Igaris could somehow understand the ancient language, because like everyone else, Yuhan had studied it to prepare himself as a Martial Warrior. Now, it was finally coming in handy for Igaris.
The scroll's words were cryptic, almost like poetry composed by someone half-mad and half-enlightened.
< To reverse light, walk into darkness. To awaken heat, bury yourself in frost. True mastery is not control, but surrender. Let Yin devour your breath. Let Yang burn your bones. Only then, shall reversal begin >
At the bottom of the scroll, a note was etched:
> "Brat, no one will ever be able to master this. So just give up. And if you somehow do learn the art, revive this old man from the grave as repayment, alright?"
Igaris read the founder's words, and a small smile formed on his lips.
"What an interesting old man. But… can I really learn it?"
"Time to find out," he muttered, opening the scroll as the golden glow of the wall lamps flickered across the chamber.
