Elissa quietly pondered Yulia's prophecy, which echoed in her mind: "A young man with black hair will be my undoing." She had returned to her apartment in H.E.R.O's tower, the weight of uncertainty settling on her shoulders.

As she strolled past her living room, questions swirled within her mind. "Could it be Al? Was choosing him as a disciple the wrong choice?" The living room's ambiance, meticulously styled to mimic the Victorian homes of her upbringing, offered no solace.

Elissa entered her bedroom, a stark contrast to the ornate living space. Her bedroom stood barren, devoid of personal touches—a plain cubic chamber.

Elissa stepped into the center, a silent directive escaping her lips, "Close the door." The door slowly sealed itself behind her, plunging the room into a deep darkness.

The conditions were perfect for a cultivator rooted in the material plane like Elissa, yet they held no relevance for her. Her Reflexive Will was the peak of the Spirit Domain. Instead, she focused on understanding the 48 Laws within the Mortal Chasm.

Elissa sat down in the center of the room to meditate. However, Yulia's prophecy persisted, forcing Elissa to reflect on the past.

Her mind retraced the doubts and misguided advice she had encountered. "I ascended to the Upper Trigram of the Spirit Domain in just 220 years. Among all the Mortal Seeds, no other second in command matches their captain in cultivation and strength like I do," Elissa reminisced.

Despite only having a common Will, Elissa was unlike any other cultivator with a Reflexive Will. She captured the attention of Superior Immortal King Godfrey when she almost won her Mortal Ring Tournament. Her name had become a whispered current, coursing through the Mortal Seeds.

"Unfortunately, my cultivation talent doesn't extend to the Mortal Laws," she lamented aloud, her words hanging in the dark silence, echoing her inner turmoil. Her mind wandered back to Al.

She recalled their conversation in the Arabian desert, "I don't think I made the wrong choice," she whispered, her voice reassuring. Raising her left hand in the room's darkness, she placed it over the cold armor encasing her chest.

"I can feel it in my heart—Al will be a great student," Elissa affirmed her decision in the privacy of the darkness. Yet, as her thoughts remained on Yulia's prophecy, she couldn't help but wonder about the figure it alluded to.

***

On the 12th floor was the cultivation room Robert had designed. Al was currently seated inside, sweating profusely. Each breath produced ten times more Heat Will than a breath outside.

Instead of waiting 23 years to break into the Mental Domain of the Mortal Chasm, the room reduced the cultivation time to 6 months by refining the atmosphere.

"This flood of energy might overwhelm my body if it weren't for my Stubborn Will," Al reflected, beads of sweat evaporating under the heat. To prevent his Heat Will from cooking his insides, he had to flow his Stubborn Will into his organs and brain constantly.

Inside the cultivation room, devoid of clocks and adorned only with plain steel and a wooden bench, the low glow of the ceiling light added to Al's heat. His entire being focused solely on maintaining the rhythm of his breath and the meticulous rotation of his Heat Will from his A.R.C. to his skin.

The hours turned to weeks, and eventually, a month passed, but in the room, time crawled at an agonizing pace as Al's existence became a singular dedication to the present moment.

His Heat Will, once a thin film delicately coating his skin, transformed into a dense layer, seeping into the core of his being.

"Incredible. I'm already reaching the Upper Trigram of the Physical Domain," Al shouted in his head, opening his eyes to a body no longer drenched in constant perspiration. His physical body had acclimated to the elevated temperatures; the necessity for his Stubborn Will to radiate had dissipated.

A sense of accomplishment washed over him, and a wry smile curled on Al's lips. "I'm not sure any other cultivator with a single Will could have breezed through the initial hurdle so effortlessly. Flooding the body with such intense Will, reckless as always, Robert," Al surmised with a wide grin, a mix of pride and amusement twirling in his eyes.

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***

While Al and Elissa settled in the center of New Ark City, far away in a hidden cave, a black cauldron simmered with a red liquid. Within the liquid, an ethereal scene unfolded—a room materialized, revealing the office of A.R.M. on the pinnacle floor of H.E.R.O.'s Tower.

Standing beside the cauldron was a woman of striking beauty with emerald-like eyes that radiated brilliance. Alongside her knelt a sharp-featured middle-aged man sporting a goatee. It was Lapaptzli and Ragjiel.

They focused on a young man with black hair shrouded in a dark robe.

"The boy we sold to the Rakh-ahtan is still alive. He arrived with a cultivator named Elissa from the Supreme Leaf," the young man explained calmly and composedly.

A smile played on Lapaptzli's lips. "Master, I told you he was special," she affirmed, memories of her time with Al resurfacing. She had tried her best to break his Will and kill him.

Addressing Lapaptzli's observation, the young man responded, "No, he's lost the etheric shell that made him so interesting. I truly can't fathom why the Rakh-ahtan would allow him to live."

His gaze briefly wandered toward the black cauldron, contemplating the potential reason.

Ragjiel was also aware of whom his teacher was referring to and recalled his history with the two cultivators. Elissa had reduced him to his Immortal Spirit and then imprisoned him in a crystal.

By some miracle, his teacher Taczlopilac, disguised as a young alchemist named Carlinn in New Ark City, randomly ran into Elissa.

After Taczlopalic, disguised as Carlinn, sensed the Will of his student Ragjiel, he followed Al and Elissa into an elevator. Without two noticing, Carlinn had stolen the crystal Ragjiel was in.

Beyond merely saving him, Carlinn ordered Lapaptzli to recreate Ragjiel's physical form.

In Ragjiel's mind, Taczlopalic/Carlinn was not just his teacher but his savior, a god of revival and liberation.

Carlinn's eyes turned towards Ragjiel, who knelt in a display of reverence. His gaze then moved to Lapaptzli, whose green eyes seemed to glow even in the darkness. He noticed her lost in the recesses of her mind.

Raising his voice, Carlinn spoke, commanding both pupils' full attention. "That little cockroach is in New Ark City, under the delusion that I'm hiding there in disguise. I have no idea how he arrived at such a conclusion, but he's a moron, incapable of accomplishing anything. My plan should still proceed without a flaw." Confidence laced his words.

Carlinn focused on Lapaptzli, who raised her eyebrows in amusement, awaiting his command.

"Lapaptzli, head to the East. Force the Rakh-ahtan to make their move and initiate an attack on New Ark City. We will reunite in five months," Carlinn ordered, his voice calm and composed, unlike the grinding gravel that once was his voice.

Having received her instructions, Lapaptzli licked her lips in anticipation and gracefully exited the cave.

Left alone with Ragjiel in the cave, Carlinn outlined the next steps. "Ragjiel, you will head West. I have other enlightened students in the caves along the Grand Canyon. You will meet with them. They should have a decent number of Hybrids and Dark Acolytes under their command."Carlinn paused, walking slowly toward the kneeling Ragjiel.

Placing a reassuring hand on Ragjiel's shoulder, Carlinn gestured for him to stand, and Ragjiel followed the guidance of his savior, rising on both legs.

A warm smile adorned Carlinn's face as he looked into Ragjiel's faithful eyes and continued, "Together with them, you will draw the attention of the Church of New Light. Lead the church on a path that draws them to the Western wall of New Ark City. The assault will commence in five months."

Ragjiel absorbed the instructions with profound reverence. "Yes, Master. This grateful student of yours will fulfill your words to the letter." After bowing to Carlinn, Ragjiel exited the cave, leaving Carlinn alone with the black cauldron.

"New Ark City will soon fracture, and I will have it in my hands. After merging my soul with A.R.M., the God Chasm will no longer be a problem," Carlinn thoroughly contemplated, his face stained with a smirk. The end to a very long wait was finally within view. He had been patient for far too long.

As he approached the cauldron, the red liquid within it began to boil, disrupting the reflected image of A.R.M.'s office.

With a wave of his hand, Carlinn quelled the turbulence, changing the reflected image. The red liquid reflected a scholar's room adorned with books, glass bottles, and beakers.

In a seamless motion, he lifted his left leg and submerged it into the red liquid of the black cauldron, followed by the rest of his body.

He vanished. Simultaneously, the red liquid in the cauldron resumed boiling, blurring the reflected image.

When it settled, it mirrored only the unremarkable ceiling of the cave.