An empty throne stood in the grandest palace of the human race. The King had passed away, and the sole heir to the throne was nowhere to be found.

Numerous experts had been dispatched in search of the missing heir, with a staggering reward of billions offered for any information. Despite the passing years, there had been no trace of the prince. The Arch Bishops confirmed that the boy was still alive, affirming that only he had the right to occupy the throne.

"I wish I could pretend to be him."

"Damn it! Who do you think you are? How could anyone mistake your face for that of a divine being?"

"Well, at least I look better than you."

"Hey, did you hear about what happened this week? The four religions sent five Arch Bishops to locate the prince. It seems they can no longer wait to crown him."

"Damn! Why is this guy running away from his fortune? He should just accept the throne and be done with it. This situation is becoming tiresome."

Abdin sat quietly in a corner of the restaurant, eavesdropping on the conversation among the patrons. Contrary to people's expectations, he would meet his demise if he were to return home. The palace had never intended to grant him the throne. Instead, they had driven him away and compelled him to alter his appearance. He had assumed different identities for so long that even he was beginning to forget his true features.

However, there was an opportunity now to change everything.

By cultivating to 100,000 years, he could reclaim his identity and seize back the throne, made possible by the castle he possessed. Once the ultimate bloodline skill was activated, he would overthrow the palace.

His concern lay in the potential alliance between the religions and the palace, as both factions sought his life. It had been fortunate enough that he had eluded one group for this long.

He had to expedite his plans. With five Arch Bishops relentlessly pursuing him, he could no longer afford any further delays.

Suddenly, the bartender ordered a new depiction of the 'missing' prince to be displayed on the walls. The reward for any valuable information about the prince was increased to ten billion.

Abdin finished his drink and gazed at the image on the wall. It portrayed a handsome, young man with dark eyes and skin. The most striking feature was his curly, white hair that captivated everyone's attention.

Sigh.

He departed the restaurant in silence, contemplating the fact that whoever had drawn that picture must have been aware of his disguises. He had left a similar drawing of himself back in the palace.

Guided by the cover of darkness, he stealthily made his way out of the city. It took him three hours of riding before he reached the neighboring forest.

Spending another hour on preparations, he set up a one-way transportation array that could only be used once. He activated it and transported himself to his intended destination: a dense forest situated on the border of two empires.

Walking into the forest, he periodically paused to assess his surroundings. By the following morning, he had already reached the heart of the forest.

From his bag, he retrieved three human faces and tossed them into the air, reciting incantations as he did so. The three faces glowed and floated in the air.

"He's here to change his appearance once again."

"I bet he'll choose the wrong face."

"What else can we expect?"

The faces, belonging to a teenage boy, a middle-aged man, and a beautiful woman in her twenties, conversed about Abdin as if he wasn't present.

Abdin gritted his teeth and remained motionless, struggling to suppress his emotions. His knees grew weak, and a numbness overcame the soles of his feet. This had become an all-too-familiar occurrence, to the point where even the faces mocked him.

Slowly and weakly, he reached out and grabbed the face of the middle-aged man. The other two faces scowled and vanished.

Pausing for a moment, he steeled himself and placed the face over his own. In an instant, a flash of light enveloped him, causing his face to sprout a beard and transform into that of a middle-aged man. His dark hair turned brown, and his eyebrows took on an unattractive C-shape. His attire morphed into a dark, ancient robe. Only the surrounding forest appeared gloomier than his countenance.

Casting a glance at the forest, which would now become his new home, he saw a dark and forsaken landscape. The air was damp, carrying the scent of decaying wood. There was no presence of spiritual energy, and compared to this desolate place, his hometown seemed like paradise.

A long sigh of suffering escaped his lips. He retrieved a mirror from his bag and scrutinized his appearance, confirming that he was no longer recognizable as his former self.

Drawing a deep breath, he took a greenish seed from his bag and held it in his hands. Reciting the necessary incantations silently, he threw the seed into the air. It brightened briefly before disappearing.

[You have created a new save point. Any death will return you to this moment. The cost will depend on the circumstances of your demise.]

After waiting for a few minutes, the middle-aged man proceeded to the heart of the forest. He carved a seal into the decaying ground and infused it with his power.

The seal darkened and vanished, replaced by a miniature holographic castle. Gradually, the castle expanded until it covered the heart of the forest. The transformation from holograph to solid structure occurred seamlessly, without raising a speck of dust. From an aerial perspective, it appeared as if the heart of the forest had been excised and replaced by the diminutive castle.

This marked the fourth time he had attempted to use the castle to elevate his cultivation, and yet again, he had failed. However, this time was different; he was prepared.

Retrieving a paper seal from his bag, he activated it using his power. Dark mist emanated from the seal, surrounding the castle. Within minutes, the castle vanished into the mist.

Abdin pushed open the gate and entered the castle, making sure to close the gate behind him. He briefly inspected a few buildings before returning to the nearest one to the gate and isolating himself inside.

It was already half past two in the evening. If everything went according to plan, his first guests would be arriving within the next five to six hours.

Activating his spiritual sense, he probed the spirit ki surrounding him. The ki within the castle was dense and pure, several times more concentrated than the ambient ki found on the continent. It was the purest form he had ever encountered.

Determined not to waste any more time, he settled into a cross-legged position, drawing in the energy and allowing it to flow into his core. The spirit ki would remain within his core for a while before circulating through his body. He felt his strength being restored as weariness accumulated over the months dissipated.

An hour later, he opened his eyes, their silver brilliance shining brightly. Raising a hand, he summoned an F-rank lightning bolt.

In an instant, the room was enveloped in clouds and sparks of thunder. The oil lamp flickered, its light dimming, while the sparks from the bolt illuminated the surroundings. The temperature in the room rose significantly, yet there was no smoke.

Abdin nodded with satisfaction. His body had regained some strength, and he was now comparable to the 9th stage of ki condensation.

Closing his eyes once again, he continued to breathe in the spirit ki. The energy he gathered churned within his core, growing brighter. It was enough to cultivate the equivalent of one year's worth of lifespan. Even for those with seemingly boundless resources, cultivating a year's worth of pol could take up to five or six months. However, he had accomplished this task in just two hours.

Remaining still, he allowed the energy to condense further.

As the brightness dimmed, a small white stone resembling a finger emerged. This new stone joined the other eighty-eight stones already present in his core. However, unlike the dull and withered appearance of the existing stones, this one was bright.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

[You have cultivated a year of pol. Your cultivation has increased to 89 years. It now remains one year and six months until your death.]

He waited for the energy in the room to stabilize before adjusting his posture and entering into meditation once more.

Four hours later, his soul disc glowed once again.

[You have cultivated a year of pol. Your cultivation has risen to 90 years. It now remains two years and six months until your death.]

With each year he cultivated, the energy required to cultivate the subsequent year increased. For example, the first year took him an hour, while the second year required four hours.

Initially, raising his cultivation had been a straightforward task when he first obtained the castle. However, the castle brought its own set of problems. It also had the unfortunate habit of consuming people.

During his last usage of the castle, it claimed the lives of 140,321 men, most of whom were servants of the Four Religions. Since no one would ever suspect a castle of murder, Abdin was blamed for the incident.

Consequently, he had to flee his previous residence. Additionally, the five archbishops of the Four Religions had been pursuing him for the alleged crime of killing all those people and "using their souls for his evil cultivation." As a result, none of the empires or cultivation sects were willing to offer him refuge. He had to seek shelter in this forgotten corner of the world and hide.

But now, he was ready to fight back.

The first phase of his plan involved exerting control over the entire continent and attaining a cultivation level of at least 30,000 years. This would necessitate expanding the castle's influence and subjugating all five empires present on the continent. With an entire continent under his command, even the Four Religions would think twice before attempting to pursue him.

However, the five empires he targeted were part of an empire system and were safeguarded by a formidable level 6 empire. If he were to launch a direct assault, the level 6 empire would undoubtedly retaliate, leading to a situation reminiscent of the conflict with the Four Religions. He would likely be compelled to assume a different identity and flee once again.

Hence, he needed allies. This is where his plan to invite a specific group of cultivators into the castle came into play. Convincing them to become his servants was crucial for the success of his strategy. These cultivators were known for their pride, but he had a plan in place. While the likelihood of them accepting his invitation was high, if they were to refuse, he couldn't afford to let them leave and reveal the existence of a magnificent castle brimming with spirit ki in the middle of nowhere.

It was already six in the evening, and these individuals should have arrived nearby by now. Leaving the room, he ascended a staircase to the top of the castle walls. From there, he could see the mountains situated up to ten kilometers away, but there was no sign of his guests. This puzzled him, prompting him to check his watch once again. Given their position when he last observed them, they should have almost arrived.

The mist surrounding the castle possessed magical properties. Those outside the castle could only perceive the mist; they couldn't see Abdin or the castle itself until they approached closely. However, those within the castle had clear visibility, unaffected by the mist.

"Perhaps they didn't notice the mist," Abdin pondered.

Finding a suitable spot, he sat down and kept a watchful eye on the various paths leading to the castle. After two more hours of silence, his brow furrowed with concern.

In addition to concealing the castle, the mist served another purpose: attracting the attention of this group of cultivators. It was possible that the mist failed to reach them, or some unforeseen circumstances had caused them to deviate from their intended route.

Just as he contemplated this, he caught sight of a group of riders and a cart emerging from behind one of the smaller mountains.

A smile brightened his face. The initial phase of his plan had succeeded. Leveraging the connections these cultivators had throughout the continent would significantly facilitate his conquest of the empires. All he needed to do was persuade these century-old men to set aside their pride and serve as his loyal subjects for the next several years.

Descending from the wall, he returned to his room and lay down.

It didn't take long before he heard the sound of weapons striking against the castle gates. Echoing alongside the banging was the sound of joyful laughter.

Abdin activated the skill [chameleon] and became invisible before proceeding towards the gate.

A thunderous noise pierced his ears as a rock struck the gate in an attempt to force it open. Abdin maneuvered ahead, circled around, and returned to the staircase, ascending the wall once again.

The wall's height was nearly fifteen meters, providing ample space for five rows of soldiers to gather comfortably. It was also fortified from the sides.

There were several built-in ladders affixed to the wall. Every time Abdin examined them, he couldn't help but wonder about the original inhabitants of the castle. Were they so short that they required ladders to reach the top of the wall? Abdin himself stood at a height of no more than 1.7 meters, yet he could see the top of the wall beyond the ladders.

Shaking his head, he dismissed the thought. There were more pressing matters at hand, people who required his attention.

Finding a suitable vantage point, he observed them closely. They were exactly as he had anticipated. Eight riders without armor, with one rider wearing a worn-out chest piece. Accompanying them was a cart filled with slaves.

Three of the riders had dismounted and were attempting to breach the castle gates. Their efforts to break the gates by throwing stones and hacking with swords proved futile, so they resorted to using pol. Though it would come at a cost, even in the short term, they gritted their teeth and persisted.

Two of them unleashed shapeless wind blades, while the other wielded a ball of flame. Yet, the door remained unharmed.

[You have guests. Invite them into the castle and earn at least 10 years.]

Abdin had planned to reveal himself when something suddenly caught his attention on the cart. A fair-skinned girl on the cart was staring at him intently. Initially, he assumed she was admiring the architecture, as she couldn't possibly see an invisible person. However, her expressions kept changing, and she refused to divert her gaze from him.

Using his spiritual sense, he scanned her. She appeared ordinary with no cultivation whatsoever. She must be a common slave girl. But how could a slave who hadn't awakened her pol perceive his presence? Was there something unique about her? Despite the defiance in her eyes, there was also a visible fear, likely the result of being subjected to abuse by her owners.

Letting out a small sigh, Abdin realized that his plans didn't involve her, so he chose to ignore her for the time being. As a small gesture, he attached a simple strand of spiritual essence to the girl before turning his attention back to his guests.

They all wore similar attire, albeit with subtle differences. The fabric of their clothing was worn, and they didn't resemble members of the royal army, which had been their intended disguise.

Among them, one individual wearing a chest piece stood at the center, protected by the others on the sides. The rest made a feeble attempt to avert their gazes and pretend indifference towards the armored rider, but their facade was transparent to anyone observant.

Abdin focused his attention on the chest piece. It was flat and covered the entire chest, making it apparent that the person was male. However, Abdin knew that the wearer was actually female. Her name was Juwaira. The young woman had concealed her face with a white kerchief and had gone to great lengths by dressing in men's attire, ensuring that every inch of her skin was covered. Convincing her to reveal her face would prove to be a challenge.

Abdin deactivated his invisibility skill and materialized on the wall, emitting a loud snort.

The riders turned around, and upon locking eyes with Abdin, took several steps back. The three men who had been attempting to breach the gate swiftly mounted their horses and assumed a defensive posture.

Three men positioned themselves at the front, four at the center, and three at the back. Juwaira found herself in the midst of the four individuals at the center, who shielded her protectively. The three men at the front and those at the back drew their swords and aimed them at Abdin.

However, Abdin simply waved at them in a welcoming manner.

"Explain yourselves," he said, gesturing towards the gate they had been attempting to breach.

"You... own this castle?" blurted out an elderly man from the front line. He leaned forward slightly and glanced behind Abdin, searching for any additional presence.

"You haven't answered my question," Abdin replied.

The man furrowed his brow. His spiritual sense briefly swept over Abdin before dissipating. His expression changed immediately, and he smiled, clearly sensing that Abdin's cultivation surpassed his own. Despite suppressing his own cultivation by over 80%, Abdin might be employing a similar tactic. The man decided to lower his head and enter the castle first. Once inside, he would determine how to deal with the ignorant fool who dared to challenge him.

"Fellow Daoist, I am Denyanu," the man introduced himself, gesturing towards the others. "These are my kinsmen. We happened to pass by this place around the same time last year, and this old man's poor eyes couldn't perceive this castle at all. There was no mention of it in the villages we traveled through. It appears almost like a treasure descending from above, or perhaps an ancestral treasury finally revealing itself after being hidden for so long. That's why we were attempting to enter, to see if there is anything salvageable that we could bring back home."

Denyanu intended to convey that their actions stemmed from ignorance. If they had known that Abdin was inside, they would not have acted as they did.

These men were the first to visit, but they certainly wouldn't be the last. Abdin would be fortunate if occasional visitors were the extent of it. Once news of the castle spread, the number of visitors would undoubtedly increase.

This was precisely what had occurred in the previous empire Abdin had visited. It was why he meticulously planned everything this time, from the individuals standing before him to the nearest village and cultivation sect. Abdin had already calculated every aspect. He was not going to wait to be attacked again.

In the world of cultivation, nefarious individuals were abundant, and the law of the jungle prevailed. Any valuable treasure you possessed became a magnet for trouble as soon as people became aware of it. Your only options were to fight or relinquish the treasure.

The castle was an ancient treasure of the highest known rank, some even regarding it as divine. Abdin was well aware of what would transpire once people discovered it.

"I will forgive you just this once, but anyone who attempts to trespass again..." Abdin uttered a wicked grin, leaving the sentence unfinished, before dismissing the men with a wave of his hand.

Denyanu hesitated momentarily, but he bravely held his ground. "Isn't fellow Daoist going to invite this old man into his blessed castle? I promise we will give you forty percent of our loot if you let us in."

Abdin knew they would not simply depart. He rolled his eyes in response, opting not to reply.

Denyanu mistakenly assumed that Abdin's disapproval was related to the proposed share. "Sixty percent. We will give you 60%."