The Spirit Well shimmered beneath Mo Han's feet, glowing like a pool of captured starlight.

He closed his eyes, exhaling once.

"This is it."

Without another thought, Mo Han stepped forward and jumped.

The liquid aura embraced him like silk. It wasn't cold or warm — it was beyond temperature, pure essence pressing against every pore of his body. As he sank deeper, his vision filled with light. The Spirit Well wasn't water — it was pure spiritual fluid, luminous and alive.

Every breath filled his veins with energy.

He crossed his legs mid-submersion, his body floating effortlessly, and began his cultivation.

Immediately, the entire pool reacted. Ripples spread outward from his body as though the Spirit Well itself recognized his presence. Its glow brightened, converging around him in swirling rings of gold and silver. The aura energy rushed toward him in waves, thick streams of essence funneling into his dantian.

Every meridian in his body expanded, flooding with aura until they shimmered like molten glass. His dantian trembled violently, straining to contain the overwhelming energy pouring in.

So much energy…! Mo Han gritted his teeth, his mind blazing with focus. If I can absorb this, I'll break through… but if I lose control—

The thought dissolved into raw sensation.

The Spirit Well's energy was not gentle. It didn't flow — it invaded. Every drop pressed against the limits of his cultivation, forcing his dantian to expand or shatter.

His breathing slowed, steady. His consciousness sank inward, focusing on his inner sea.

There — deep within his core — his aura flame burned like a tiny star. It flickered, struggling against the incoming surge of essence. The borders of his cultivation realm strained, trembling like thin glass about to crack.

Elder Rank… he thought. Only one step away.

He gathered his will, focusing his spiritual threads into a single point at his center. The energy inside him compressed tighter, tighter, tighter — until his entire body shook.

Then —

BOOM.

A shockwave exploded from within him.

The entire Spirit Well erupted in light, sending waves of liquid aura crashing against the cavern walls. The water glowed gold and white, spiraling upward like a pillar of divine flame.

Mo Han's body arched as his dantian burst open and reformed, expanding tenfold. His veins pulsed with pure light, his skin radiating with threads of energy that traced every nerve.

The sensation was indescribable — pain and power woven together. Every fragment of his cultivation shattered like old stone, only to rebuild itself anew, stronger, clearer, purer.

A deafening roar echoed through his body — the cry of a breakthrough.

His aura surged outward, flooding the cavern.

"Elder Rank."

The words reverberated through his consciousness, calm and certain.

Mo Han opened his eyes.

Golden light shone from his pupils, twin flames flickering within. Around him, the Spirit Well churned gently, no longer resisting — as though acknowledging him as its new master.

He raised his hand, and the liquid essence responded, flowing toward his palm like obedient streams before dissipating into his aura.

His body felt lighter than air, yet solid as stone. The power coursing through him was terrifying — precise, controlled, and endless.

He clenched his fist once, feeling the very air ripple around it.

"Finally," he murmured, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "Elder Rank Cultivator."

For a while, he simply floated in the glowing pool, allowing his body to stabilize. Each breath refined the energy within him further, his aura condensing into perfect balance.

The remaining day of the trial passed in tranquil stillness.

Mo Han used the time to circulate the Spirit Well's essence through his meridians, tempering his bones and flesh. His vitality strengthened to the point where every heartbeat sent waves of energy outward. His spirit sea expanded — vast and calm, capable of storing more than twice his previous capacity.

When he finally stood, droplets of liquid light slid from his skin, vanishing before touching the ground.

The Spirit Well had dimmed slightly — no longer the raging force it had been before — but its glow was calm, peaceful. It had given what it could.

Mo Han bowed slightly toward the water, murmuring, "Your gift won't be wasted."

The three-day trial was nearly over.

When he emerged from the cavern...

Waiting for him near the clearing were members of the Herb Tribe.

They gasped when they saw him approach — his presence radiant, commanding, almost divine. The boy who had first met him ran forward, eyes wide with relief.

"Mo Han! You… you're alive!"

Mo Han smiled faintly, patting the child's head. "You doubted me?"

The boy laughed, tears welling in his golden eyes. "Everyone thought you were eaten! The Fire Python's roar shook the whole forest — we thought you died!"

An elderly man — the same tribe elder who had once doubted him — stepped forward slowly, leaning on his staff. His voice trembled with reverence. "The Fire Python's flames have vanished. The Spirit Well flows freely once more. The forest… breathes again."

Mo Han inclined his head slightly. "It's done."

The old spirit's gaze softened. "You've freed us from a curse that haunted our families for generations. Words cannot express our gratitude."

He turned and gestured. Several young spirits came forward, carrying baskets woven from living vines. Inside them shimmered an array of herbs — roots glowing with soft light, fruits pulsating with natural energy, blossoms exuding faint spiritual fragrance.

"These are our most precious gifts," the elder said solemnly. "The Heartroot Blossoms that heal mortal wounds, the Silver Ash Petals that extend life, and the Spirit Fruits that purify one's core. Please accept them. They are poor payment for a debt that can never be repaid."

Mo Han's gaze softened. "You've already paid enough. Keep your strength for your people."

But the elder shook his head firmly. "Our tribe keeps its oaths. You saved us; our gratitude must be shown. Take these — and take our promise. If ever you need the Herb Tribe, we will come to your call."

The young spirits behind him knelt, bowing deeply.

Mo Han accepted the gift quietly, storing the herbs in his ring with a respectful nod. "Then I will accept, not as payment, but as friendship."

The old spirit smiled, eyes glistening.

-

tq guys

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