to you like maggots, increasing with each step, eroding your physical shell, Magic Power, and even your soul! Space Distortion, illusions abound, and my previous inability to control the fragments of decay rules, transforming into invisible blades, navigate within.”

“Struggle, advance, resist, or… be assimilated, becoming a part of this stairway, nourishing the decay.” His gaze swept the group, and those dark green lights seemed to see through the deepest fears and desires in each soul.

“The first to reach the tower’s summit will be my inheritor.” Altonia concluded, his voice devoid of expectation, only pure, cold rules, “Go forth. Use your will, on this stairway to ultimate demise, to engrave your proof of existence, or… the mark of vanishing.”

When he finished speaking, he lightly tapped the ground with his staff again. The entrance to the boiling “Return to Dust” stairway erupted in dark green brilliance, like a giant mouth ready to devour, exuding deadly allure and endless peril.

Altonia’s figure, like merging into the shadows, slowly retreated, disappearing behind the coiled roots, leaving only the ominous glowing stairway entrance and the eight Mystical Wizards standing at the crossroads of destiny.

The air seemed to solidify, heavy pressure and the yearning for Strength clashing intensely within each heart. The endpoint and inheritance were just on that endless stairway, and below their feet was the starting point leading to the pinnacle of Strength or eternal silence.

The final trial had begun!

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