The patriarch meditated in a lotus position.

His eyes were closed, and his expression was solemn as he began to perceive his aura.

The aura outside his body, was rich and dense, it had an intoxicating scent.

If he was not constantly restraining this power, everyone around him would get poisoned by it.

The patriarch felt a mild discomfort while perceiving his QI, he began to mold it and circulate it around his body.

Until suddenly, one of the veins on his lungs was obstructed by a tiny pebble.

A massive pain spread through his body, he twisted his back under the pain.

"I guess it was just a matter of time." The patriarch sighed.

Then, he raised his head and looked a the nearby rivers.

"My body is like an old boat filled with tiny holes and cracks.

The cracks may be few, however the more water crosses through them, the more they widen.

With every little of water that enters the boat, it's density rises, until eventually the ship sinks.

The only way to prevent this would be to return to the surface.

Or in my case, to stop Cultivating."

That was very difficult.

Generally, when a Cultivator said this, they did not only meant to stop their active practice, but also to change completely their habits.

They would change their rich Qi foods, to something more manageable, they would move to places with a very different Qi composition, they would exhale the Qi outside their bodies, they would use materials to heal their damaged bodies, meditate, rest, etcetera.

That required a shift on mentality, as well as on habits, it was basically like taking a vacation.

This may be fine for people on lower Cultivation Realms, but to someone on his position it was impossible.

Moreover, Void Cultivators also had another peculiarity.

There was an aura constantly surrounding them, that fulfilled many purposes.

The aura gave them an enhanced perception and intuition regarding the Dao, protected them against sneak attacks, made them think faster, healed them, provided them with Qi, among other functions.

If this aura was ever lost, decreased in size, or became unstable, their Cultivation would degrade.

...

"This aura I have, would normally be a blessing if I was strong enough to hold it.

But every time my aura cycles, my weaker cells are broken down beyond repair, and while yes, they get replaced by newer ones, they do not recover at the same rate, as I lose them, my body is basically eroding itself to death.

Even though I know this, I cannot stop.

If I ever do, the Shiyan Clan would destroy us.

Currently they do not have only two, but three Void Cultivators, whilst the Bing Clan only has me.

The only deterrent we have, is that I have a greater Cultivation Stage."

He frowned lightly.

"No, that is not the full truth.

My current Realm may be greater, but if the three of them stuck at once, I would obviously get defeated.

Yes, if we engaged in war again, they would suffer huge losses, but nothing that they cannot recover from.

The reason why they have not attacked us is simple, because they're waiting until I either die of old age, or that I kill myself.

They know that I am getting older, and that my only hope of beating them is to bet it all on reaching the 4th Stage of the Void Realm.

I know that they want me to foolishly kill myself on a desperate attempt of a breakthrough...

I know that.

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But that is our only hope..."

He felt helpless, desperate, but more than that...

He felt lonely.

"If only there was someone who could take this burden..." The patriarch whispered.

But soon, he shook his head, and gritted his teeth, rejecting that idea.

"NO!" He roared.

Many emotions appeared on his face, until his expression gradually softened.

"I may be a good soldier, I may be a good commander, but I am not fit to find a successor, as I am too biased.

I ignored the warnings of my counsellors, I ignored all the evidence, until it was too late.

How can someone like me guide a successor?"

There was a bitter taste on his mouth, both metaphorically, and very literally.

He had a tiny stomach reflux, that he forcefully suppressed.

"And even if I did, would it change a thing?

Only someone like him, could perform a miracle great enough to save us...

His descendants may have inherited a part of his talent, even exceeding him in some aspects.

For example, Bing Qin Yang has a far greater talent in Soul Path, which makes him very uniquely talented for research.

Or Bing Sheng Wang who has an even greater physique and talent in Fire Path than him.

Most people believe that they're on the same level than him, but they're not.

Bing Zhang Hung was unique, not because he was great at something, but because he was good at everything."

That could never be overstated enough, because that was what truly gave him the edge against his peers.

Why?

Every Path had it's weaknesses and strengths, some paths were good for healing, others for fighting, others for thinking.

Bing Zhang Hung used the strengths of every Paths to fuel his growth, and also used another phenomena.

It was very well-known that various Paths benefited each other, and had great synergies.

Wood Path could be Cultivated faster by using Light, Water, or Earth Path techniques.

Or a Cognition Path Cultivator could amplify their brain further by relying on Soul or Time Path.

Of course, that did not meant it was a good idea to Cultivate as many Path as possible.

Every Path had it's own essence, that needed to be understood and comprehended, the more Paths you Cultivated, the more you had to split your time to understand them.

And every second spent on research was a second not spent Cultivating, which decreased your speed of Cultivation.

At the same time, the more Paths a Cultivation Sutra had, the more complex they became.

The amount of time spent to create a Sutra of 8 Paths was simply too high, and the difficulty of using them also increased.

Another obstacle at doing this was that the more complex a Cultivation Method was, the harder it was to modify them on the future.

Finally, not everyone had the same all-encompassing talent than him.

Why would a person spend a year to become decent at painting, when they could become great on writing in a single year?

Not everyone could be Bing Zhang Hung.

Returning to reality.

The patriarch fell to his knees, as he vomited.

His expression was of pure bewilderment as he looked at the vomit on the ground.

The color of the vomit was mainly of bronze, with many scattered tiny shards of metal, or fragments of rocks, with a mix of some black blood.

All of his vomit was hot, hotter than boiling water.

So hot, that it even began to vaporize itself.

"An old decaying puddle, that is destroying itself.

Truly befitting of me!"

He laughed bitterly at his own attempt of a 'joke.'

...

The old man moved his gaze away, he inspected at his surrounds.

Even though they're far away, with his enhanced vision, he was able to look at the streets of the Bing Clan.

He saw a few kids playing, he saw some of his comrades drinking while being drunk, he saw various happy families.

"I cannot fail my ancestors.

Even though I do not want to admit it, I am far past my prime.

With the power I still have, I must ensure the future of our Clan..."

The patriarch pondered and pondered.

He needed to create the perfect successor, but he also could not get too close to them, because he may become biased again.

Of course, he also needed to ensure the quality of the successors, they needed to be talented and hard working, but also loyal, and kind.

The same mistake could not be repeated twice.

"I have an idea.

Firstly, I need to gather the most talented seedlings of our Clan, whom must have less than 25 years of age.

To guarantee the quality of those seedlings, I will not judge them merely by the abilities they have already shown, but the ones they demonstrate on real conflicts.

However, I will not make them join any mercenary groups, because those places attract corruption, and the worst of mankind.

And are likely part of the reason why my son turned out like this...

Instead, I have to make them join into a place, that everyone agrees is righteous, noble even.

A IPPA group (Investigation, Protection and Prevention of Anomalies)"

Anomalies...

The origin of the name came from those rare inexplicable phenomenons around the world, places that simply did not make any sense.

For example, there was a place which was known as the place of the eternal raining.

On the morning, the place seemed normal, from the skies many drops of water would descend, whose only peculiarity is that they smelled like spring leaves.

But after half the day passes, something unique will take place.

The water will begin to be pulled by the clouds.

Not just the water that it fell on the ground, but all sources of water, humans, animals, plants, anything around it would wither.

Finally, by the next morning the drops of water would descend again.

Producing an endless cycle.

...

Across the world there were all kinds of anomalies, there were Time Anomalies, Soul Anomalies, Light Anomalies, and so on.

Those Anomalies normally caused untold amounts of harm, if they're not contained.

And thus, there were many groups that had been formed to deal with them.

Each of those groups provided great rewards, salaries, and insights to their members.

But still, very few joined them, because the risks were simply too huge.

The patriarch smiled lightly.

"Of course, that does not mean that I cannot convince them, as long as enough resources are given, I am sure most of them will agree to join such groups.

As for those who do not, they are lost causes.

They may be talented, they may be hard working, but without courage, they will never reach the Void Realm."

He frowned.

"Whilst for those who join?

I will send a few a people to monitor their progress, I need to see how do they act when they're on danger, do they freeze, do they fight, do they run, do they sacrifice others to survive?

I need to know those answers, only then I can be reassured."

Finally, he concluded with.

"I will come to speak with them personally."