LOST CULTIVATION METHODS

The dragon inheritance realm pulsed with fading light.

The glowing rivers dimmed. The floating islands began to crumble, like aged leaves disintegrating in the wind.

Jin stood motionless, breathing slowly.

He could still feel it the raw storm of power surging in his blood. Dragon runes occasionally shimmered across his skin before fading.

The new skill [Dragon Soul Resonance] hovered just out of reach, waiting to be awakened in full.

The trial was over.

But the weight of its gift remained.

"Is it done?" Lana asked softly, watching the last translucent dragon spiral into mist.

Jin nodded. "The legacy is complete. What remains now… is mine to shape."

Behind him, the platform where he had collapsed earlier cracked open with a low groan, revealing a final reward—a dark silver orb the size of a heart, suspended in liquid starlight.

[Reward: Dragon Core Fragment – Acquired]

He took it, and it melted into his chest.

Another rush of energy surged, and for a moment, his body nearly buckled. His skin burned. His bones creaked.

But he held firm.

When the light finally dimmed, the walls of the cavern began to tremble. The entire chamber shuddered like an ancient creature taking its final breath.

"We have to go!" Arielle shouted, grabbing Sarah's hand.

The four ran, with Jin in the rear. Every step for him felt like dragging mountains, but his will refused to let him fall behind.

As they exited through the glowing corridor they had entered from, the massive stone doors began to lower, sealing the place forever.

Just as the final crack of light vanished, Jin looked back once at the ruins of the dragon clan, the echoes of a legacy reborn through him.

Then darkness swallowed the realm.

And it was gone.

The journey southward took time.

The path from the dragon inheritance site to the land promised by Jin's father wasn't marked on most maps. It lay deep in the borderlands, a stretch of forgotten territory where few dared to tread.

For half a month, the group traveled on foot and by spirit beast, crossing hills, ravines, and forests where qi was thin and wild.

Jin didn't train much during the journey he couldn't. The sheer density of his power made even basic movement exhausting. His muscles constantly ached. Sometimes just sitting down caused the ground to crack beneath him.

Arielle and Sarah noticed the toll it was taking on him, and so the three women took turns carrying more supplies, setting up camp, and warding off weaker spirit beasts.

Jin felt humbled—but never ashamed.

He had walked the path of rebirth, and he would earn every step of strength.

They arrived as the sun dipped over the horizon, casting long shadows over the forgotten land.

What lay before them wasn't a field or a village.

It was a scar.

A broken land of ash-gray soil and gnarled roots.

Barren.

Silent.

Only wind moved here, dry and hollow like the breath of the dead.

"Is… this it?" Sarah asked, stepping forward slowly.

A crumbling stone road stretched ahead. The cracked signpost read:

"Valeria" Land of Thorns and Flame.

Arielle squinted. "I remember this name. This city was… one of the last lines of defense during the Great Beast Horde siege years ago."

Lana nodded grimly. "My kingdom sent troops here. Few returned."

They walked in silence down the old road, broken flagstones crunching beneath their boots.

The city's bones lay scattered—walls crumbled inward, guard towers shattered. Trees grew through stone.

Half-buried armor and rusted blades littered the outskirts, remnants of a desperate final stand.

But within it all, at the heart of this forgotten place, stood a manor.

And what a tragic sight it was.

The manor had once been grand.

Its twin wings arched outward like open arms, surrounding a courtyard that now lay blanketed in weeds and cracked tiles.

Statues of warriors and dragons lined the perimeter—but most were broken at the neck or missing limbs.

Vines crawled up the outer walls like scars, wrapping around collapsed balconies and sunken awnings.

The main doors, once polished mahogany, now hung ajar.

One was split down the middle; the other bore claw marks the size of a man's head.

Inside, dust ruled.

Paintings had faded to gray smudges.

The grand chandelier in the main hall had fallen, its crystals shattered across the cracked marble floor.

Long hallways stretched into gloom, their silence broken only by creaking wood and the flutter of birds nesting in the rafters.

The roof leaked in places, and a tree had somehow taken root through the western chamber, its branches clawing through the rafters like fingers of nature reclaiming its due.

Yet… not all was lost.

The foundations remained solid. The walls, though stained and chipped, still stood with dignity. The core structure of the manor—its inner pillars, protective arrays etched faintly into the stone—remained intact.

Lana stepped forward, running her fingers along one of the support beams.

"It's damaged. But not broken."

"We can fix this," Arielle said, brushing dust off a toppled table.

Sarah grinned and kicked at a rat that scurried by. "Once we chase out the rodents and ghosts, anyway."

Jin stood in the ruined courtyard, silent.

Here, in this half-dead place forgotten by the kingdom and left to rot under history's weight—he felt something stir.

Not despair.

But purpose.

This land was like him—discarded, overlooked, left to die.

And just like him… it would rise again.

That night, they lit a fire in the central hall.

The smoke escaped through broken slats in the roof. They huddled together, sharing dried meat and boiled herbs from Sarah's pouch.

Jin sat quietly, his aura suppressed, his limbs still heavy with dense power.

But something about this place—its silence, its stubbornness, its survival—resonated with his soul.

Lana leaned against him. "We can rebuild. We will."

Arielle nodded. "It won't be easy. But nothing about your path has been."

Sarah tilted her head. "Maybe this was never just a ruin. Maybe it's waiting for the right hands to restore it."

Jin looked into the fire, golden and fierce.

"Yes," he said. "We'll make this our home. Our fortress."

A place to grow.

A place to rise.

A place to prepare.

Because he knew now—fate had not forgotten him.

And soon, the world wouldn't either.