Ron, Trish, and Holt formed a temporary squad.

They moved through the dissipating mist, heading towards the semi-transparent dark red crystal enclosure.

As they got closer, the crystal structure became increasingly clear.

The surface of those crystal pillars was etched with strange patterns, like veins, with some energy seemingly flowing slowly inside, emitting a faint pulsating crimson glow.

"This is the core of the Bloodline Altar," Ron whispered, his eyes vigilantly scanning the surroundings:

"According to the Abyssal Creatures Atlas, though the trial formats differ, altar trials generally consist of three stages—Retracing, Resonance, and Transformation. We're probably nearing the final Transformation stage now."

"I've read about some of these stages too," Holt nodded, his slender fingers lightly brushing the storage bag at his waist, ensuring the Earth Elemental Golem Core was safe:

"But the specifics have always been a School secret. Seeing it firsthand is truly overwhelming."

Trish's gaze fixed on the crystal structure, her brown hair appeared especially dark under the crimson light:

"These crystals... they seem like some sort of living tissue that's been solidified. I can sense a faint life pulsation within, like the heartbeat of an ancient tree, but more... twisted."

The three of them advanced cautiously, each step taken with care, fearing to trigger some unknown trap.

A peculiar scent permeated the air, cold like metal yet possessing some indescribable warmth, as if they were within some massive creature's body.

Ron suddenly raised his hand to stop the two, his gaze sharp as an eagle's: "Stop."

As soon as he spoke, all three felt a faint ripple coming from ahead.

It was a very subtle sound, like a small creature swimming in water, accompanied by gentle splashes.

In a shadowed corner of the crystal platform, a small figure moved lightly, making tiny splashing sounds.

A head of silvery hair shimmered with an unusual luster reflected by the crystals, and large violet-blue eyes appeared even deeper, almost navy blue.

"Is that... Dale?" Ron frowned, his first instinct being that the Little Sea Siren by his side had somehow run ahead.

But in the next moment, his intuition told him something was off.

The aura emanating from this "Dale" was entirely different from that of the real Dale.

It was a more primitive, colder aura, lacking the unique warmth that Dale had.

"It's a replica."

He confirmed through his Extraordinary Recognition skills, sensing that the energy fluctuation from this "Dale" exceeded that of normal creatures:

"The Bloodline Altar might have created replicas of each of us, and this is hers."

This "Dale" looked almost identical to the real Dale, but her demeanor was entirely different.

Her movements were smoother than Dale's, each small gesture carrying a predatory grace and lethal elegance.

Her gaze was sharper, with her pupils glinting with a primitive, cold predator instinct, sending a chill down one's spine.

For a moment, Ron felt the real Dale beside him tense up, but she quickly relaxed again.

"Is that... me?"

Dale's voice was unafraid, instead, filled with curiosity and excitement: "It looks like me, but also not like me."

The replica seemed to sense their presence and turned its head, an eerie smile spreading across its face.

The smile seemed innocent, yet inexplicably creepy, as if hiding some real horror behind a mask.

"Oh, is big sister here to play with me?"

The replica Dale said in a naive tone.

She hopped forward a few steps, each step accompanied by splashing droplets.

"Master is here too, how wonderful."

The replica tilted its head, droplets sliding off its silver hair, only to halt midair, transforming into a miniature ice blade:

"Master, may I devour big sister? I want to become stronger, so I can better protect Master..."

With the murderous intent in her words, the air temperature plummeted, as if an invisible cold current emanated from the replica.

Frost began forming on the crystal platform, white mist lightly exhaled from her mouth and nose, condensing into translucent ice crystals, gently falling in the air.

Yet, even though it was just a replica, it seemed to harbor no hostility towards him, perhaps he should feel touched?

Ron calmly assessed the situation; he could feel that this replica was much stronger than the normal Dale.

Life energy fluctuations were more active, but also more unstable, like a container forcibly filled with too much energy, on the verge of breaking apart.

"She is indeed powerful," Ron whispered:

"But also very dangerous, with overly enhanced bloodline traits entirely driven by instinct."

Dale gazed at her replica, her eyes glinting with some understanding:

"She is a part of me... that part which only obeys instinct."

"Instinct?" The replica Dale tilted her head, her expression naive and confused, silver hair drifting with her movement, forming into tiny ice crystals:

"What are you talking about? I'm just... hungry."

As she uttered the last few words, her voice suddenly shifted in tone.

Like dozens of voices speaking simultaneously, her pupils dilated, almost engulfing the whites of her eyes, filled with uncontrollable greed and desire.

The replica Dale's form began to transform.

Her fingertips elongated, turning into sharp blue claws, their surface covered with dense scales;

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