A flying boat descended gracefully from the heavens, its massive frame casting an imposing shadow over the bustling city square.

  The crowd below murmured in awe, their eyes locked onto the vessel as it hovered above them. Its sleek design radiated power, with intricate runes carved into its hull shimmering faintly in the sunlight—a testament to the advanced craftsmanship of the Immortal Alliance.

  With a soft hum, the boat came to a halt. Several figures, clad in flowing robes marked by the Immortal Alliance’s insignia, leaped down with practiced ease. Their movements were fluid and controlled, exuding a commanding aura that instantly silenced the crowd. Each figure stood tall and poised, their spiritual power palpable even to those who had never cultivated before.

  At the forefront was an elder, his stern face framed by silver-streaked hair. His presence alone demanded respect, and when he spoke, his voice, amplified by spiritual energy, resonated across the square.

  “Today marks the beginning of the Immortal Alliance’s recruitment ceremony,” he announced, his tone solemn yet compelling. “Only those with a pure heart and a strong spirit shall advance. Let the testing begin.”

  A murmur of excitement rippled through the crowd as the elder finished speaking. The first stage of the recruitment was about to commence: the detection of spiritual roots.

  A large, ornate measuring tool was brought forward, its surface engraved with runes that glowed softly. This device would determine who among the participants had the potential to cultivate and ascend to the ranks of the Immortal Alliance.

  Rinne’s gaze drifted to the spiritual root measuring tool, her expression was complex.

  Memories of her past life surfaced—how she had stood before a similar device, filled with hope, only to be crushed by the realization that she lacked a spiritual root. That failure had set her on a dark path, one she was determined not to repeat.

  But this time, things were different. The outcome of this test didn’t matter as much to her now. She had a plan, knowledge that she hadn’t possessed before. Still, the sight of the tool brought back memories of her previous life’s disappointment, and she couldn't help but feel a pang of unease.

  The participants were quickly organized into lines according to their age groups. Rinne, after a brief moment of hesitation, stood up, collecting the cracked bowl and the few coins that had been tossed into it. She slipped them into a small bag at her side and made her way to the line designated for children aged 7 to 12.

  Avoiding the group of wealthier children clad in fine garments, she approached the section where the poorer children stood. Their clothes were as shabby as hers, though she noted that even they looked down upon her, a beggar who dared to join their ranks.

  As Rinne took her place in the line, she heard whispers and saw looks of disgust from the other children. Some of them sneered, their faces twisted with dissatisfaction. A few even stepped forward, trying to chase her away.

  One boy muttered, glaring at Rinne.

  “Why is this beggar here? This is not a place for you.”

  “You’ll bring us bad luck! Go away, beggar!”

  A girl added, scrunching up her nose.

  Rinne could only sigh inwardly at their pettiness. How ironic that these children, who were as poor and downtrodden as she appeared to be, could harbor such disdain for someone they saw as beneath them.

  “The ceremony is about to start, and the immortals are watching. Cause any trouble, and you’ll be the ones kicked out, not me.”

  Her words struck their mark. The children exchanged uneasy glances before falling silent. None of them dared risk expulsion, not when the Immortal Alliance’s representatives were present. Satisfied, Rinne turned her attention back to the ceremony, her mind steeling itself for the trial ahead.

  A hush fell over the square as the elder raised his hand. He gestured, and the measuring orb floated forward, radiating a soft light. The polished runes glinted in the sunlight, their intricate patterns a marvel of craftsmanship. A boy near the front of the line hesitated briefly before stepping forward, his shoes scuffing against the worn stones of the square.

  The elder raised his hand, and the measuring orb floated forward, radiating a soft light. The first child in line, a boy of about ten, stepped forward hesitantly. He placed his hands on the orb, which pulsed brighter as it assessed his spiritual potential.

  “Rylin Zareth, age 10 years old, double spiritual root: Earth 60%, Wood 35%, Passed,”

  The immortal announced, his voice echoing across the square.

  The boy's face lit up with joy as he stepped back into the crowd, where murmurs of approval rippled through the onlookers. His parents, standing nearby, breathed a sigh of relief.

  Next, a girl no older than eight approached the orb, her small hands trembling slightly as she touched its surface.

  "Eila Venar, age 8 years old, double spiritual root: Water 70%, Wood 45%, Passed."

  Eila's eyes sparkled with excitement as she hurried back to her place, her parents beaming with pride.

  One by one, the children stepped forward to have their spiritual roots measured. Most of the wealthy children exhibited double or triple spiritual roots, a testament to their privileged upbringing and access to superior resources. Their clans had clearly invested heavily in ensuring that only the most talented among them would be presented at this ceremony. Those who lacked strong spiritual roots were either excluded from the event or, in the harshest of cases, removed from their clans altogether—some even reduced to slavery.

  "Toran Samur, age 11 years old, triple spiritual root: Earth 70%, Wood 65%, Fire 50%, Passed."

  The crowd buzzed with approval as the boy rejoined his group, his face flushed with pride. The wealthy children were performing well, just as expected.

  Then, a boy who looked no different from the others in his fancy clothes approached the orb. He placed his hands on it, and the orb's light intensified, drawing gasps from the crowd.

  "Roran Lareth, age 9 years old, single spiritual root: Fire 90% purity," the immortal announced.

  Excited chatter broke out immediately. A single spiritual root, especially with such high purity, was exceedingly rare. Sect representatives began clamoring to recruit the boy, their voices overlapping in fervent competition.

  “Young Roran, join our sect! We offer the best resources!”

  “Our sect guarantees your future success!”

  Rinne, standing quietly in the children's line, glanced toward Roran Lareth. His name was familiar to her—he was one of the righteous cultivators she had encountered in her previous life.

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  'I remember you. Back then, you were strong, but your strength was nothing against a well-laid trap.'

  Though powerful, he had been careless, ultimately falling to her poison. The memory stirred a mix of emotions in her as she recalled her dark past.

  ???

  In her second life, Rinne’s journey into the world of cultivation had started with cautious optimism.

  After gaining the ability to cultivate, she poured every ounce of her effort into training, determined to make up for her late start. Days and nights blurred as she immersed herself in rigorous practice, her progress fueled by sheer tenacity.

  She also took up alchemy and talisman crafting, skills that allowed her to support herself in the world of cultivators. However, her progress was slow due to her delayed entry into cultivation.

  When Rinne reached the 5th level of the Spirit Gathering stage, she began noticing something peculiar—and deeply unsettling. Her vitality, the very essence of her life force, was being drained in tiny, imperceptible amounts. At first, she dismissed it as exhaustion from her relentless training, but as the days passed, the depletion became undeniable. As she investigated, she discovered that others who had drunk the same strange water as she had were experiencing the same problem.

  The root cause was soon revealed—a Gu seed, a parasitic insect that acted as a pseudo-spiritual root.

  The seed enabled cultivation for those without natural spiritual roots, but it came at a steep price. Part of their vitality was devoured by the Gu to sustain itself, while the rest was siphoned to the cultivator who had distributed the seeds.

  Rinne, pragmatic as ever, considered it a fair deal—after all, the cultivator had given her the opportunity to practice. It was akin to a patent in her previous life, where one paid for the privilege of using someone else’s invention.

  However, not everyone shared her view. Many considered the use of Gu to be an evil practice, and eventually, the cultivator responsible was besieged by righteous forces. When the Gu parent was killed, all those who had consumed the child Gu suffered severe backlash.

  Fortunately, Rinne had anticipated this outcome.

  Months before, she had discreetly purchased a soul suppression technique, a rare method designed to subdue the Gu. When chaos erupted, she acted swiftly, channeling her energy into the suppression technique to kill the parasite within her.

  But the Gu did not die quietly. It fought back with ferocious intensity, unleashing a torrent of energy that ravaged her body from within. The counterattack left her gravely injured, her vitality nearly extinguished as she waged a desperate internal battle. After an agonizing struggle, she succeeded in eradicating the Gu, but the ordeal left her teetering on the brink of death.

  The aftermath was devastating. Rinne’s body, weakened from the ordeal, could no longer sustain cultivation with the method she had relied upon. Her progress came to an abrupt halt. As for the others who had consumed the seeds, the majority perished in the chaos, including some of the acquaintances she had made during her cultivation journey.

  That day marked the beginning of Rinne’s path as an evil cultivator.

  Her impression of the so-called righteous cultivators had soured, and she came to see them with a mixture of hatred and disdain.

  ???

  Among those who had participated in the siege was the boy with the single fire root—Roran Lareth.

  As she watched him now, Rinne realized something profound. The anger and hatred that had once driven her, fueling her path as an evil cultivator, had long since dissipated.

  '...Now, I don’t feel the same hatred I once did.'

  Rinne sighed inwardly.

  She had lived through two lifetimes, and the intense emotions that once controlled her had faded. The desire for revenge, the bitterness toward the righteous cultivators, all of it seemed distant now, like a shadow from another time.

  Rinne found that she did not hate Roran or any of the others who had been part of the siege. They had simply been doing what they believed was right, just as she had done what she felt was necessary to survive.

  In fact, when she reflected on her past actions, she knew she was far from innocent. The things she had done as an evil cultivator were dark and terrible, and in many ways, she had been just as much a villain as those who had hunted her.

  The hatred that once burned so fiercely within her had been replaced by a deep sense of understanding and acceptance. She no longer saw herself as a victim, nor did she view those who opposed her as mere enemies. They were all players in the same complex game, each trying to navigate the harsh realities of the cultivation world.

  But now, all Rinne wanted was to stay inconspicuous and hidden. She had no desire to draw attention to herself, nor did she care about the ongoing conflicts between righteous and evil cultivators.

  Her knowledge, accumulated over two lifetimes, was more than enough to support herself comfortably without resorting to robbery or other nefarious means. The world could continue its endless cycle of battles and bloodshed—Rinne would simply watch from the shadows, uninterested in playing any further role in it.

  Her lips curled into a faint smile.

  'Let the world continue without me. I’ll find my place in the shadows, where I can live in peace.'

  Rinne straightened her posture, resolving to blend in as best as she could among the other children. She had no desire to stand out, no interest in the rewards that cultivation might bring. Her path was different now—a path of quiet, inconspicuous survival.

  ???

  The ceremony continued, and after the wealthy children had their turn, it was time for the poorer kids to be tested. Unlike the wealthy children, the poorer ones didn’t have surnames.

  To distinguish between children with the same first name, the announcers used their father's name. For those who didn't know their father's name, the tool integrated a simple divination method to identify it. For some, this was the first time they learned who their father was, though the revelation brought little comfort.

  However, as expected, the results for these children were mostly poor.

  “Jarin, child of Rurik, 9 years old, four spiritual roots, low purity, passed.”

  There was a murmuring of relief among the crowd—at least Jarin had a chance, even if it was a small one. But then came the failures, the ones without any spiritual roots.

  “No spiritual root, failed.”

  “No spiritual root, failed.”

  The announcer’s tone was flat as he delivered the results.

  Those who were declared to have no spiritual roots could only stepped back into the crowd in regret, heads bowed, knowing they had no place in the cultivation world.. They were destined to live as powerless mortals with a short lifespan.

  The air in the arena seemed heavy with the weight of unfulfilled dreams, the collective gaze of the crowd heavy with judgment and pity.

  “Lona, child of Garel, 8 years old, five spiritual roots, low purity, passed.”

  For those with four or five spiritual roots and low purity, he didn’t bother mentioning the specific percentages.

  Everyone knew that even if they passed, their position within a sect would never compare to those with double, triple, or single spiritual roots. Most of them would likely be eliminated during the second or third test, relegated to the role of handymen in whatever sect they could find.

  Finally, it was Rinne’s turn.

  Rinne stepped forward, her expression calm as she stretched out her hand toward the orb. The announcer noticed her hand was bandaged but didn’t think much of it. As she touched the orb, she immediately simulated the spiritual energies of fire, water, wood, and earth within herself, just as she had planned.

  “Rinne, child of Faron, 7 years old, four spiritual roots, low purity, passed,”

  Rinne’s lips curled into a small smile.

  'It worked.'

  After she regressed to her third life, Rinne had carefully designed a plan to attend the recruitment ceremony and pass the spiritual root test. As soon as she turned seven, she left her home, smuggling herself onto a merchant caravan passing through the village where she was born. She nearly starved for a week until the caravan reached Elaria, the closest town where the recruitment would take place.

  Unfortunately, when she arrived in Elaria, she couldn’t find any work.

  Being so young and dirty, no one was willing to hire her, fearing she would bring trouble. Still, some kind-hearted people gave her food, though they shooed her away afterward. Rinne survived by begging and killing rats for a few months until the recruitment day arrived.

  'Surviving is what I’m good at...'

  Rinne thought, recalling those difficult months.

  As for passing the spiritual root test, she had relied on a blood talisman. It was a shortened version of the evil blood sacrifice talisman, which could be activated even by mortals, but required the user's vitality as fuel.

  She had painstakingly drawn a complex symbol on a parched rat skin using rat blood. When the talisman was complete, she hid it inside the bandage on her hand, ready to be activated with a thought.

  The talisman didn’t perform any miraculous feat—it simply extracted a small amount of vital energy from a living creature and converted it into spiritual energy of four attributes. The target was herself.

  Why not five attributes? Simple. The skin didn’t have enough room.

  The amount of vitality the talisman absorbed was small, which was why the tool detected it as low-purity roots. But it was enough to pass, and Rinne wasn’t about to waste any more of her vitality.

  With the first test behind her, Rinne quietly joined the group of children with four and five spiritual roots. She kept her head down, avoiding eye contact with the others.