Mortal: Starting with the Seven Mysterious Sects, I proved my Dao through sacrifice.

Master...please save Junior Brother Murong quickly...he sacrificed himself to protect us...I'm afraid he's already crippled!"

A disciple, covered in blood and dressed in rags, staggered into the main hall. Before he could finish speaking, he was exhausted and collapsed to his knees, his forehead slamming hard against the cold bluestone floor with a dull thud.

"What's the matter that you're so flustered that you've lost your composure?" Wang Juechu, the sect leader of the Seven Mysteries Sect, looked up sharply upon hearing the voice and reprimanded him sternly.

The speaker was none other than Wang Juechu himself. He was eight feet tall, his imposing figure accentuated by a long black robe, his thick beard adding to his imposing presence, and his face as cold and stern as if carved from stone. At this moment, his eyes were wide open, flashing with a sharp light: "What exactly did you mean by what you just said?"

"It was the Wild Wolf Gang... We were ambushed on our way back to the mountain..." The disciple struggled to lift his blood-stained face, tears mingling with blood. "Junior Brother Murong protected us, single-handedly covering our retreat, fighting dozens of wolf guards, sustaining seven knife wounds, his meridians... his meridians are probably severely damaged..."

"Damn it!" Wang Juechu roared in fury, slamming his hand on the sandalwood table beside him. The sturdy corner shattered with a crash. "How dare the Wild Wolf Gang bully my Seven Mysteries Sect like this!"

He strode down the steps, reached out to help his kneeling disciple to his feet, and said in a low, urgent voice, "Where is he now? Take him there immediately!"

……

Inside the side hall and wing rooms, a strong medicinal smell permeated the air.

A young boy lay on the bed, his face ashen, his eyes closed, his lips bloodless, and the white cloth wrapped around his chest soaked with dark red blood. Three elderly doctors with graying temples stood around the bed, shaking their heads and sighing from time to time, their expressions filled with undisguised regret and despair.

"Sect Master," the eldest physician turned and bowed, his face extremely solemn, "Although Junior Nephew Murong's external injuries are severe, they can still be treated gradually. However, his Ren and Du meridians have suffered devastating damage, and his internal energy has been dissipated. Even if his external injuries heal, I'm afraid... he will find it difficult to practice martial arts in the future."

Wang Juechu stood quietly in front of the bed, remaining silent for a long time.

He slowly sat down on the edge of the couch, extended his broad palm, and gently grasped the boy's cold hand. This boy was a child he had personally picked up from the foot of the mountain thirteen years ago and raised by his own hands. He was intelligent and resilient, and was one of his most promising disciples. Now, however, he had been reduced to a state of having all his meridians severed and becoming a cripple.

"Xiao Fan," Wang Juechu's voice was deep and firm, "Don't worry, even if I search the whole world for the finest medicines, I will definitely heal you."

As if hearing a familiar voice, the boy's long eyelashes trembled slightly, and he slowly opened his eyes a crack.

"...Master." His voice was so faint it was almost inaudible.

"Don't say anything more, just rest well." Wang Juechu tucked the blanket around him and said in a deep voice, "This time you risked your life to protect your fellow disciples and made a great contribution. Once your injuries have healed, I will personally teach you the most profound martial arts and sword techniques of our sect."

The boy managed to twitch his lips as if trying to express his gratitude, but ultimately his strength gave out, and his head lolled to the side as he fell into a deep sleep once more.

Wang Juechu slowly rose and solemnly instructed the physicians beside him, "Use the best medicinal herbs. If the ginseng and lingzhi in the storehouse are not enough, take them from my private storehouse." After saying this, he took a deep look at the bed and turned to leave.

The door creaked shut softly.

On the bed, Murong Fan, who should have been fast asleep, suddenly twitched his eyelids almost imperceptibly before slowly opening them.

Those eyes no longer held any trace of the previous weakness and confusion; instead, they held an abyss-like coldness and a sharp, knife-like light.

The Seven Mysteries Gate.

Wang Juechu.

The Wild Wolf Gang.

Murong Fan silently recited these words in his heart, and a bitter and complicated smile appeared on his lips.

Just in this moment of despair, a long-forgotten fragment of memory suddenly rushed into my mind—it was a broken jade slip I had found in the attic of my ancestral hall before my transmigration. It was inscribed with the words "All things have spirits, sacrifice is the way" in ancient seal script, and next to it was an altar pattern that vaguely resembled the strange phenomenon in my mind at this moment. At the time, I thought it was just the imagination of the ancients, but now I think that perhaps it was not unfounded.

These words resonated and echoed in his mind, like thunderclaps piercing through the chaos.

"I've actually been transported to the world of 'A Record of a Mortal's Journey to Immortality'..."

Memories from her past life and the remaining memories of this body rapidly merged and overlapped like a tidal wave. The original owner was an orphan that Wang Juechu picked up from the foot of the mountain. She was severely injured by the Wild Wolf Gang for risking her life to protect her fellow disciples, resulting in the severing of all her meridians.

"With all my meridians severed, I can't practice martial arts... how can I talk about cultivating immortality?" Murong Fan felt excruciating pain as if a thousand dull knives were cutting into his body, and his heart turned cold. "In this dog-eat-dog world of cultivation, if you can't cultivate, you're no different from an ant, and sooner or later you'll only have one path: death."

In a daze, fragmented memories of the original owner flooded his mind—an ancient legend he had heard from the elders of the sect when he was young: "In ancient times, there was a divine altar where all things were sacrificed to exchange for a chance to defy fate..." At the time, he thought it was just a myth, but now his mind was shaken and he found that it resonated with the legend.

Just as his mind was racing and he was on the verge of despair, an ancient and magnificent tremor suddenly came from the depths of his consciousness.

"Buzz..."

A distant, ancient resonance suddenly echoed from the depths of my mind.

Murong Fan shuddered, feeling his consciousness being pulled by an invisible force, plunging into a chaotic void. In the center of the chaos, a bronze altar stood majestically.

The altar stood nine feet tall, its base adorned with reliefs of galloping beasts, and its body encircled by fiery dragon patterns interspersed with obscure runes. The entire altar was shrouded in a hazy blue light, its surface faintly undulating with dragon scale patterns, exuding a vast and ancient aura.

The phantom formed from Murong Fan's consciousness stood before the altar, as insignificant as a speck of dust.

He instinctively reached out his hand.

The instant my fingertips touched the bronze altar—

"A compatible soul has been detected. Bind the [Altar of All Things]?"

A cold, mechanical notification sound rang out in the void without warning.

Murong Fan's pupils suddenly contracted.

The next moment, a purple-blue light screen unfolded before my eyes, and words flowed like water:

[Host: Murong Fan]

[Realm Level: Mortal (Second-Rate Martial Artist)]

[Spiritual Root: Activating the altar will display this]

Altar Status: Inactive (Requires initial sacrifice to activate)

[Magic Treasure: Altar of All Things, sacrifice all things to exchange for the heavens]

He stared intently at the light screen in front of him, slapping his cheeks hard. Only when he felt the pain did he realize that he was not dreaming.

The eerie aura emanating from the altar, exuding an overwhelming and malevolent presence, slowly surfaced deep within his soul.

The altar was densely covered with twisted and obscure runes, as if it possessed a terrifying power to devour everything in the world.

[Host's life is critically endangered; Altar of Sacrifice for All Things activated!]

A cold, emotionless mechanical voice exploded in his mind like a thunderclap from the heavens.

Murong Fan's pupils suddenly contracted.

[New player gift pack has been distributed: First-time sacrifice privileges activated.]

[Currently available sacrifice target: Wolf Guard corpse of the Wild Wolf Gang]

[Sacrifice Reward: Celestial Spirit Root (random attribute) + Repair of all damaged meridians.]

[Should a sacrifice be made?]

Murong Fan's heart began to pound violently, almost bursting out of his chest.

He endured the excruciating pain that seemed to tear his body apart, trying his best to recall the wolf guards who had been killed in the earlier melee, as well as the corpses of several Wild Wolf Gang henchmen that had not yet been dealt with after the battle.

"Sacrifice!" Murong Fan roared inwardly.

[The sacrifice begins!]

The corpses were instantly enveloped by an invisible force, turning into wisps of black energy that surged toward the altar... transforming into countless streams of thick, scarlet blood energy, like a giant whale opening its mouth to suck in water, flowing continuously into the depths of Murong Fan's brow with an extremely frenzied speed and momentum.

A scorching torrent of overwhelming power, seemingly capable of incinerating everything, instantly surged into his limbs and bones, engulfing every inch of his flesh and blood. His meridians, previously broken, damaged, and blocked for years, began to reorganize and reconnect at a visible speed under the continuous scouring and nourishment of this surging power, becoming even stronger and wider than before!

[Sacrifice successful!]

[Reward Obtained: Heavenly Spirit Root (Wood Attribute)!]

[Meridian repair complete!]

Murong Fan abruptly sat up, his chest heaving as he gasped for breath. He slowly clenched his fists, clearly feeling an unprecedented power flowing and leaping at his fingertips, a tangible, intense heat. A glint flashed in his eyes, a strange and profound dark red light passing through them.

"The altar? Activated! A cheat code..." Murong Fan took a deep breath, his chest aching slightly with excitement. "A Heavenly Spiritual Root? And it's wood-attribute! In the original story, the more mixed the spiritual root, the slower the cultivation speed. A Heavenly Spiritual Root is a top-tier aptitude, one in ten thousand in the cultivation world, coveted by countless cultivators, and the supreme shortcut to immortality!"

"Hahaha!"

"A useless person?"

"No, no, no! From this moment on, he, Murong Fan, will become the greatest unpredictable variable in this vast world of cultivation!"

"The Wild Wolf Gang..."

Murong Fan slowly turned his head and looked out the window at the pitch-black night that seemed impossible to dispel. His voice was low and hoarse, as if it were a murmur from the deepest abyss.

"The altar has awakened. I'll take your lives; I'll trade your lives for my Heavenly Spiritual Root!"