The Sacred Spirit Consciousness Repository resembled a vast starry sky.
As they continued forward, a rust-covered stone stele appeared before Feng Qi.
They stopped in front of the stele.
Hei Xuan looked at Feng Qi and the Mist Lord.
"Beyond this lies the first level of the Sacred Spirit Consciousness Repository. Every star you see contains a legacy of knowledge and memories."
As he spoke, Hei Xuan turned his gaze to the stone stele, a trace of reverence appearing in his eyes.
"Weren't you curious about the history of my race's rise? Try touching this stele, and you will see the answer."
Hearing this, Feng Qi and the Mist Lord immediately stepped forward and touched the stone stele without hesitation.
The instant their fingers made contact with the stele, the golden marks Hei Xuan had imprinted on Feng Qi's and the Mist Lord's foreheads began to glow as they received information.
The world before their eyes began to collapse and distort.
A heavy sense of history washed over them as countless fragmented scenes flashed past, eventually piecing themselves together before their eyes.
When everything before them became clear, they found themselves looking upon a somewhat barren plain...
On the plain, a group of young boys followed a burly man through physical training.
Every one of them was drenched in sweat, yet their gazes remained resolute as they gritted their teeth and endured.
Among them, a boy of about seven or eight stood out for his diligence. Every movement he made during training strove for perfection, and he used a breathing technique to spread the spiritual energy drawn in through his mouth and nose throughout his body.
After several hours of training, the burly man's shout sent everyone scattering. Only the seven- or eight-year-old boy voluntarily approached him and began asking