Chapter 80: The Golden Road

The transition was violent and absolute.

In the blink of an eye, Ethan found himself standing in a realm bathed in blinding, unearthly golden light. Beneath his boots stretched a wide, flawless golden road that extended straight forward into infinity, perfectly level and seemingly devoid of any endpoint. To his left and right, colossal walls of shimmering orange-gold energy towered into the sky. Through the translucent walls, he could clearly perceive identical golden roads stretching out parallel to his own, with shadowy figures standing upon them at regular intervals.

Looking around, he realized he was part of a massive array of parallel pathways, resembling a cosmic starting grid where countless competitors were about to embark on a synchronized race.

*’An inheritance trial spatial construct,’* Ethan thought instantly, his brow furrowing as he tried to gather his bearings.

He instinctively reached inward, attempting to summon his *Flame Fairy* from his mind’s sea. But as his consciousness brushed against his spiritual core, a cold, heavy barrier bounced him back. The connection to his mind’s sea was entirely severed.

Alarmed, Ethan tried to call upon the system interface.

No red or blue holographic screens flickered into existence. No diagnostic text, no status windows, and no notification pop-ups appeared. The system—his most reliable pillar of power across both lives—had been completely cut off.

*’Cut off? How is that even possible?’* A rare wave of shock washed over him. Even high-tier spatial domain arrays or pre-cataclysm divine seals shouldn’t have been able to completely isolate a system bound directly to his soul’s root.

Around him, the other figures standing on the parallel roads began to move forward. However, after taking only a few steps, every single one of them abruptly froze in place, unable to advance another inch.

Curious, Ethan took a tentative step forward.

He walked precisely ten paces. On the tenth step, the golden world around him shattered like glass.

***

The golden road vanished, replaced instantly by the claustrophobic walls of a cramped, dimly lit bedroom reeking of stale medicine and bitter herbs.

On a narrow wooden bed lay a woman. Her skin was a pale, sickly shade of violet, her chest rising and falling in shallow, agonizing gasps as a lethal monster-venom ravaged her body. It was a memory from his earliest childhood—the day his mother had died when he was only five years old.

Across the room stood his younger brother, little Arthur, whimpering softly. Their father stood nearby, his face haggard and tear-streaked, holding Arthur back by the shoulder.

"Don’t come near your mother," their father choked out, his voice trembling. "The poison... you might catch it too."

The dying woman turned her heavy, glazed eyes toward the corner where five-year-old Ethan stood silently watching.

"Arthur..." she whispered weakly, lifting a trembling, purple-stained hand. "Arthur, come here..."

Little Arthur recoiled in terror, retreating behind their father’s legs, obeying the warning out of pure fear.

Only Ethan stepped forward.

His father reached out a desperate hand. "Stop, Ethan! Don’t go near her!"

Ethan ignored him. Walking up to the bedside, he gently pulled a clean cloth from the bedside table, wrapped it around his small hand, and tenderly grasped his mother’s icy, venom-corroded fingers.

Believing it was Arthur holding her hand, a serene, heartbreaking smile touched the dying woman’s lips. "My dear boy, Arthur..."

She used her last ounce of strength to pull a simple, dull red stone from her necklace, pressing it into Ethan’s wrapped palm. "Keep this stone with you for five years... never let it out of your sight. It is my most precious treasure... it will help you in the future..."

Her hand slipped, dropping limply onto the blanket as her breath finally faded away.

Right beside Ethan, the younger Arthur suddenly lunged forward, his eyes fixed on the red stone. Snatching it roughly out of Ethan’s hand, little Arthur clutched it to his chest, glaring defensively. "This is mine!"

As Ethan looked down at his empty hand, a faint, melancholic smile touched his lips in the vision—unaware at the time that this very stone harbored the Red Fairy, and that his mother had unknowingly gifted the greatest treasure of her life to the wrong son.

*FZZZ—!*

The illusion dissolved, only to instantly reform. The exact same scene played out from the very beginning.

Again. And again. And again.

One hundred times, the agonizing memory of his mother’s death looped with unyielding precision, burning every detail into his soul until the hundredth iteration finally collapsed into silence.

A cold, disembodied voice echoed directly inside his consciousness, carrying a heavy, oppressive spiritual weight:

*"Along this golden path, the deepest griefs and darkest memories of your life shall be laid bare. If you possess no suffering of your own, you shall bear witness to mine. Do you accept the burden of this path?"*

Ethan stood stunned for a moment. Then, without uttering a single word in reply, he simply started walking forward again.

*One, two, three... ten.*

On the tenth step, the golden light warped once more.

***

The scenery shifted violently.

This time, he was a young man in his late teens, managing the sprawling estates of the Sterling Mansion after successfully graduating from the academy. It was late evening. Exhausted from a grueling day of business ledgers, he walked down the corridor toward his fiancée Serafina’s chambers, intending to check on her before retiring.

As he neared her door, he noticed it was unlatched, cracked open by a few inches.

Pushing the door open, Ethan froze. The sight inside was a waking nightmare.

Serapfina lay across a wrecked bed, completely naked, her body covered in raw red bruises, purple bite marks, and horrific signs of violent abuse. Her face was stained with tears, her breath coming in shallow, broken hitches.

Standing right beside the bed, casually buttoning his trousers, was **Kael**.

Kael turned his head, spotting Ethan standing in the doorway. A wide, mocking grin spread across Kael’s face. "Oh, Ethan. I didn’t notice you there. When did you arrive?"

Kael chuckled darkly, shaking his head. "I must say, it’s quite pathetic that a beauty like Serapfina was still untouched by you. You really are a useless, incompetent fool, you know that?"

Blood rushed to Ethan’s ears. A towering, incandescent rage obliterated his rational thought.

With a roar of fury, Ethan thrust his hand forward, instantly conjuring a blazing *Flame Ball* spell and hurling it straight at Kael’s chest.

Kael merely smirked. Activating his innate *Stone-Fish Bloodline*, his skin instantly turned a dull, armored grey, hardening his body to the density of granite. The flaming orb struck Kael squarely, bursting into a harmless puff of smoke that left not a single scratch on his skin.

Before Ethan could cast another spell, Kael closed the distance with terrifying speed. A massive, stone-hard fist slammed directly into Ethan’s stomach with bone-crushing force.

*CRACK!*

Ethan coughed up a mouthful of dark blood, flying backward across the room. He crashed violently through a heavy oak wardrobe, smashing into the stone wall behind it before collapsing onto the floor in a heap. Hot blood poured from a laceration on his forehead, blurring his vision as agony lanced through his entire body.

"Stay down, loser," Kael sneered, stepping over Ethan’s broken form and walking out of the room laughing.

The memory bled forward: Rose Sterling, manipulated by Lumian, casting Ethan out of the mansion and stripping him of everything. Serafina fleeing into the night with Lumian...

*FZZZ—!*

The illusion shattered, restarting from the moment he opened the bedroom door.

Again. And again.

Thousands of times, the horrific betrayal repeated itself, subjecting his mind to an endless loop of helpless fury and agonizing torment.

When the thousandth iteration finally faded, Ethan found himself standing once more upon the endless golden road.

The disembodied voice returned, dripping with cold curiosity:

*"I have witnessed your memories. They are... profoundly agonizing, far beyond what ordinary mortals endure. Though many have walked this path, few carry such bottomless hatred. Do you truly wish to continue walking? The memories that await you further ahead are far more cruel than anything you have seen thus far."*

Ethan raised his head. His crimson-tinged eyes burned with an icy, terrifying intensity. He looked up into the formless golden void above.

"You aren’t testing me," Ethan said, his voice low, steady, and laden with a murderous frost that could freeze the stars. "You are simply reminding me of the names of the people I need to slaughter... and the slow, agonizing torments I must inflict upon them."

He took a slow, deliberate breath.

"Keep reminding me. Give me all the pain, all the hatred, all the memories you can dredge up. In fact, if I wanted to, I could shatter this pathetic little trial and your crude illusions right now with a fraction of my true strength."

The voice in his head suddenly faltered, holding its breath.

"My trump cards and ultimate powers are far too precious to waste on a mindless trial remnant like you," Ethan continued coldly, a grim smile touching his lips. "And I certainly have no intention of letting your illusions break my resolve. You aren’t torturing me... you are simply sharpening my blade."

Silence descended upon the golden corridor. The voice did not answer. The oppressive spiritual pressure that had attempted to break his mind suddenly vanished, intimidated by the sheer, unyielding abyss of Ethan’s malice.

Without waiting for permission, Ethan took another step forward.

*One, two, three... ten.*

On the tenth step, his vision blurred once more.

This time, the memories of his past life rushed forward in an unyielding torrent:

* The bitter days of wandering with Serafina in a remote frontier village, only for a horde of demonic beasts to slaughter every kind-hearted villager who had taken them in.

* The agonizing, decades-long torture of his eighty-year-old body when he finally awakened the forbidden *Demonic Flame Demon Bloodline*, feeling his veins burn from the inside out.

* The endless, pitch-black years locked away in the imperial prison cells, enduring Arthur’s condescending taunts and hypocritical displays of sympathy right before execution, acting as though he had never done a single wrong thing in his life.

* Kael dragging Serapfina’s lifeless corpse into his cell, mocking him, before brutally mutilating and dissecting her body right in front of his eyes.

* Keklar clone stepping into the prison cell day after day, slowly and methodically draining every single drop of his demonic bloodline power out of his veins with crude, agonizing methods, letting him bleed out inch by inch.

Every drop of blood, every scar, every scream of his past life replayed in vivid, agonizing detail.

Yet, Ethan did not flinch. He did not scream. He absorbed every ounce of agony, transforming the dark memories into pure, concentrated fuel for his soul.

Step by step, enduring the weight of a thousand lifetimes of suffering, Ethan walked through the fire of his own past—until at long last, the golden road beneath his boots came to an absolute end.