novelsite Chapter 24: The Beginning of the Inheritance
Chapter 24: The Beginning of the Inheritance
Deep within the Monster Mountain Range, in a secluded valley, Lin Yun found a naturally formed cave.
The cave entrance was hidden by vines and bushes; if it weren't for Beibei's keen sense of smell, he would never have discovered it. The entrance was narrow, allowing only one person to pass sideways, but once inside, the space opened up—a stone chamber about ten feet square, with several cracks in the ceiling through which faint light shone, illuminating a flat rock in the center of the chamber.
"This is it." Lin Yun looked around and nodded in satisfaction.
The stone chamber was located deep within the Monster Mountain Range, far from the main passages, and there were no traces of high-level magical beasts nearby. Most importantly, the rocks here contained a special mineral that could subtly isolate magical energy from leaking out. While not 100% safe, it was the best place he could find.
Beibei jumped off his shoulder, circled the stone chamber, sniffed around with its little nose, and then chirped twice, as if to say, "This is nice."
Lin Yun smiled, took out several crystal cores from his spatial ring, and set up a warning spell at the entrance of the cave. He would sense any person or magical beast approaching immediately. Then, he set up several simple concealment arrays around the stone chamber to minimize the spread of the undead aura.
Everything is ready.
Lin Yun sat cross-legged on the rock in the center of the stone chamber and took out the black stone tablet from his spatial ring.
The stone tablet was only the size of a palm, slightly cool to the touch, with a rough, uneven surface covered with densely packed, tiny runes. These runes didn't resemble any known writing system; rather, they were some kind of ancient marking, emitting a faint black glow in the dim stone chamber.
That kind of black was peculiar—not the somber black of dark magic, but a deep, almost suffocating black that seemed to devour all light. Staring at it for too long could give one the illusion that their soul was being sucked in.
Beibei seemed somewhat wary of the stone tablet. It jumped off Lin Yun's shoulder, squatted in the corner of the stone chamber, stared at the stone tablet with its little eyes, and made a low hissing sound.
"It's alright, Beibei," Lin Yun reassured her. "Just keep watch at the cave entrance for me."
"Chirp chirp." Beibei chirped, turned around and ran to the cave entrance, squatted on a rock, and watched the outside world warily.
Lin Yun took a deep breath, placed the stone tablet in front of him, closed his eyes, and slowly probed into it with his spiritual power.
The moment Lin Yun's mental energy touched the stone tablet, his consciousness was suddenly pulled into a strange space.
It was an endless darkness.
It wasn't the darkness of night, but an absolute, pure darkness, devoid of any light. Lin Yun felt as if he had sunk to the bottom of the deep sea, surrounded by endless water pressure that squeezed his consciousness.
Then, something began to flow in the darkness.
It was neither wind nor water, but something more fundamental—the power of death. Like an invisible river, it flowed slowly in the darkness, silent and omnipresent. Lin Yun's consciousness was drawn into it, drifting forward with the river of death power.
He saw death.
It wasn't a specific scene of death, but death itself—the end of all things, the end of life. He saw flowers wither in autumn, wild beasts die in the cold winter, old people breathe their last on their beds, and warriors fall on the battlefield, their blood soaking the earth. Countless images of death surged forth like a tide, each one breathtakingly real.
Lin Yun felt his consciousness being torn apart.
The pain, despair, and resentment in those images of death were like countless sharp blades, cutting into his soul. He wanted to scream, but no sound came out; he wanted to escape, but there was nowhere to run. The river of death's power swept him away, flowing deeper into the abyss.
Then, he saw the other side of death.
Withered flowers bloom anew in spring, dead beasts turn into soil to nourish new life, the souls of the elderly leave their decaying bodies, and the blood of warriors makes the land more fertile. Death is not the end, but rather the beginning of another form.
Lin Yun suddenly remembered what Delin had said.
"The rule of death is one of the three supreme rules. It does not govern destruction, but reincarnation. All things that are born must die, and only through death can there be life. Death is not the opposite of life, but a part of life."
At that moment, he vaguely grasped the essence of the rules of death.
The river of death no longer tormented him. He began to distinguish the different tributaries—some were pure endings, some were processes of transformation, and some were the final resting place of the soul. Each tributary corresponded to an aspect of the rules of death, and each contained infinite mysteries.
After an unknown amount of time—perhaps a few days, perhaps a few weeks—Lin Yun emerged from that strange state.
He opened his eyes and found himself drenched in cold sweat, but his mind was unusually clear.
The black light on the stone tablet seemed to have dimmed somewhat.
"This is the rule of death..." Lin Yun murmured, a hint of understanding flashing in his eyes.
The legacy continues.
After resting briefly, Lin Yun once again probed the stone tablet with his spiritual power. This time, what he saw was not a river of death power, but souls.
soul.
The most mysterious part of a person is their soul.
From the perspective of the rules of death, the soul is no longer an abstract concept, but an existence that can be perceived, analyzed, and even touched. Lin Yun "saw" his own soul—a sphere formed by countless points of light, each point representing a memory, an emotion, or an experience. The points of light were connected by energy lines as thin as spider silk, forming an extremely complex network.
His soul was brighter and more solid than that of ordinary people. The points of light were dense and orderly, and the energy lines were thick and resilient. This was the result of three lifetimes of accumulation, and also the result of the tempering by the small cauldron.
At the core of his soul lies an even more dazzling light—his true self, the source of all memories and emotions, and the very essence of why "Lin Yun" is Lin Yun.
The power of inheritance within the stone tablet began to guide him, teaching him how to perceive the soul, how to touch the soul, and how to influence the soul.
He learned "soul perception"—to project his soul power outward and sense the existence of other souls within a certain range. This perception is deeper than the exploration of mental power; it can not only see the location and strength of a soul, but also sense its emotions, fragments of memory, and even the "color" of the soul—a kind soul is a warm color, an evil soul is a cold dark color, and the soul of an undead creature is a deathly gray.
He learned "Soul Soothing"—using the power of the soul to touch another soul and calm its pain and chaos. This technique is especially effective against undead creatures, as most are driven by resentment, and soothing their resentment can weaken or even destroy them.
He also learned the "Soul Barrier"—constructing a defensive line with his own soul power to resist external soul attacks. This was a lesson he learned in his battle with Morton, and now he finally had a systematic method.
These are just the basics.
The inscription on the stone tablet told him that, when necromancy is mastered to a high level, one can even perform "soul extraction"—extracting the soul of the deceased from the corpse—or "soul refining"—refining the extracted soul into pure soul power for absorption. This is the necromancer's most powerful, and also their most dangerous, method. Throughout history, all the powerful necromancers have rapidly increased their strength by absorbing the souls of others.
However, the tradition also carries a stern warning: absorbing the souls of others will impure one's own soul, corrupting it with the resentment of the dead. Only necromancers with extremely powerful souls and unwavering wills can wield this power. To attempt it rashly will only turn one into a mindless undead.
Lin Yun doesn't plan to take this path for the time being. He has chosen another path—to allow his soul to grow naturally by comprehending the rules of death. This path is slower, but safer and purer.
After mastering the basics of using the soul, the inheritance enters the next stage—the summoning and enslavement of the undead.
This is the most well-known method of necromancers, and also the most rudimentary manifestation of the rules of death.
Necromancer summoning is the act of communicating with the Netherworld through the power of the soul, summoning its creatures to the mortal realm. The Netherworld is the highest plane under the rules of death, the final resting place for the souls of all the dead. There dwell countless undead creatures—from the most common skeletons and ghouls to powerful undead knights, bone dragons, and even the legendary undead lords.
The key to summoning lies in the strength of one's soul power and the depth of one's understanding of the rules of death. The stronger one's soul power, the higher the level of the undead that can be summoned; the deeper one's understanding of the rules of death, the more stable the summoning process will be, and the more obedient the summoned undead will be.
When Lin Yun first tried to summon, he only managed to summon the lowest-level skeleton soldier. It was a humanoid creature pieced together from a few bones, with faint necromantic flames flickering in its eye sockets. It could barely stand and would fall apart after taking a few steps.
He didn't give up. He tried again and again, and failed again and again. Fallen skeletons, rotting corpses, zombies missing limbs... After each failure, he would carefully analyze the reasons—was the output of his soul power not stable enough? Was his understanding of the rules of death not deep enough? Was the summoning incantation pronounced incorrectly?
By the second month, he was finally able to reliably summon a level six corpse demon.
The corpse demon was more intact than the one he had encountered in the Monster Mountain Range. Its grayish-white skin was covered with a thin layer of bone armor, and the undead fire in its eye sockets was even brighter. It stood motionless in front of Lin Yun, awaiting his command.
"Attack," Lin Yun gave the first order.
The corpse demon swung its claws, leaving three deep claw marks on the stone wall.
"Defense." The second command.
The corpse demon retracted its claws, crouched down, and turned its bone armor toward the direction Lin Yun indicated.
"Disappear." The third command.
The corpse demon's body transformed into a gray light and vanished into thin air—it was sent back to the Netherworld.
Lin Yun nodded in satisfaction.
Undead enslavement is another branch.
Undead enslavement doesn't summon creatures from the Netherworld; instead, it involves crafting undead creatures from the corpses of the dead in the mortal realm. Corpse monsters, zombies, and skeleton soldiers—these are all products of undead enslavement. Compared to undead summoning, undead enslavement's advantage lies in its ability to mass-produce creatures without continuously consuming soul power to maintain its existence; its disadvantage is that the created undead creatures are weaker than summoned undead of the same level and require corpses as materials.
Lin Yun wasn't in a hurry to try necromancy. Firstly, he didn't have any ready-made corpses to experiment with; secondly, he felt that necromancy involved binding the souls of the dead, which was morally unacceptable. Perhaps he would use it later, but not now.
The event lasted for nearly three months.
For the past three months, Lin Yun had lived almost entirely in seclusion. Each day, besides meditating to restore his physical and mental strength, he studied the inherited knowledge on the stone tablet or practiced various techniques of necromancy. Every day, Beibei would go out hunting and bring back small animals like rabbits and pheasants, placing them in front of him.
His understanding of the rules of death underwent a qualitative leap in those three months.
Initially, he thought death was the end. Later, he thought death was part of reincarnation. Now, he has a deeper understanding—death is not a passive acceptance of the end, nor is it simply reincarnation. Death is a power, a power that can be understood, used, and even controlled.
Just as life has vitality, death also has the power of death. The power of death is neither evil nor dark. It is simply a force, neutral like the forces of fire, water, and wind. The key lies in the person who wields it.
And the soul is the core of the rules of death.
The summoning and enslavement of the undead in necromancy are merely the most rudimentary manifestations of the rules of death. They are like fireballs and wind blades in the seven elements of magic—introductory techniques. The true mystery of the rules of death lies in the soul itself.
What is the soul? Where does it come from? Where does it go? Why can it carry memories and emotions? Why can it cultivate and grow? The basic theories of necromancy only have vague answers to these questions, but through inheritance, Lin Yun began to have his own understanding.
The soul is the projection of life onto the rules of death.
Every life, from the moment of birth, leaves a projection within the rules of death. This projection records everything about life—memories, emotions, experiences, and will. When life ends, this projection detaches from the body, becomes an independent soul, and returns to the embrace of the rules of death.
Therefore, when necromancy is mastered to a high level, it can achieve things far beyond what ordinary people can imagine—not just summoning or enslaving the dead, but touching the essence of the soul and even altering its trajectory.
Of course, that's a long, long time from now.
Lin Yun is only at the very beginning.
The light on the stone tablet had completely dimmed. It was no longer the deep black that seemed to devour all light, but had become an ordinary black stone, and the runes on its surface had become blurred.
The transmission continues, but the most crucial part has ended. What remains is for him to understand and practice on his own.
Lin Yun put the stone tablet back into his spatial ring and stood up.
His body was somewhat stiff from sitting cross-legged for so long, but his soul was several times stronger than it had been three months ago. His soul power was more solid, and his understanding of the rules of death was more profound.
More importantly, he gained a completely new understanding of the soul itself—an understanding that was not knowledge from books, but a realization etched deep within the soul.
Beibei ran over from the cave entrance, jumped onto his shoulder, rubbed her little head against his cheek, and chirped twice, her voice filled with concern.
"I'm fine." Lin Yun patted its little head and smiled. "I feel great."
He walked to the cave entrance and looked at the gray sky outside. Mist shrouded the mountains and forests, obscuring the distant scenery. But he knew that everything he needed was in this mountain range—quiet, seclusion, and freedom from the eyes and ears of the Holy See.
He still has so much to digest and so many insights to reflect upon.
The stone tablet's legacy only gave him a key; the real path still required him to walk it step by step on his own.
Lin Yun turned around and went back into the stone chamber, sat down cross-legged, and closed his eyes.
Beibei curled up beside him, her little body rising and falling, and soon fell asleep.
The stone chamber returned to silence, with only the occasional chirping of insects coming from outside the cave and the faint light remaining on the stone tablet.
The tradition has ended.
But the real cultivation has only just begun.