Two light balls floated in front of Ray. One was as big as the sun and the other a tiny moth. And that was it. Nothing else was there.

Where should he go now? Even if they didn’t bother to assign some personnel to escort the dead souls, they should at least put some signposts, right?

He stood there and waited, hoping someone would come to send him off to his next life. None came.

After what seemed like an eternity, Ray came to a painful conclusion that no one was coming. He gazed at the two light balls in front of him. Perhaps, they could guide him?

He mulled over it for a while and extended his hand to touch the small moth-sized light ball. The big one was quite intimidating; the small one seemed pretty safe.

The small light ball wobbled at his touch. The next moment, it swooshed and darted to the center of his forehead.

Ray’s eyes widened. His hands went up to hold his head. A terrible headache assaulted him. He sprawled on the ground.

It was like someone hammering his brain, like some external matter invading his brain through a hole dug in his brain.

Wasn’t he not supposed to feel senses? Or was this the punishment for the sins he had committed in his previous life?

Then he saw something else. He saw a child born in a decent house, his harsh upbringing, him becoming a youngster with wild ambitions, joining Blood Gate…

It was like he was reading a flipbook of someone’s life. But each page in the book was branded onto his soul. He couldn’t forget it even if he wanted to.

Then by the end… he saw Eiran Leopold, saw Dada, saw how they tortured and killed Dada.

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Ray’s eyes became red with molten rage.

And finally, he saw the youngster tailing Ray… and his death by the hands of the old ghost.

Ray froze. It took a while to absorb it all. But he understood: the tiny light ball had been the memories of the red-robed youngster.

What was going on? Were those light balls not there to guide him to his next life? Were they memories? Then that gigantic light ball, whose memories were those?

Flickering of the torch fire dragged him out of his revery. To his vast dismay, he was no longer in the dark space which he believed the world of the dead souls.

Ray turned his head to look at the familiar cave: the altar, blood pool, and the dwindling torch fire.

Rocky bottom beneath him was uncomfortably hard and uneven. Ray stirred to stand up.

He could feel his senses now: he was not dead!

Ray didn’t believe that the old ghost suddenly grew kindhearted enough to let a perfect opportunity to possession go after lurking in these damnable mountains for god knows how long. He couldn’t wrap his head around what bizarre things could possibly happen after he closed his eyes that led to such an outcome.

But he knew he lived. And that old ghost most likely was dead. That giant light ball had to be the old ghost’s memory.

He suddenly felt a pang of regret. Had he touched the giant light ball, would he have gotten the old ghost’s memories?

That’s the knowledge of an ancient old monster. Imagining all the cultivation knowledge, techniques, experiences he could’ve gotten, his liver ached in regret.

The sea of honey had presented itself before him, but he went for a spoonful sugar instead. How ignorant could he be?

Nonetheless, he lived. And he knew the problem with his spirit and the solution to it now. He could grow stronger in this life too. He thanked the saints for it.

Ray stood in front of the altar. He hadn’t paid much attention to the things here when he came. But the old ghost called them treasures. They must be extremely precious.

The scroll seemed to be made out of beast skin. When he unfurled it, he was puzzled to see nothing. But he didn’t really believe there was nothing. From the books he read, he knew there were different methods to activate different treasures.

He turned his attention to the porcelain visard. Two sides of the face were depicted on the visard. Painted in white, the left side of the face wore a genial smile and the right side of the face, painted in black, donned an eery smile.

When he held it in his hands, the colors on the visard began to swirl and slowly, a new face emerged. His face!

Ray jumped in fright. What the hell is this?

He put it on the altar right away. Holding his own face in his own hands like that grossed him out.

Out of the three treasures here, he couldn’t recognize the abilities of two. Despondently, he reached the golden blood pool. Of the three things he had seen, he only recognized this blood pool. It was also the most helpful treasure at the moment.

It was a blood quenching pool which only lordlings of the affluent families could afford. Judging from rich golden color, Ray reckoned it might be of the best grade of all blood quenching pools.

It might not help him cultivate right away, but it would improve his psyche tremendously.

Excited and expectant, Ray jumped into the golden blood pool.