The lion’s laughter was eerily sinister. Its massive head appeared both majestic and ferocious, with golden fur several feet long and snow-white fangs in its broad maw as sharp as daggers.
After Shi Hao fell into the water, his entire body stiffened as if frozen—though the temperature was far colder than any ice cellar. His flesh and blood were compressed, nearly tearing apart.
He inwardly cursed and swiftly resisted.
Yet, in the next moment, the extreme cold vanished, and the pool suddenly boiled, its temperature surpassing even molten lava. Surging divine energy churned within.
At this moment, Shi Hao was both shocked and horrified. His body was on the verge of being cooked and torn apart—this pool was bizarre beyond measure.
He sensed no opportunity for enlightenment; instead, he was being ripped apart. The shift from extreme cold to extreme heat was too abrupt.
“Don’t come down!” the Golden Lion roared.
Because at that moment, six or seven figures had rushed to the mountaintop, gazing down at the pool with eyes blazing divine radiance.
From the shore, the boiling divine energy in the lake was palpable—so dense it carried a faint, immortal-like fragrance, as if the pool were filled with celestial elixir.
Ignoring the Golden Lion’s warning, they leaped in, splashing waves everywhere.
“Ah—!”
Someone screamed, their entire body wracked with agony that seeped into their very soul. They couldn’t endure it.
One tried to leap out, struggling to escape, only to be dragged back and imprisoned in the water.
Splash!
A spray of blood erupted as one of them was instantly melted by the lake, reduced to a pool of gore—body and soul annihilated.
“No! What kind of cursed place is this?!” another shrieked as his flesh corroded, dissolving into countless strands of light before vanishing entirely.
“Let me go!” the others howled, thrashing violently.
But without exception, their bodies disintegrated first, or their souls scattered like rain—all were dissolved within the pool.
Seven young elites perished in an instant, utterly obliterated!
It was a tragedy—those who followed had all died.
This was no place of fortune—it was a demonic pool!
The outcome made the faces of the powerful cultivators present turn grim. Some of those young elites hailed from royal lineages, yet they had died so inexplicably.
“Little lion, you’d better give me an explanation!” An elder below darkened with fury.
“Elder, they were too reckless. This opportunity isn’t so easily obtained,” the Golden Lion replied, shaking its head. It had warned them, but they hadn’t listened.
Meanwhile, in the pool, Shi Hao endured unbearable agony. The moment those others dissolved, he realized this was no treasure trove—it was a trap.
The water was too tyrannical, threatening to grind his body to pieces.
Even his soul was under assault, on the verge of disintegration.
Shi Hao couldn’t understand—why was the Golden Lion unharmed while he faced destruction?
He had clearly witnessed the gruesome deaths of those royal youths. If not for his extraordinary talent, profound cultivation, and resilient physique, he would have shared their fate.
He struggled to break free but found himself trapped as if in quicksand, immobilized and confined.
“Hah, you dare steal my fortune?” the Fearless Lion sneered, its voice icy with killing intent.
In the distance, the onlookers wore strange expressions, finding the lion’s ruthlessness unsettling.
“No wonder you were so brazen—you lured me into competing for this ‘fortune,'” Shi Hao said coldly.
As he spoke, cracks spread across his body. He was on the verge of collapse, while the rotten wooden box floated on the water’s surface, refusing to sink.
“Hah… I told you—today, you perish here. Not everyone can claim this fortune,” the Golden Lion mocked.
It began chanting an obscure incantation, incomprehensible to outsiders, reinforcing itself. This was the scripture protecting it.
Earlier, it had recited silently; now, it chanted openly, taunting Shi Hao.
Just then, the group at the mountain’s base advanced, though half remained cautious, refraining from climbing.
“The mission is nearly complete. We can take this box and leave,” an elder smiled, reaching the summit.
Assured the ancient beast wouldn’t awaken, they relaxed slightly, gathering by the lakeside to observe.
“How amusing. Is this what they call ‘catching a turtle in a jar’?” a middle-aged man jeered, finding Shi Hao’s predicament entertaining.
“Ha! Keep running, Shi Hao! Now you’re trapped—how does it feel?” several youths laughed mockingly.
By now, many had ascended, watching from the peak, eager to witness this moment.
“Got the guts to come down and catch me yourself?” Shi Hao retorted.
Sweat drenched his brow as he endured excruciating pain. His body was being torn apart, his soul nearly dissolving into light.
The pool was bizarre—shifting between icy cold, scorching heat, and resonating with cryptic chants.
This place was unpredictable and deadly, designed to dissolve any living being that entered.
Infuriated by his defiance, several youths on the shore sneered and attacked.
Under normal circumstances, they were no match for Shi Hao. But now, seeing him cornered yet still defiant, they sought to humiliate—or kill—him.
Swoosh!
A barrage of ancestral techniques rained down, only to be absorbed and nullified by the lake.
“This…” The youths paled, frustrated that their attacks were useless despite their enemy’s vulnerability.
“Fearless Lion King, what’s happening here?” one asked.
An elder, his face dark with grief—his descendant had dissolved earlier—reached out to test the waters.
“Elder, don’t!” the Golden Lion warned.
“Why not? Can’t I even touch this pool?” the elder snapped, resentful of the lion’s indifference to his loss.
Were it not for the Fearless Lion lineage’s terrifying prestige—their ancestor possibly still alive—he would have punished the beast.
“This is the Reincarnation Pool, also called the Tempering Pool. Anyone entering endures pain beyond their limits, grinding them to nothing,” the Golden Lion explained.
Even supreme experts would face forces surpassing the Dunyi realm’s limits, unable to resist.
“Then why are you unharmed?” the elder demanded, dipping a finger into the water.
Sizzle!
The moment his fingertip touched the lake, it began corroding, nearly crumbling to bone.
The elder recoiled, gasping. What kind of cursed pool was this?
The others, too, were stunned. They had assumed only the young were at risk—now they saw how terrifying it truly was.
“Because this pool was meant for our lineage,” the Golden Lion stated.
“What?” Many were shocked.
Shi Hao, despite his agony, clung to life—astonishing the lion.
“This Reincarnation Pool was left by the Ancient Monks…” the Golden Lion revealed.
It had sensed the pool’s aura from afar, matching its clan’s records—a creation of the Ancient Monks.
Their ancestor had once followed the Immortal Monk King—or more accurately, was subdued by the monks and joined their order.
Thus, they mastered Buddhist arts and secrets.
“The Ancient Monks sought to manifest reincarnation—this pool was part of their grand endeavor,” the lion explained.
Its exact purpose remained unclear, but it knew the pool could temper the body—if one possessed the right scripture and physique.
The so-called “Monk Physique” was forged through decades of Buddhist cultivation.
The Fearless Lion met these conditions, hence its excitement upon finding the pool—a supreme opportunity.
“Is there no way for us to benefit?” an elder asked, aware of the Ancient Monks’ formidable legacy.
“Even if I taught you the scripture, it would take decades to cultivate the required physique,” the lion replied smugly.
“Any alternatives?” some youths pressed, unwilling to miss such a chance.
“Unless you defy the heavens and survive the tempering. Only the Immortal Monk King achieved that in his youth, entering without Buddhist cultivation and emerging alive,” the lion said.
Then it frowned—Shi Hao had lasted far longer than expected.
“Why hasn’t he died yet? Don’t tell me another Immortal Monk King is being born!” an elder exclaimed, staring at Shi Hao.
All eyes turned to him. By the lion’s logic, he should have dissolved by now—yet he lived.
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