The hidden city of the Black Lotus Guild unfolded before Max’s eyes like a vision from another world. It was one of the largest cities he had ever witnessed—so vast it stretched endlessly in every direction, its farthest edges swallowed by the horizon itself.
Unlike the radiant brilliance of Heaven City or the majestic splendor of the Great Ruler Empire, this city carried a different kind of magnificence. Its the was stark and striking: everything here was woven in shades of black and white. Towers, streets, and bridges glimred faintly under an artificial glow, their surfaces reflecting light like polished obsidian and marble. It felt like a city of night, eternal and silent, a place carved not for show but for shadow.
Yet despite its solemn aesthetic, the city pulsed with life. Armored cultivators walked its wide avenues, robed assassins vanished into alleyways, and groups of masked figures moved with perfect discipline, every step as precise as clockwork.
To Max, it was clear—this was not rely a city. It was a fortress in disguise, a sanctuary hidden from the eyes of the Middle Domain, built for one purpose: to shelter the most dangerous guild in existence.
But Max barely spared it a glance. His crimson eyes, sharp and determined, focused imdiately on the tallest structure in the city: the Inheritance Tower.
It rose above all else like a spear piercing the sky. Its design was different from other towers Max had seen—spiraling obsidian walls interlaced with glowing white inscriptions, as though runes themselves held it together. From afar, it radiated an oppressive aura, a pressure so great that even peak Legend Rank cultivators would hesitate to approach.
Old Saintess and Razel walked by his side, guiding him down the wide avenue that led straight toward the tower. They exchanged no words, for they could see the single-minded purpose in Max’s stride. He did not look left or right, did not admire or question the city around him. His entire being was aid at one goal.
At last, they arrived before the massive double doors of the tower. Black steel carved with dragon motifs lood before them, each line etched with ancient runes of blood. The doors were said to open only for those chosen by the Guild’s inheritance itself.
Old Saintess stepped forward, her wrinkled hands clasped together. Her voice was steady, but her eyes betrayed hope. "Go. From this mont forward, the inheritance will judge you. We all hope you succeed... that you can evolve the bloodline of all Black Lotus Guild mbers who dwell in the Middle Domain."
Razel, the current leader, crossed his arms but nodded firmly. His voice carried authority, yet also respect. "I hope you achieve success. If you do, Max... you will not just be the Guild’s hope. You will be our future."
Max t their gazes briefly. Then, with a silent nod, he turned and pushed the doors open. The runes glowed faintly, and the doors parted for him without resistance.
He entered.
The air inside was heavy, charged with ancient power. Just like the Inheritance Tower in the Lower Domain, this one too contained seven floors—seven trials of blood, soul, and destiny.
Max moved without hesitation. He passed the first floor, then the second, third, fourth... his aura flaring brighter with every step, the infernal energy swirling around him rging seamlessly with the guild’s dark inheritance.
At last, he ascended to the seventh floor.
Outside, Razel and Old Saintess waited, their gazes locked on the glowing runes that reflected Max’s progress.
And then—it happened.
"He... he truly reached the seventh floor!" Razel’s voice trembled, his composure shattering as shock spread across his face.
Never, in the long history of the Black Lotus Guild or its parent legacy, the Black Dragon Palace, had anyone ever reached the seventh floor of the inheritance tower in the Middle Domain. Not a single genius, no matter how talented, had crossed that line.
Razel had once scoffed when Old Saintess spoke of Max’s feat in the Lower Domain—that he had climbed to the very top, evolving the Guild’s bloodline itself. To him, it had sounded impossible, a myth born from exaggeration.
But now, as the seventh-floor runes glowed brightly, undeniable proof of Max’s ascension, Razel felt his breath catch.
The Old Saintess only smiled faintly, though her eyes misted with emotion. She had known. She had believed.
Razel whispered to himself, disbelief still shaking his voice. "So it’s true... he’s not just another genius. He awakened the nine-petal lotus in his very first Divine Path Lotus phenonon... and now this." His fists clenched unconsciously. "Perhaps... perhaps he really is the true deal."
The weight of Max’s destiny pressed down on them all.
Inside the tower, Max stood alone on the seventh floor, bathed in the inheritance’s dark light. His crimson eyes glowed faintly.
"You are here, Max."
The voice reverberated through the seventh floor, not with the echo of sound but as though it was spoken directly into his soul. Max’s crimson eyes narrowed as recognition flickered within him. The tower spirit—the sa one he had encountered in the Lower Domain.
He rembered it telling him that they would et again in the Middle Domain.
And now, here they were.
A sudden flutter of wings broke the stillness. From the void above, a parrot’s figure manifested, its feathers shimring faintly with threads of black and silver light. It swooped gracefully before settling across from Max, perching on a low pedestal. Its beady eyes glead with wisdom older than empires.
"Max," the parrot spirit spoke, its tone low, thoughtful. "You... have changed." Its gaze lingered on Max’s dark red hair and the ocean of infernal energy radiating from his body like a second skin.
Max stood tall, unflinching under its scrutiny. His voice was calm, steady, devoid of hesitation. "I have. I know that." His eyes sharpened. "Last ti I ca here, I received the true inheritance of the Black Dragon Palace. Tell —what is in it for this ti?"
The parrot spirit tilted its head slightly, studying him. It had seen many geniuses pass through countless towers across the world. But Max was different. The boy who had once been curious, radiant with youthful energy, was gone. What stood before it now was colder, sharper—a blade honed by tragedy and wrath.
"You get straight to the point now," the spirit observed. "Not like before."
Max didn’t respond and just gazed at him calmly.
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