Do you know, who you truly are?

Do you know, who you truly are?...

The guardian's killing intent intensified, a taut pressure swelling around him. His advance set the golden spear aflame with golden lightning, a bolt of fury surging towards Qin Wentian.

Yet, Qin Wentian's footsteps etched a dance upon the ground, Astral Light gleaming in the runic outlines. From nothingness burst an Azure Dragon, soaring forth to collide with the lightning. Their collision birthed a cacophonous boom, rending the Divine Inscription into shards.

"We nine are the legacy's guardians. The successor, boasting prowess in attainment and combat, may harness runic outlines' power to vanquish us. As for you, adept in the Dao of Divine Inscriptions but frail in cultivation, vying for inheritance is tantamount to suicide."

The guardian's voice dripped with sarcasm, each syllable laced with scorn. His every step exuded an oppressive weight, bearing down upon Qin Wentian. The pressure felt as though his very form would be cleaved by its intensity.

Retreating step by step, Qin Wentian faltered when a gust of wind swept through the hall. More figures emerged, dispersed within its expanse.

The scene saw the arrival of Zhan Chen, Yang Fan, Zhao Lie, Hua Feng, and their retinues. Forging their strengths into an amalgam, they splintered the rampart, surging toward the great hall. Relief flushed their expressions when they discerned that Qin Wentian's party hadn't acquired the inheritance yet.

Zhu Sha's mutilated palms still bore fresh blood, his murderous aura reached the zenith.

Facing the prospect of the inheritance, Qin Wentian appeared unruffled. "Don't tell me you're all so eager to remain within this secret realm?"

Zhu Sha's demeanor wavered, but a golden guardian intervened. "Since you've arrived, you hold the privilege to partake in the final trial for the successor. Overcoming us secures the inheritance, heralding this realm's demise, thus your escape."

Zhu Sha's murderous intent surged upon the guardian's words. His gaze bore an icy edge when he met Qin Wentian's.

Zhan Chen and Yang Fan, however, were fixated on the ancient scrolls cradled by the sculpture. Qin Wentian had nearly evaporated from their thoughts.

Obtaining the Ascendant's inheritance would empower them like tigers sprouting wings. They would stand unchallenged in their sects or clans, their generation's sole chosen.

In each consortium of transcendent powers, several were selected every era. The Heavenly Fate Ranking's elites were not singular in their accomplishments—those before had stood where they now did. By breaching the Heavenly Dipper Realm, the predecessors had established a legacy the present chosen aspired to eclipse.

Emerging talents perennially threatened their dominance.

The Ascendant's inheritance was the paramount opportunity to fortify their primacy. Amidst this scramble, those who claimed it would gain an irreplaceable advantage.

Zhan Chen unsheathed an incisive sword, ablaze with luminescence—a peak-tier third-ranked Divine Weapon.

Yang Fan revealed gauntlets, equally a peak-tier third-ranked Divine Weapon.

Though the Heaven's Chosen lacked a fourth-ranked Divine Weapon, their transcendent powers could boast such treasures.

Being chosen designated them as the future leaders within their sects and clans. This privilege, however, accompanied strict regulations—dependence on Divine Weapons was discouraged. Defensive and escape artifacts were permissible, not offensive ones. It was an incentive for growth, a method to extract their potential. When confronting a superior opponent, they'd at least have a means to flee—a testament to their status.

Their power was bound by their chosen status. Overcoming their counterparts from rival factions would liberate them from these fetters.

The shrill resonance of conflict sliced through the air as the golden guardians braced for battle.

The inheritance rested behind the golden guardians, cradled in the sculpture's grip—accessible only to the capable.

Zhan Chen lunged toward a guardian, his sword a whirling tempest, conjuring a rain of blades to assail his target.

The guardian reacted instantaneously, choreographing intricate maneuvers with its spear. A radiant shield of gold materialized around it, repelling the onslaught. A single thrust pierced the swordstorm.

Yang Fan and the others followed suit. Yang Fan's Star-Seizing Palms, empowered by his formidable gauntlet, churned with destructive energy. Clash after clash echoed as he engaged the guardian's spear.

Meanwhile, Qin Wentian was ensnared in dire straits. A golden guardian appeared fixated on him, relentless in its pursuit of his demise. With Yang Fan engrossed in his bid for the inheritance, Zhu Sha's gaze turned icy, focusing on Qin Wentian. The moment had arrived.

Astral Light shimmered on Zhu Sha's mangled palms as he charged, his palm thrust exploding towards Qin Wentian's back. Qin Wentian's visage paled, another guardian poised to strike him head-on.

"WENTIAN!" Bailu Yi's cry rent the air. Rushing forward, she was hurled aside by Zhu Sha's retaliatory blow. Blood spurted from her lips as the impact expelled her from the great hall.

Her strength was insufficient for this fierce clash within the hall.

Qin Wentian harnessed the intricate runic outlines beneath him, channeling their energy to thwart Zhu Sha's Star-Seizing Palm. Yet, the chasm between their cultivation levels was a gaping ravine. Zhu Sha's assault effortlessly broke through his defense, unleashing a tumultuous surge of blood and qi within him. Qin Wentian's eyes widened; the guardian's spear attack streaked like volatile lightning, cleaving through space with unimaginable speed and irresistible might.

The assault left him defenseless—Qin Wentian couldn't parry such an attack.

"NOOOOOOOOO!" Bailu Yi averted her gaze, unwilling to witness the aftermath. Bailu Jing remained entangled with his own adversary, precluding his intervention.

"Puchi!" The resounding crack hung in the air as the long spear skewered Qin Wentian, withdrawing in the same breath, testifying to its razor-edge sharpness. The impact flung him against the hall's wall, his body wracked with convulsions, his consciousness waning.

"Deserved it," Zhu Sha icily snorted, delivering another palm strike toward Qin Wentian. Bailu Yi, her strength partially recovered from the earlier hit, lunged forward. She interposed herself, shielding Qin Wentian from the blow, only to be hurled backward by the strike's force, crashing into Qin Wentian with a cascade of blood from her lips.

"LITTLE YI!"

Bailu Jing's face blanched, his cry echoing with fury. Yet, in his momentary lapse, a guardian's spear narrowly missed his heart. The guardian's dominance forbade even a fleeting distraction.

Each of the nine golden guardians reigned at the pinnacle of Yuanfu.

The inheritance's attainment was easier to talk of than to achieve.

Zhu Sha's chilling laughter resonated as he observed the unfolding scene. He lunged forth again, intending to eliminate both Qin Wentian and Bailu Yi. However, his advance came to an abrupt halt, a frigid gaze from a guardian pinning him with dread. These guardians sought not merely Qin Wentian's demise but everyone's, sparing only those qualified. If these cultivators failed to measure up, death was their fate.

The guardian's focus shifted, targeting Zhu Sha with an assault that demanded his defense, leaving him oblivious to Qin Wentian's plight.

Amidst the frenetic combat, Bailu Yi found her way to Qin Wentian's side. Her complexion paled as she observed the relentless blood trickling from his wounds. Ripping a fragment of her sleeve, she hastily fashioned a makeshift bandage for his injuries.

"Qin Wentian, wake up!" Bailu Yi's voice quavered as she shook him. "You can't let go now."

Qin Wentian's thoughts were a jumbled mess, his body enduring traumas beyond human capacity. His mind swirled in a haze, drawn inexorably toward the prospect of eternal slumber.

In the periphery of his foggy consciousness, he faintly registered someone calling out to him. The voice, once sharp, now receded like an ebbing tide, plunging him into a world of absolute stillness.

"Am I on the brink of death? I can't accept this fate," he murmured, an acute resistance gripping him. There remained too much unfinished business, too many goals unmet. Dying in this place was inconceivable.

But the precipice of eternal sleep beckoned, almost within reach. Agony surged, weariness consumed him, and the allure of tranquil oblivion proved difficult to resist.

Within his body, the candle's flame endured, ensconced in golden threads that wove a delicate lattice around it.

In that moment, his waning consciousness gravitated toward the flickering flame. A disconcerting realization emerged—the candle's luminance waned, its brilliance dimmed. His awareness ebbed.

Was this his death knell?

Throughout his arduous journey in cultivation, danger was his constant companion, and he had defied the odds time and again. Yet here he stood, denied by golden guardians, deemed an unworthy successor. Such judgment was unbearable.

Why was he deemed unqualified? Just because his path to cultivation began later, resulting in a humbler cultivation base?

The candle flame persisted, its brilliance enfolded by the potency of his lineage. Even his primal, ferocious ancestry appeared to diminish in vigor.

Within the flickering embrace of the candle's light, a familiar figure coalesced. "Uncle Black," Qin Wentian breathed, his heart surging.

"Wentian," a voice resonated within him.

"Can't... can't die here?" Countless memories surged, galvanizing Qin Wentian's resolve to endure.

Where had Uncle Black vanished to? Was Qingcheng safe at the Pill Emperor Hall? Headmaster Diyi remained imprisoned in the Nine Mystical Palace, while the 'hidden' branch of the Azure Faction had yet to regain its former prestige. Could he truly perish in this place?

The fading candle flame paused, then flared brilliantly, incandescent like never before. Threads of golden energy—the essence of his bloodline—melded with the flame, igniting a radiance that blazed brighter with each moment. A heartbeat later, Qin Wentian's spirit ignited, a blazing inferno within.

"AWOOO!" The resonance of his blood pulsed, unleashing a seismic, guttural force. His lineage, ancient and primal, hailed from an era beyond reckoning.

Yet what shocked him was the form taking shape amid the candle's fiery dance. A colossal primordial beast emerged, its bearing one of disdain for all beneath the heavens.

Qin Wentian quaked. Why did his lineage exude such immense might? And why did his formidable bloodline seem to cower before the candle flame that danced in his heart?

"Do you know who you are?"

The query echoed within him. Did he, Qin Wentian, comprehend his true identity?

The golden guardian's declaration resonated—was he truly unworthy to inherit?

In that case, he would test whether this Ascendant's legacy truly had the authority to pronounce him as such.

The candle flame blazed fiercer, knitting his wounds back together.

While it endured, death remained distant.

The golden threads encompassing the flame converged into a lightning bolt, streaking toward the middle of Qin Wentian's forehead. An awakening of sorts was on the horizon—a third eye on the verge of materializing!