Four Lifetimes of Reincarnation, Spirit Sea Born Stars!

Ronan and the girl settled down in the mountains.

The girl he named Moriel was responsible for taking care of his daily needs. He taught her to read, identify herbs, hunt, and fight wild animals.

He devoted all his energy to studying the Primordial Spirit Writing.

Every so often, the Golden Ladybug representing Alazan would appear under the moonlight, bringing him new runes.

Similar in frequency to the appearance of the Golden Ladybug is the Black Snake Knight Order of the Deep Drowning Church, who go into the mountains every few months to search for the "Golden Canary" that inexplicably escaped from the Pope's side.

Ronan and Moriel were forced to constantly move deeper into the mountains and forests, further and further away from people.

Five years later, the Black Snake Knight Order appeared less frequently.

Ten years later, there was no trace of anyone.

After thoroughly searching every corner of the Deep Drowning Church's territory, almost to the point of digging three feet into the ground, the high and mighty Female Pope seemed to have finally given up on finding Ronan.

Time passed year after year, day and night alternated, and the seasons changed.

On a [Falling Snow] winter night, Moriel, who had faithfully served Ronan her entire life, died by the campfire.

On a breezy afternoon, she encountered the most brilliant dawn of her life. He entered her life without warning, leading her step by step out of the mud and ignorance, bestowing upon her courage, wisdom, and strength, and coloring her gray, stagnant life with many splendid and unique colors.

Moriel died peacefully and contentedly.

Three years after Moriel's death, Ronan finally reached the end of his cycle of reincarnation.

In his final moments, Ronan saw a gigantic black serpent emerge from the void. On its back, Sekaterina, crowned and wielding a scepter, coldly watched him, just as she had when he left. "Buzz—"

The air vibrated slightly as Ronan opened his eyes.

Before him lay the same bright and clean Knowledge Tower, with endless bookshelves filling his entire field of vision.

His body and brain were like machines that hadn't been used for a long time, the gears slowly turning, and some rust began to fall off one by one. Finally, the sense of old age and vicissitude in Ronan's eyes faded away, like silt in murky water gradually settling to the bottom, and his eyes regained their clarity.

"This time... I stayed inside for eighty-five days?"

Ronan spoke in a low voice, his voice sounding dry and hoarse from not speaking for so long.

"Almost."

Alazan's voice rang in his ear, "During that time, I transmitted a total of 432 Primordial Spirit Writing to you. How many do you still remember?"

Ronan opened his Character Panel. Under the rune list in the skills section, densely packed Primordial Spirit Writing occupied a large area of blank space, with no proficiency displayed, since these were not considered true runes.

The total number was 431. It was the last Primordial Spirit Writing transmitted by Alazan. He hadn't had time to fully memorize it before his life in that lifetime came to an end.

"Less than half."

Ronan pondered for a moment before answering Alazan.

He didn't want to reveal the secret that he possessed the panel.

"It's already very good."

Alazan said in a comforting tone, "No matter how real it is, a dream is still a dream. When you wake up, the things you experienced in the dream will inevitably be washed away by the tide, like a beach at low tide. You are not the first wizard to think of using 'Dream of Reincarnation' in this way. Most people are already doing very well if they can retain a third of what they learn in their dreams after they wake up."

"So you knew you could do this all along? But you didn't warn me."

Ronan spoke calmly.

"Don't forget that you are just a beginner. Although you performed well in your first spiritual tempering, as your 'guide,' I have a responsibility to ensure that you don't get lost in the cycle of reincarnation."

Alazan answered in a serious tone.

"In this cycle of reincarnation, I saw a black serpent, so enormous that it could coil around the entire world..."

Ronan looked up, his eyes filled with a hint of dazedness and reminiscence.

Alazan suddenly fell silent.

After a moment, he spoke in a low voice, "Damien, you are progressing too fast in your cultivation of 'Spirit Heart Amber'. There are some things that you cannot access right now. Before you fully advance to Dawn, do not continue to 'enter the dream'."

"You're still hiding many secrets from me."

As Ronan spoke, he took out some food and medicine from his Space Ring, silently replenishing his body's energy reserves after nearly three months of depletion.

Once he had recovered somewhat, Ronan found a relatively comfortable spot to sit cross-legged, closed his eyes, and calmly said, "Let's continue, Alazan, I still have time."

"You"

Alazan frowned, but before he could speak, a petal from Black Dandelion gently fell.

In the end, all the advice and heartfelt words could only turn into a soft sigh.

"Why"

Three months later, Ronan awoke from his deep sleep for the second time.

This time, he spent an extra two months stabilizing his mind and clearing the impurities from his soul before once again requesting to "enter the dream" from Alazan, unsurprisingly receiving a strong opposition from Alazan.

"Being 'entered in a dream' twice in a row is already very dangerous. Do you really think you can do it a third time? Are you crazy?"

"I know where my limits are."

Ronan ignited the Golden Fire on his soul, and wisps of golden smoke rose from his body, carrying away some of the impurities in his soul.

"I remember telling you what kind of person I am a long time ago. Someone else said something similar to me, about a special potion that could tear apart the soul of an ordinary wizard with just two bottles. I ended up taking six bottles."

"I've seen too many people who think too highly of themselves, and the vast majority of them are far more capable than you."

"Later, they all ended their brilliant lives prematurely, filled with endless pain and regret," Alazan said coldly.

"There are always exceptions, aren't there?"

Ronan spoke calmly, "I know what you're worried about, Alazan. If I lose my way [Depravity], you can have my remains."

After saying that, Ronan closed his eyes.

Four months later, Ronan awoke.

His once clear eyes seemed to be veiled by a layer of gray gauze, and his consciousness seemed somewhat chaotic, but his whole being exuded an indescribable sense of profundity and weight.

This time, he spent even more time sorting himself out.

The flames of the [Golden Soul] scorch the soul, emitting a crackling sound like burning damp firewood, and the smoke emanating from its body is now much grayish-black.

"Again."

He awoke from the cycle of reincarnation for the fourth time.

Alazan

Ronan called out Alazan's name in a hoarse voice, but received no response.

His eyes were cloudy, his body was curled up on the ground, and golden flames rose silently from his shoulders and back, burning thick "Ash Smoke".

His imposing aura grew even stronger.

The aura of spiritual energy seeped out of his body, taking on a thick amber color, completely distorting the surrounding void. An invisible wind arose, causing the gray books on the surrounding bookshelves to rustle.

A golden ladybug hovered silently to his side, watching him indifferently.

Ronan was in a state of confusion, his memories of four "reincarnations" intertwined, like a ball of yarn that had been unraveled and crumpled, clogging his mind in a mess.

He remained curled up on the ground for a long time, the Golden Fire burning continuously, emitting wisps of Ash Smoke.

A few months? Or half a year?

Finally, a glimmer of clarity returned to Ronan's eyes.

Alazan

A golden ladybug flew close to him, and a cold voice rang out.

"Shall we continue?"

Ronan silently sat up, leaning against the bookshelf, his breath rising and falling like turbulent water.

Is it alright?

Ronan's lips moved as he asked Alazan, but it sounded more like he was asking himself.

"It's no longer necessary."

A golden ladybug gently landed on the back of his hand, his tone a sigh tinged with a complex mix of emotions.

"The trial is over, Damien."

Ronan paused for a moment, then slowly looked up.

Only then did he realize that ten strange, deep blue crystals, as dazzling as falling stars, were quietly floating around him.

The surrounding scenery became illusory at that moment, and a force pushed Ronan away.

Alazan's final words echoed in my ears.

"After this is over, let's spare no effort to gather the materials to make the 'Clarity Potion' as soon as possible."

".. Um."

Above the Spirit Lake Secret Realm Space, several figures dressed in Moon White Robe appeared.

"It's almost time."

One of the wizards, dressed in a moon-white robe, glanced at the golden hourglass in his hand, which was about to run out of sand, and spoke calmly.

The others nodded, and one of them picked up a Short Staff and gently tapped the empty space in front of him like a drum.

Large ripples spread through the void, instantly spreading throughout the entire Spirit Lake space.

Soon, several wizards dressed in robes of various colors appeared around the few white-robed wizards.

They were all shadowy figures, some with indistinct faces, others with most of their bodies hidden in the void, but without exception, each figure exuded a powerful aura far exceeding that of an ordinary Dawn Wizard.

Although these figures stood casually and haphazardly, they were roughly divided into three distinct areas, representing the three major factions of Spirit Lake, each clearly separated from the others.

The top leaders of the three major factions were all present, and three more figures dressed in gray robes quietly appeared.

There was almost no powerful aura emanating from these three individuals, yet their appearance caused all the wizards present to bow in unison, demonstrating their extraordinary status.

The three gray-robed men exchanged brief glances. The leader, holding a tall rattan staff, moved his lips slightly, as if giving a silent order.

The first few wizards in moon-white robes received instructions, waved their staffs, and strange incantations rang out.

After a few breaths, the smooth and calm Spirit Lake beneath them, which was like a mirror of the sky, began to ripple.

It was as if invisible raindrops were falling from the void, landing on the lake and creating ripples.

Gradually, within each circular ripple, "stars" lit up, some bright and some dim.