The mask trembled under the pressure of the Guardian's grip. Although there was no sign of cracks and rifts, Ocelia could feel the suppressing power emitting from the hand, causing her breathing to turn stagnant.

In her point of view, the white interior of the mask slowly enveloped her vision, increasing in size every passing moment. Despite her utmost struggle, Ocelia could not do anything except watching as the mask gently rested upon her face, covering it flawlessly without any useless part.

As if someone had modelled the mask according to her face, it had the same shape as her face. No one would know if the Guardian had the same appearance as Ocelia or that it changed its structure to match its owner.

Upon the contact, many miniature tentacles emerged from the surface of it, fusing with her facial skin. Ocelia could feel the itchy sensation ran through her face as she gained control over a new part of her body.

While maintaining the connection, the rune of sun and moon on the mask slowly emitted Ice and Fire Element, supplying the process of merging and helping Ocelia increased her sorcery mastery. However, not everything that it gave to her was beneficial to her.

By increasing her power rapidly, Ocelia might lose control over her inner Elements circulation, generating a chaotic backflow of energy, damaging her organs and possibly her soul. Once the process of inheriting the power of the Guardian was complete, her body would experience the total conversion into the Elemental Lifeform, restricting the growth of her soul, resulting in a stagnant sorcery mastery.

No matter how strong one was, if one could not control it, that strength would someday betray its owner. If one forcefully raised their cultivation, they would lack their experience and naturally lost to the cunning enemies who tempered their mind under the passage of time.

Before Ocelia decided to bet with her life to overcome the suppressing power and stopped the ritual, the hall that stood in silence began to glow in colour. The majestic light descended before Ocelia and maintained its distance from her, floating above her head while observing her condition.

Like rain, the light dissipated into countless smaller streams and washed down onto her. Wherever the light travelled through, it would dispel the itchiness from her body, restoring her hard statue-like exterior into its alive fleshy skin. The wave of bright glow would only occasionally help Ocelia sustained her body condition as it would be worse in the long run if she relied on too much external help.

Realising that the hall was helping her get rid of the conversion, Ocelia finally stopped damaging herself and let the process took its course. After all, she did not mind having more power if it didn't have significant defects or hidden traps. As the Guardian and the Tower were overwhelmingly powerful, they did not have any reason to plot against the lowly first-ranked sorcerer, let alone the one whom they deemed the Chosen Ones.

From the outside perspective, one would see that the mask gradually sank into her face, merging into Ocelia's look, regaining her previous appearance while hiding her real features under the invisible veil. One could see the significant change in her aura, fluctuating from hot-blooded to indifference.

In her realm of consciousness, beside her vague soul and a reflection of a vast flaming touch, a silhouette of a mask floated below it. However, before it could touch the soul, an invisible force jumped towards it and attempted to devour it. Its shape was that of a circular rune, having luminous symbols on its surface with only two of them unlit.

Despite its majestic, the rune just ran past through the shadowy mask, allowing it to assimilate into the soul. The weak soul shook while experiencing a weird yet unnoticeable change.

Unnoticed by herself, a unique fragrance started to cover Ocelia's body, coming out from her very soul. With it carried the subtle reminder of her identity, hinting at the novel being she had become, half-human-half-Elemental.

Little by little, along with her soul, Ocelia's body began to change, improving in quality.

...

The green-robed figure shook its robe lightly before pointing its finger at a faint little girl, making her floated towards him. It then gestured its hand, creating a white wooden box out of thin air and threw it at another figure opposite of it.

The figure wore a loose robe with the colour of the calm sky, catching the box and watched as the green monster swiftly departed, and after his enemy past the boundary of the horizon, he looked at the male mortal who was trying to crawl towards his wife.

With a flick of his finger, he froze the man whose eyes were full of despair and death before carrying him away. He could not wait to experiment with his new-found material. It was not easy for him to find such high-quality despair.

As the blue-robed man dragged a frozen statue of a middle-aged man away, a figure appeared before the forgotten female mortal, who was lying onto the crumbled ruin, unconscious and at the entrance of the death realm.

The figure gazed onto her beautiful yet pale face, struggling whether he should extend his hand to caress it or not. He felt ashamed and guilt as he could not prevent these two mighty sorcerers from stealing everything he loved.

In the past tens of loops, Forus had already tried everything to protect the family from encountering this tragedy. However, his power was insignificant, only reaching the lower realm of the first-ranked. No matter how hard he tried, he would get annihilated after lasting for a minute, and all of his family would follow suit afterwards.

Even more than that, his heart got shattered the moment he gazed upon his wife's face. Because of the String of Fate and the extreme method of swapping body with someone stronger, a portion of his memory became missing. Before he could realise it, he couldn't remember the appearance of Meria, his only wife.

Not everything would go as expected. When Forus swapped body with Ocelia, he didn't know any better and thought that the property of his grey soul would help him. As a result, like a fool, he could not even realise that he had lost something precious. Instead, he was thinking about marrying another maiden.

Leading to the conclusion, Forus couldn't bring himself to rest his finger upon her, feeling uncomfortable as if thousands of eyes were staring at his bare body. They were judging him, ridiculing his stupidity.

Some might say that time would heal all wounds. However, nothing was perfect, and time would sometimes leave behind an ugly scar. Those scars were often too hideous to recall. Worse, time could also create wounds of loneliness and expanded wounds of regret.

Revisiting his memory caused his wound of regret to expand, hurting him mentally and tortured his mind. In the end, it required tens of failure and struggles for him to lose all his strength. Although his physical body was full of energy, his soul had exhausted itself, becoming tired and lifeless.

When soul aged, no matter how strong one was, they would slowly rot overtime, unable to do anything. The same principle applied to the exhaustion of the soul. If it had no strength left, no matter how one tried to move the body, it wouldn't budge.

Watching his memory shattered into fragments, Forus could do nothing except standing still and lamented in his failure. Although he knew that he had completed and could step forth away from the last step, landing onto the Tower of Succession, he could not bring himself to do so.

The moment he left Burial Mind Lane would be the last time he could face his past, and he could not know if this was the last chance for him. Just the thoughts of leaving his wife alone were heartbreaking, and what if he forgot about it? Forgot that his first wife existed just like how he forgot about her appearance?

However, as if his body was not under his control, he absentmindedly walked out from the fog, departing from the collection of his past, leaving the misery behind. The ugly scars on his memory silently submerged into his soul, reminding him of his fate as a failure.

As he lost in his thought, the scenery before him quietly changed. From the previous hazy fog into the depressing hall, lacking in light and immersing in darkness.

After a long while, Forus slowly stood up. He gripped his chest while the imaginary pain stabbed his heart. However, despite its mind-crumbling level of lethality, Forus held onto the scar inside his memory tightly. He did not wish for it to subside and vanish from his body.

The agony was his driving force, pushing him towards the taller heights, and it was one of his motivation to ascend towards the higher peak to reclaim all that was once his. It was also a punishment, reminding him of his failure, both as a father and a husband.

Losing the sensation of pain was akin to losing his motivation. Losing meant forgetting, and if he ever forgot about his past again, how could he move forwards?

Struggling to stand up, Forus used his sorcery energy to survey the area. While he was feeling the structure of the hall, his sorcery energy detected something else. It was a figure of an unknown person, resting on the floor, unconscious.

Like an electric shock, the feeling travelled through his heart, telling him the identity of the person without having to lay his eyes upon her. The faint pulsing of the resonance sorcery energy within his body and the Ring of Recollection gave away her vague location and distance.

Stumbling towards Ocelia, Forus madly shouted her name as he quickly held her in his arms. Only after checking her overall condition and determined that she was safe, could he calm his heart and lay her back again, letting her had a long deserved rest.

Although her body became different than before, releasing a distinct fragrance which could calm his mind, Forus did not find any dangerous substance within. If the mysterious rewards could help her progress, he would not stop and question it. He respected her decision.

If he could see, the dazzling threads of hair would have already captured his attention. It had the colour of azure sky and sunset, and the shades would shift from red to blue, blue to red in a constant rhythm.

Due to her resting posture, her hair spread across the marble floor, forming a sea of shifting mood, from the night-blue to dawn-red. With a doll-like maiden resting in the middle, guarded by a silver-haired knight on whose lap she slept.

Although the candles in the hall were unlit, the darkness didn't seem to be depressing as before. Instead, it was the night veil that whispered in dream language, comforting the sleeping lady in her rest. With her love beside her, she subconsciously relaxed and drifted afar into the land of bubbles.

...

Standing above the giant corpse, Glacies heavily panted while Abicel was cutting open the skin of the monster. The stronger the monster they battled, the better the quality of its inner organs and flesh would be. As one of the alchemists, she would not let any of the precious ingredients went to waste.

While she was making a fortune, Glacies didn't do anything, and Avidas also couldn't do anything if the young master didn't order him to do so. Glacies knew that Abicel would naturally gift him a part of her fortune, and if he wanted to maintain his aloofness, he must not participate in such dirty and unfulfilling acts.

"Mister Glacies, I'm ready to go." After collecting all of the precious material and having some rest, the trio finally approached the Door of Hope.

When the last monster died, the rune on the surface of the door shone, and the door opened itself, creating a little gap. Just like what they had predicted, the mechanism of the door was for the challengers to complete all of their tests before gaining their reward.

Avidas' eyes flashed for a moment after his gaze fell upon the lost language on the gate, revealing a hint of determination and madness. His hand kept caressing a ring he newly acquired.

The ring was worn down by the passage of time, resembling the ordinary ring that mortals had. However, within it, a hint of Death Aura steadily flowed outwards before dissipating into thin air.