The carvings appeared to depict a battle, an epic war between these mysterious beings and other strange creatures, locked in combat with a ferocity.
Despite the damage caused by the passage of millennia, the war scenes were clear: towering figures clashed, surrounded by storms of fire, ice, and wind.
Aksai marveled at the detail, when his eyes drifted to other scenes—ones depicting more peaceful moments of Spirit cultivators’ lives.
There were carvings of talismans being forged in intricate, glowing circles, Spirit pills being formed from aetheric flames, and cultivators sitting in deep meditation, their spiritual energy spiraling outward like a cyclone.
The sheer diversity of scenes made the wall feel alive, each section portraying different aspects of the ancient world it commemorated.
Yet, amidst the chaos and artistry, some parts were blurred, worn down by time. Certain figures and symbols had faded into obscurity, their meanings lost to history. Aksai found himself staring at some carvings he couldn’t comprehend at all.
And yet, right at the heart of the wall, at its peak, a massive plaque stood out. The words inscribed there were bold, unmistakable, and written in the ancient script of the Dadangar Subcontinent: Holy Woodland Torel.
Aksai stared at the plaque, the realization sinking in. This wasn’t just a wall. It was a gateway, a barrier to something far more ancient than even the demonic factions had led him to believe.
“What… What is this?” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper as he instinctively reached out to touch the wall.
Before his hand could make contact, Jina’s voice cut through the heavy silence.
“This wall contains a small world within itself, Aksai. If you touch it, you’ll be immediately summoned inside.” Her tone was even, but there was a weight to her words that made him hesitate. “Not even I can bring you back once that happens.”
Aksai froze, his fingertips hovering just inches from the wall. He turned to look at her.
“So far, only the Haan Di Lord has managed to return from that mini world. Others—many others—haven’t been so lucky.”
Jina’s gaze was serious, her earlier casual demeanor replaced by something far more somber. “Three Core Formation Lords from the demonic factions have tried and failed to come back.”
Aksai’s hand dropped back to his side. Jina didn’t try to stop him from touching the wall, but her words were a clear warning. Whatever lay beyond this wall was no mere test of strength or skill—it could be a life-changing decision that one was unable to reverse.
“So before you make a decision,” Jina added, her voice soft but firm, “think things through carefully.”
Aksai stood there, staring at the towering wall once more. The carvings of ancient battles and elemental mastery seemed to pulse with life, as if daring him to make a choice.
Jina didn’t pressure Aksai to decide right away. Her own responsibilities weighed heavily on her, especially with the Sun Ocean Lord present in the sect’s territory.
His arrival had increased the workload for every sect member, and the upcoming marriage between Haitin and the Sun Ocean Lord’s daughter, Siya Solaris, was another event demanding her attention.
As a grand elder, Jina had too much on her plate.
She turned to leave, her voice steady as she walked back, “I’ll come back in a few hours. If I still find you here, I’ll escort you out of the formation. So, make sure you’ve made up your mind before then.”
Her words trailed off as she exited the translucent barrier, leaving Aksai alone with his thoughts.
Aksai didn’t look back, his eyes fixed on the towering wall. He couldn’t risk communicating with Yelia in his mind just yet, not knowing how the mysterious wall might react to such an intrusion.
The only reason he even considered entering the small world hidden within the wall was because he had the Enchanted Everwood Farm to rely on if things went awry.
He began walking along the base of the wall. His neural link fabric quietly recorded every detail, saving the intricate runes and pictorial depictions for later study.
After a while, Aksai stopped under the giant plaque that read “Holy Woodland Torel” and sat down cross-legged, closing his eyes. His neural link fabric continued analyzing the recorded information, while he focused inward, gathering his thoughts.
He wasn’t left alone for long.
Within an hour, a group of initial-stage and mid-stage Foundation Building Experts entered the formation, each using their respective access tokens. It was common for there to be a group of demonic cultivators present inside the formation as a routine checkup. They were members of the three major demonic sects.
Though they noticed Aksai sitting in meditation, they didn’t disturb him. Jina had already informed them of his presence and that he was here by invitation of the Black Blood Demon Sect. Out of respect—or perhaps curiosity—they left him to his silence.
Time passed. Minutes turned into hours, and before long, nine hours had slipped by. The sun had already shifted in the sky by the time Jina returned. She approached the barrier, expecting to find Aksai still there, having chosen not to enter the Holy Land Torel.
It wasn’t uncommon for people to turn back, after all. She sighed softly when she saw him sitting there, quietly, and began to step forward to escort him out, thinking he had made his choice.
But just as she was about to enter the formation, she froze. Aksai moved.
In one swift motion, he stood up from his meditative position. Without hesitation, he placed his hand against the wall.
The intricate runes etched into the stone immediately lit up, glowing with a strange aura that pulsed through the air.
Before she could react further, Aksai disappeared. The runes on the wall shimmered for a moment longer, then dimmed back to their usual faint glow.
Jina stood still, staring at the spot where Aksai had vanished. He had entered the Holy Land Torel, the ancient place that had swallowed so many before him.
She let out a long breath, her expression a mix of shock and admiration. Few had the courage to step into the unknown so decisively.
“Well,” Jina murmured to herself, “looks like the boy’s made his choice.”