Although Little Bad King firmly believed he qualified as a person of "noble character," he never held himself to particularly lofty moral standards. Without question, this was a very crafty philosophy of life. If his moral bottom line was low, no one could use morality to hold him hostage; conversely, if he occasionally did something above his own moral baseline, he might even earn a few compliments.
He had room to maneuver either way. How satisfying!
After everyone finished contemplating the poem praising the saint, they felt it was getting late and they could begin the Secret Realm's trials. Little Bad King led them in facing the small temple, bowing reverently, and quietly focusing their senses. Then their Divine Souls stirred, and they entered a place of boundless white mist as though slipping into a dream.
[In a daze, you seem to glimpse the ruins of an extraordinarily magnificent civilization. Among those collapsed, abandoned remnants, the splendor and grandeur of "yesterday" still linger. From the dust, the devout cries of bygone days come sweeping toward you, seeming to celebrate the achievements of countless sages. You close your eyes to listen, and countless young children's voices ring in your ears, as though reciting scriptures passed down through a hundred generations in a classroom. Saints pass away, but their words endure, telling those who come after them, through writings handed down across the ages, where you came from and where you are going. This is inheritance; this is the origin of civilization... Welcome to the Saint Heart Realm.] [Important notice: the Saint Heart Realm's trials contain extreme penalties for failure, as well as "outcomes" ordinary Travelers would find almost impossible to accept. If you are having second thoughts, please leave as soon as possible.]
"?!"
Black Dog froze at those