When Sage South Rain arrived the day after receiving Flint's message, her typically serene expression softened with concern as she examined the wounds across Flint's back. "These injuries are quite severe," she remarked, her usually composed voice tinged with gentle worry.

Flint scratched her head casually. "It's nothing really," she shrugged, though in truth, she couldn't feel any pain - just an occasional phantom itch as the wounds healed. She recounted the encounter with the crazed cultivator, explaining how he had ultimately perished when his natural aura exploded, and how during the ordeal, she had stumbled upon some ways to use natural aura herself, even if she couldn't quite control it yet. Throughout her account, Sage South Rain listened with characteristic stillness, her clear eyes focused and attentive.

After finishing her story, Flint hesitated, her usual straightforward demeanor giving way to uncertainty. "When the Resentment Force entered my mind," she began, choosing her words carefully, "there was this sudden flash of white light, and in it, I think I saw... you."

She fixed Sage South Rain with a questioning look as she spoke that last word. The reaction was subtle but unmistakable - surprise flickered across the Legend cultivator's features, followed by something more complex that looked almost like... excitement? The emotion seemed to ripple beneath her calm exterior like a stone disturbing still waters.

"You were wearing... rather tattered clothes. I reached out to you and said, 'Let's go.' Then... nothing else after that." Flint finished, waiting expectantly for Sage South Rain to fill in the blanks. Her mind quietly turned over the possibility that these fragments might be glimpses of her past life. Had she been the one to save Sage South Rain?

A complex blend of emotions crossed Sage South Rain's face as she gazed at Flint - joy and sorrow intertwined like two streams meeting. "It really is you," she breathed, her voice barely above a whisper. "You've come back."

She opened her mouth to continue but fell silent, seemingly trying to steady her slightly quickened breathing. The usually composed Legend cultivator appeared to be struggling to maintain her characteristic serenity.

"Flint..." she began again, her clear eyes searching, "though I would rather call you Master Snow..." She watched Flint's face intently, hoping for a flicker of recognition at the name. Finding only confusion in Flint's blank expression, she let out a soft sigh. "Perhaps you haven't remembered your previous name yet. Is that all you saw?"

Flint contemplated whether to mention the vision of the Spark-like man embracing her, taking a fatal sword blow in her place. But after a moment's consideration, she decided against it. The scene felt too nebulous, too intimate to share with someone who seemed to be her senior, regardless of their past connection. So she swallowed the memory and simply replied, "That's all."

The words felt heavy on her tongue, weighted with the unspoken truth she'd chosen to keep hidden. But something in her gut told her this wasn't the right moment to reveal everything - some mysteries, she sensed, needed to unravel themselves in their own time.

"I believe the past life you've been searching for... was Obsidian Snow. She was... executed by the Immortal Alliance about three hundred years ago." Sage South Rain's voice carried an anger long buried, strikingly at odds with her usual serenity. "The reasons were complex - the Alliance accused her of many crimes. Slaughtering cultivators, soul absorption, harboring criminals... But the gravest charge was that your very existence caused anomalies in the natural order. They claimed killing you was necessary to beg heaven's forgiveness."

A cold smile played at the corners of her lips, an expression that seemed foreign on her typically gentle features. "But these were merely fabricated excuses," she continued, her words sharp with barely contained contempt. "The Immortal Alliance is nothing but a group of sanctimonious hypocrites."

Flint nodded absently, though the information felt like pieces from a stranger's puzzle. Everything she had heard about the Immortal Alliance from Spark painted them as the guardians of order and justice in the cultivation world. She couldn't quite reconcile that image with Sage South Rain's evident hatred for them. This Obsidian Snow must have meant a great deal to her, Flint mused, studying the unusual display of emotion from the normally composed Legend cultivator. The contradiction between what she knew and what she was hearing created a strange dissonance in her mind, like trying to overlap two mismatched paintings.

Deep down, a part of her wondered if there was more to this story - more layers to peel back, more truths to uncover. But for now, she remained silent, watching the subtle play of emotions across Sage South Rain's face, each one hinting at depths of history she had yet to understand.

"That scene you witnessed - the person you reached out to was me. You took me away and became my master." A smile touched Sage South Rain's lips, her expression softening as she seemed to drift into memories - bittersweet ones that carried both pain and tenderness.

"Me? Your master?" Flint raised her eyebrows in genuine surprise. She had guessed she might have saved Sage South Rain in her past life, but this revelation took her aback. The idea that she had once been teacher to such an esteemed Legend cultivator seemed almost absurd. She studied Sage South Rain's face with new curiosity, trying to imagine herself as this powerful woman's mentor.

"Yes." Sage South Rain nodded, her smile deepening with unmistakable fondness. There was something both familiar and strange in watching this usually composed Legend cultivator look at her with such warm reverence - like catching a glimpse of yourself in a mirror and seeing someone else's reflection. The weight of their shared past hung in the air between them, though to Flint it felt like trying to remember a dream that kept slipping away.

Flint felt strangely hollow as the answers she had so desperately sought finally materialized. Was this really the past life she had been chasing since her awakening - someone deemed a criminal? Spark's influence had seeped into her thinking more than she'd realized: how could anyone condemned by the Immortal Alliance be anything but a villain? She wondered how Spark would react to learning about her past identity.

Suddenly, her burning curiosity about her previous life began to fade. The goal that had driven her to the Celestial Sword Sect seemed to lose its luster, leaving an empty space where purpose had once been. It felt like reaching for something that kept dissolving between her fingers.

"My past self... absorbed souls?" Flint picked out one of Obsidian Snow's alleged crimes, but her mind wandered to the crazed cultivator who had killed mortals for their souls. Had she really committed the same atrocities? Then she remembered how that cultivator's soul had somehow become part of her intangible force after his death, and her expression grew grave.

"Impossible." Sage South Rain smiled at her with absolute certainty. "She spent much of her life fighting against the hypocritical Immortal Alliance, trying to stop their members from absorbing mortal souls."

Flint's mind reeled at the contradiction. How could members of the Immortal Alliance be absorbing souls when that was one of their own accusations? The pieces refused to fit together in her head.

"But... wasn't the Alliance trying to prevent soul absorption? You just said that was one of their charges against her..." Flint voiced her confusion.

Sage South Rain's expression turned contemplative. "By the time I met Master Snow, the Alliance had already reached an agreement with the Abyssal Pavilion to stay out of mortal realm conflicts and jointly hunt down any cultivators who absorbed souls for cultivation. She only mentioned to me that she had once accomplished this while risking persecution from the Alliance."

"Um, about the Abyssal Pavilion... did I have some connection to them?" Flint asked, her confusion mounting. Each of Sage South Rain's revelations seemed to spawn a dozen new questions, like ripples spreading across a pond.

A fleeting sadness crossed Sage South Rain's clear eyes. "'The Abyssal Pavilion provides refuge to all fallen souls in the world,'" she quoted softly, the words carrying the weight of ancient wisdom. "You were one of its founders, alongside The Bamboo Sovereign. Together, you established it as a sanctuary for those hunted by the Immortal Alliance. Even today, the Pavilion maintains that purpose..." She let out a gentle sigh, her voice tinged with melancholy. "Though The Bamboo Sovereign passed away two decades after your execution."

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Flint felt the ground shifting beneath her feet. The Abyssal Pavilion - the same organization that Spark and others spoke of with such disdain - had been partially her creation? The irony wasn't lost on her: here she was at the Celestial Sword Sect, while in another life she had helped build what was now considered its opposition. The revelation left her feeling oddly disconnected, as if she were simultaneously two different people occupying the same space - the confused disciple of the present and this mysterious founder from the past.

A sanctuary for the hunted, she thought, turning the concept over in her mind. It sounded noble enough, yet something about it nagged at her. Perhaps it was the way such good intentions could twist into something darker over time, like a tree growing crooked from its original straight shoot. Or perhaps it was the growing realization that the world she thought she understood was far more complex than she had imagined.

"So you were... Obsidian Snow's disciple..." Flint stumbled slightly over the name, finding it strange to speak aloud what was supposedly her own past identity. "Then you must have originally belonged to... the Abyssal Pavilion."

"Yes," Sage South Rain lowered her voice, using her natural aura to gently push the door closed. There was a steely determination in her tone as she continued, "I'm searching for answers."

"Answers?" The vague response only added to Flint's growing confusion.

"About the true cause of the heavenly anomalies, why the Immortal Alliance was so determined to execute you, and..." Sage South Rain's lips curved into a bitter smile, "the shadow government behind the Alliance... Though I've found that the more answers I seek, the more questions arise."

Flint noticed how naturally Sage South Rain spoke of 'you' when referring to Obsidian Snow, but she couldn't quite make that same connection. In her mind, Obsidian Snow remained a historical figure of ambiguous morality, a stranger whose actions echoed through time - not herself. The disconnect between who she was now and who she had apparently been felt like trying to step into someone else's shadow - the shape was there, but it didn't quite fit.

She couldn't help but wonder if her dissatisfaction with her search for her past life was due to the fact that it now felt like a foreign identity, one that slightly repulsed her. The thought that she might have been someone so significant, so controversial, created a strange pressure in her chest, like trying to breathe underwater.

Sage South Rain watched Flint's conflicted expression, her own heart filling with complicated emotions. Her master had returned, yet not completely - she neither remembered everything nor seemed willing to accept that she had once been Obsidian Snow. The person before her was both familiar and strange, like looking at a beloved painting through frosted glass.

Deciding to shift the conversation, she smiled gently. "You mentioned earlier that you could use natural aura?"

The question pulled Flint from her tangled thoughts, and she nodded, grateful for the change in topic. "Though it doesn't exactly obey me." She demonstrated by attempting to control the blanket with natural aura, just as she had shown Seedling before. The blanket remained stubbornly still, refusing to follow her gestures.

Sage South Rain's eyes took on a distant look as memories washed over her. "Master Snow also had Deficient spirit roots in all six elements..." A wistful smile played across her lips. "Though, I never thought to ask her how she managed to use natural aura. Strange, isn't it? The questions we fail to ask until it's too late."

Flint felt a jolt at hearing another similarity between herself and Obsidian Snow. The revelation left her momentarily speechless - they really were alike, weren't they? Her curiosity piqued, she found herself stumbling over the words, caught between past and present identities. "Was Obsidian Snow... was I... a powerful cultivator?" The question came out hesitantly, as if she were trying on an old piece of clothing, unsure if it still fit.

The slight correction in her words didn't escape Sage South Rain's notice, and a subtle smile touched her lips. "Indeed. You reached the Deity level," she replied, her voice carrying a hint of pride mixed with reverence.

The words hung in the air between them, heavy with significance. In the cultivation world, progress was marked by five distinct levels: Initiative, Adept, Master, Legend, and Deity. Each level was further divided into three stages - Early, Middle, and Late. The journey began at Early Initiative, achieved when one could first guide natural aura into their body through a Cultivation Method. Most of her fellow Outer Sect disciples who had joined around the same time as her had already reached the Initiative level, having successfully learned their first Cultivation Methods.

However, Flint remained in an unusual position - without the ability to learn any Cultivation Method, she existed outside this established hierarchy entirely.

The revelation that she had once achieved such heights left Flint feeling oddly hollow. Here she was, unable to even begin the journey of cultivation in the conventional sense, while her past self had apparently stood at the peak of power. The contrast felt almost cruel - like being told you once knew how to fly, only to find yourself earthbound with no memory of having wings.

"Was it because of my six Deficient spirit roots that you thought I was Obsidian Snow's reincarnation?" Flint asked, her voice carrying a mix of curiosity and hesitation. The question had been nagging at her since the revelation of their shared trait.

Sage South Rain's gaze turned contemplative, her clear eyes seeming to look both at Flint and through her, into the depths of memory. "Actually, I wasn't entirely certain at first," she admitted softly. "Since Obsidian Snow never reached The Great Perfection of Deity, I wasn't sure if reincarnation was even possible for her..." A gentle smile touched her lips as she studied Flint's features. "But when I first saw you, I knew. You look just like her."

Flint met Sage South Rain's gaze, finding herself caught in the intensity of the emotion she saw there. The Legend cultivator's eyes held a complex tapestry of feelings - pride in who Flint had once been, nostalgia for times long past, and something deeper, more yearning, like someone who had found a precious treasure they thought forever lost. The weight of those expectations settled uncomfortably on Flint's shoulders.

She was acutely aware that she possessed only the outer shell of Sage South Rain's master - a mere physical resemblance to Obsidian Snow, without any of the power or wisdom that had earned such devotion. The thought left a bitter taste in her mouth. Here she was, wearing the face of a Deity-level cultivator while unable to even begin the most basic cultivation practices. It felt like an impostor wearing borrowed clothes, a cruel joke of fate that had given her the appearance but none of the substance of her previous life.

"What a... coincidence indeed," Flint managed, her voice trailing off uncertainly. She could feel the weight of Sage South Rain's expectations in her gaze - a burden she wasn't ready to shoulder. The revelation of her past life felt like being handed an oversized coat; while it might have fit Obsidian Snow perfectly, it hung awkwardly on her present self.

A soft thud interrupted her thoughts as someone tried to push open the door, only to find it unexpectedly closed. The sound echoed in the quiet room like a misplaced heartbeat. Usually, her door remained half-open throughout the day until Spark came to close it at night - a necessary arrangement since her broken leg left her unable to manage it herself. Her attempts at controlling natural aura were still too unreliable, so telekinesis remained frustratingly out of reach.

"That's... probably my friend coming to get me for dinner," Flint explained, grateful for the interruption. The timing felt like a lifeline thrown into increasingly deep waters.

Sage South Rain nodded, her expression softening with understanding. "Flint," she began, choosing her words carefully, "perhaps I should keep calling you Flint, since that name seems more natural to you now." Her voice carried a gentle acceptance that seemed to lift some of the invisible weight from Flint's shoulders. "I'll help you find ways to recover your memories, and perhaps with them, the method of cultivation despite having six Deficient spirit roots. The path ahead won't be easy, but you won't walk it alone."

The words hung in the air like a gentle mist, neither demanding nor pressing. Sage South Rain seemed to realize that perhaps she had placed too much pressure on Flint's shoulders too soon - after all, discovering you were once a controversial Deity-level cultivator wasn't exactly an easy revelation to digest over a single conversation.

As Flint expressed her gratitude, Sage South Rain made her way to the door. Opening it, she found Spark standing in the doorway, his posture immediately shifting into a respectful bow as he greeted the Legend cultivator.

Over dinner, Flint kept opening her mouth as if to speak, then closing it again, words seeming to evaporate before they could form. Spark noticed this dance of hesitation, her chopsticks hovering uncertainly over her bowl. He decided to break the awkward silence himself: "So... you were talking with Sage South Rain earlier?"

He scolded himself inwardly, feeling the dullness of his conversation. A powerful member of the Inferno Wolf clan reduced to such banal chit-chat.

Flint nodded, but the gesture only seemed to lead them into another conversational dead end. The silence stretched between them like an invisible wall, broken only by the soft clink of chopsticks against bowls. Finally, she gathered her courage and asked, "Do you know about Obsidian Snow?"

"No," Spark replied flatly, taking another bite of rice. The casual dismissal of the name felt strangely jarring to Flint after Sage South Rain's reverent mentions.Puzzled by the contrast, Flint pressed further: "What about the founders of the Abyssal Pavilion?"

Spark's brow furrowed in concentration, his golden eyes narrowing slightly as he searched his memory. After a moment, his expression cleared. "I think I've heard of one - supposedly he was originally a bamboo spirit, known as The Bamboo Sovereign. Don't know his real name though."

His lips curved into a slight smile, eager to share their own sect's history: "But I do know that the founder of the Celestial Sword Sect was called Blaze Mighty."

Flint nodded absently, the information about Blaze Mighty sliding past her like water off a duck's back. Her mind was busy piecing together a different puzzle - if Spark only knew of The Bamboo Sovereign, did that mean he had been more prominent in the Abyssal Pavilion's history than Obsidian Snow? The thought left her with an odd mixture of relief and disappointment - relief that her past identity remained somewhat hidden, yet disappointment at being so thoroughly forgotten by history.

Spark had actually come with something important to discuss, but seeing Flint's hesitation, he'd let her speak first. Now he found himself sitting through what seemed like a random history lesson. After confirming that Flint had exhausted her questions, he finally steeled himself to voice the thought that had been consuming his mind all day:

"Flint, would you like to practice dual cultivation with me?"

"What's 'dual cultivation'?" Flint stared at him with wide, innocent eyes, her confusion evident in her expression.

Spark prepared himself to explain 'dual cultivation' to Flint, though his knowledge was entirely secondhand. He only knew of it from stories within his clan - how male Inferno Wolf cultivators would share their natural aura with the Queen Mother during nighttime cultivation sessions. Since Flint couldn't cultivate conventionally, and his own Transcendent spirit root allowed for rapid cultivation, he figured sharing his natural aura through dual cultivation would be the most efficient solution. It certainly seemed more reliable than Seedling's wild idea about chasing wind.

He cleared his throat, carefully choosing his words: "It means I transfer my natural aura to you, so you can advance your level by absorbing it."

Flint's brow furrowed slightly as she considered this. "But if I absorb your natural aura, what about you?"

A note of pride crept into Spark's voice: "I have a Transcendent spirit root - cultivation comes quickly to me. Sharing a bit won't slow me down much." The moment the words left his mouth, he caught himself, wondering if boasting about his Transcendent-level spirit root might make Flint feel inferior about her own situation.

But Flint showed no sign of discomfort. Instead, her expression turned thoughtful as she considered the practicality of his suggestion. Her mind wandered to what Sage South Rain had revealed - that her previous incarnation had been a Deity-level cultivator who'd faced formidable opponents. While she couldn't be certain if similar challenges awaited her in this life, the need to build her strength felt undeniable.

She nodded, her decision made. "Alright," she said simply. "Thank you, Spark." The words were few, but the gratitude in them was genuine, making Spark's heart skip a beat despite himself.