"Grandfather, farewell!" Tears streamed down Ethan Storm's cheeks as he gazed hollowly at the dark coffin about to be sealed.
Reflected in a bronze mirror before the coffin stood Ethan Storm: a boy of eleven or twelve, his frail frame draped in white garments, his face pale, and his once spirited black eyes now devoid of luster.
Outside the spirit chamber, the cacophony of firecrackers, suona horns, footsteps, laughter, and conversation melded together, as the dragon dance troupe hired from the town performed with zeal.
For millions of years, the dragon has been a symbol of faith in the Continent of Chaos. Legend has it that the continent was forged by a colossal ancestral dragon, which then transformed into myriad forms, sacrificing itself in the process. However, these stories were but myths, and rumors about dragons were scarce nowadays, with only a few fragmented records found in ancient texts.
It was a custom in Stone Town to invite dragon dancers to perform whenever a townsperson passed away, as a means to ward off evil spirits and repel demons.
"Ethan, get up! It's time to go up the mountain!" A callous voice roused Ethan from his stupor.
Clutching the coffin with his right hand, Ethan's eyes blazed with an intimidating intensity as he stared at his peacefully resting grandfather, as if to etch his visage into his heart. "He's dead at eighty-three. That's a ripe old age," someone sneered.
Ethan was forcibly pulled away from the coffin by his great-uncle, Robert Storm. The man, roughly fifty, balding, and short, scoffed. "Boy, if you love your grandfather so much, why don't you avenge him? Caleb Stone from the wealthiest family in town is responsible for his death. Do you dare confront him?"
"What did you say?" Ethan's eyes glinted with a murderous rage. He grabbed his taller great-uncle by the collar. "Did Caleb Stone truly kill my grandfather?"
"Robert! You're talking nonsense! Edward clearly died from accidentally ingesting the wrong medicine! How could you blame Caleb Stone?" A middle-aged man from the crowd retorted.
"Indeed! Edward brought his own demise! Don't falsely accuse others and make enemies!" Another voice chimed in.
"Watch your words, Robert. It seems you're regressing with age," an elderly man warned darkly.
After a moment of silence, Robert chuckled at the elder. "You're right; perhaps I misremembered. My memory isn't what it used to be. Edward's death is a relief for our younger generation. It's about time he was laid to rest."
"Robert always has a grasp on reality!"
"Grandfather's death was clearly caused by Caleb Stone deliberately giving him the wrong medicine!" whispered a twelve-year-old girl with braided pigtails standing beside Robert.
"Olivia! What do you know?" Robert slapped the girl hard across the face.
With a loud smack, Olivia tumbled to the ground, her cherubic face marked by five livid finger imprints. She sat on the ground, sobbing.
"Robert, why would you hit Olivia, a young girl?" Ethan stepped forward, shielding Olivia as he glared at Robert.
"You insolent brat! How dare you address me by name? You're useless! Now that you know the truth about Edward's death, do you dare confront Caleb Stone in town? Let me tell you!" Robert pointed at Ethan, enunciating each word. "Edward deserved to die. He spent twenty years indulging himself, wasting time on worthless trinkets, never thinking of us. Good riddance!"
Ethan's fury erupted into bitter laughter as he shoved Robert aside and pointedly brushed past his Aunt Catherine's serene expression and his cousin Victor's bowed and silent form. "Fine! Just fine! So Caleb Stone is it? The elders among you don't dare to seek him out, but I will! I'll go and find him myself!"
Ethan forcefully pushed through the crowd of jeering onlookers, intent on sprinting towards the path that led to the town!
The narrow trail was the only passage to Stone Town, and Ethan's village, known as Storm Village, was approximately seven or eight miles away. Despite his young age, Ethan had traveled this path countless times, and it was well ingrained in his memory.
"Is that rascal really going to town to find Caleb Stone?" a young man in the crowd exclaimed in surprise.
"Hmph! He's delusional! I bet he won't even get a glimpse of Lord Caleb's face! Lord Caleb is of such high status—already a master of the seventh level in the Strong Blood Realm and the head apothecary of Stone Town. He's undoubtedly one of the most prominent figures in our town!"
"Despite his youth, he possesses great courage. What a pity..." an elderly man with green whiskers sighed.
"Never mind that wild child! Let the ceremony continue." Robert didn't even glance at Ethan as he walked away. He looked around, bowed with a smile, and said, "Thank you all for your efforts. Let's finish the burial on the mountain sooner rather than later!"
...
On the winding mountain path leading to the town, Ethan's ears were filled with the howling wind, and tears gushed from his eyes like a spring. The memories of his grandfather's voice and teachings felt like they were just yesterday.
Ethan and his grandfather had walked this path countless times together. However, from now on, his grandfather's footprints would never appear again.
The plot of land at the foot of the mountain, where his grandfather had once cultivated vegetables and fruits, would never taste the same again.
And that pine tree they had planted together up ahead had grown to tower over them, but the man...
Barefoot, Ethan raced along the path, sprinting until he reached a bend in the trail when suddenly—
His vision blurred, and a familiar, slender figure appeared before him, prompting him to halt abruptly.
"Sophia, what are you doing here?" Ethan wiped away his tears, only then recognizing that it was his older cousin.
Sophia Storm greedily gasped for air, her face filled with anxiety as she grabbed Ethan's hand. "Please, Ethan, don't act impulsively. Just listen to me first!"
"Sophia, you—," discontent washed over Ethan's youthful face. He wanted to say: You're going to stop me too! But when he saw the paleness of Sophia's face and even her torn dress from rushing, a warm current flowed through his heart: "What are you doing here?"
Sophia licked her chapped, red lips, and a hint of desolation flashed across her beautiful face. She directly shoved a crumpled piece of paper into Ethan's hand: "Read it, and then we'll talk!"
Ethan took the paper doubtfully and unfolded it. The next moment, he shuddered!
On the white paper, there was only one word, written in blood: "Endure!"
……
Ethan seemed to age ten years in an instant! He silently followed his sister Sophia, and the two rejoined the procession up the mountain.
In Stone Town and many other places across the Continent of Chaos, there was a tradition of carrying the deceased up a mountain for burial. The process consisted of five steps: cleansing the body, placing it in a coffin, sealing the coffin, performing a ritual, and finally burying it. The coffin had been sealed, and all that remained were the ritual and the burial.
The ritual involved offering the deceased five types of meat – beef, dog, sheep, pig, and chicken – and then, according to blood ties, bowing to the person inside the coffin, offering meat and wine. Wealthier families would have a complete set of five animals for the ritual, but Edward's family was quite poor, only able to afford chicken and pork.
"Robert, offer wine!" the black-robed priest shouted.
"Victor, offer wine!"
Ethan watched coldly, as if the noisy discussions around him no longer concerned him. He memorized the faces of his relatives during the ritual: Robert's impatience, Victor's silence, Catherine's indifference, Sophia's grief, and Olivia's loud wailing.
"Ethan, offer wine!"
Ethan knelt woodenly before the coffin, struck his head on the ground three times, blood pouring from his forehead but seemingly unaware of it. He then poured a cup of yellow wine before his grandfather's coffin.
"The ceremony is complete!"
"Raise the coffin!"
As custom dictated, eight people should carry the coffin, but due to financial constraints, only four were hired.
"Huh? Why does the coffin feel so much lighter?" a burly middle-aged man carrying the coffin asked the onlookers in confusion.
"Could it be you overdid it last night?" someone in the crowd teased.
"Hmm? I also feel it's a bit lighter," another pallbearer said, puzzled.
"It really has become lighter!"
"It's true!" the other two carriers also noticed, and they all chimed in agreement.
"How is that possible?" Robert looked skeptical.
The onlookers exchanged glances, and after a moment of silence, the crowd erupted in commotion.
Ethan, however, remained silent, watching the black coffin intently, his ears perked up.
Suddenly—
Ethan rushed forward, scanned the crowd, his eyes blazing, and roared, "Everyone, quiet!"
The gazes of over a hundred onlookers quickly converged on Ethan. Pale as paper, scrawny yet standing tall, his chin slightly raised, seemingly unfazed by the blood streaming down his forehead, his dark eyes appeared calm but with a hint of madness, like a wounded lone wolf in the night, proud, bloodthirsty, and ruthless. "This child has a mature and resolute nature, and great courage. He is destined for greatness!" Many shared the same thought, and for a moment, the crowd fell silent. Catherine wanted to scold Ethan but was taken aback by his fierce expression, and she too remained silent. "You insolent brat! Today's gathering includes village elders and clan leaders, and we will not tolerate your unruly behavior!" Robert couldn't bear being scolded by a twelve-year-old and spoke out. Ethan ignored Robert's reprimand, only pressing his ear closer to the black coffin— "Thud." Ethan thought he heard a faint knocking sound from the coffin and quickly moved even closer, lying flat
Under the astonished gaze of the crowd, Edward, who had been dead, suddenly sat up in his coffin. It was as if a stretched spring had suddenly recoiled, eerie and without warning.Clothed in black, with black lips, a black hat, and black eyes—Everyone, except for Ethan, was horrified, their faces changing color. Even Olivia and Sophia were pale and retreated in fear."A ghost!"The crowd scattered like frightened birds, especially the timid girls and boys, who hid behind their elders, crying hysterically.Ethan's eyelids twitched and his palms were sweaty, but his deep bond with his grandfather from a decade of companionship kept him standing by the coffin."Grandpa, are you alright?" Ethan asked cautiously.Under Ethan's watchful gaze, his grandfather's eyes seemed to regain some vitality, and his rigid face broke into a faint smile. He weakly raised his right hand from within the coffin, pointing at Ethan and then at his own mouth.What did that mean? Did his grandfather have somet
Excitement flickered in Ethan's eyes as he licked his dry lips. He removed the Stone Bead from his neck and hung it in an open space about thirty feet from the gravesite before returning to his original meditation spot. As expected, the absorption speed of the spiritual energy slowed down significantly, now comparable to his usual cultivation rate. Ethan was overjoyed, and his grief over his grandfather's death seemed to fade somewhat. He eagerly retrieved the Stone Bead and treasured it, hanging it back around his neck. "With this extraordinary bead, how can I not avenge my deep-seated grudge?" Ethan murmured. "However, purchasing the remaining eight levels of the Azure Ox Method would likely cost nearly three thousand taels. Even with my apprentice wages from the blacksmith's shop, I'm afraid I couldn't afford it in a hundred years!" After a long silence, Ethan rose and returned to his straw hut. He fumbled behind a straw mat for a while before finally pulling out a small cloth
Ethan carefully poured a small pot of molten bronze and iron mixture into the mold, forming a soon-to-be-finished plow. The people of Stone Town mainly earned their livelihoods through agriculture and animal husbandry, so iron plows were a common tool. The plows would inevitably wear and tear, and those of lesser quality would deteriorate quickly. Consequently, the demand for plows in town was high. Casting an iron plow required less cooling time compared to weapons like swords, knives, and axes. After a short while, Ethan gently tapped the mold encasing the plow with a small hammer, freeing the newly forged tool. Only the final step of tempering remained. "Ding!" Ethan flicked the plow with his index finger, producing a deep, crisp sound. "Hmm, this plow should be quite good!" A sense of joy filled Ethan's eyes. "Huh?" Not far away, Henry had been observing everyone and quickly approached Ethan, examining the iron plow with interest. It was a furrow plow, measuring two feet se
Half an hour later. "An excellent eight-foot rake! It's also top-quality!" Henry looked dubiously at the iron rake in his hands. This was already the fourth piece! Each one was of superior quality! Had the boy taken some sort of drug? Had he transformed his grief from his grandfather's death into power? An hour later. "Top-quality spear!" "Top-quality hidden sleeve sword!" "Top-quality hoe!" Henry's expression changed again and again, from initial astonishment to delight, to doubt, and finally to utter shock! When had top-quality items become so common? Something was definitely off! This was already the seventh piece! Not a single one was mediocre – all top-quality, crafted from ordinary materials! The success rate was 100%! This casting mastery alone had already surpassed Henry! Henry had completely stopped working, pulling up a chair and sitting leisurely next to Ethan, watching him with a strange expression as he busied himself, sweat dripping from his forehead. Not just
Upon entering the second level of the Strong Blood Realm, Ethan could feel not only a significant increase in strength but also a substantial improvement in his vision. By the light of the candle, he could clearly see leaves more than twenty yards away. "Rustle" The bush containing the animal trap quivered. Ethan tiptoed forward, cautiously taking two steps. Suddenly— "Whoosh" "Crack" A branch as thick as a child's arm was snapped in two! Delicate scales reflected a faint, eerie sheen in the night. "Damn! A snake?" Ethan was taken aback. In the past, Ethan had caught wolves, porcupines, and pheasants using his traps, but this was the first time he had caught such a large snake. "Gulp" Ethan swallowed nervously, his eyes fixed on the snake ten yards away. It was evident that the snake had been caught by the trap. The snake struggled ceaselessly. Surrounding bushes roiled and broke. "Crack" "Snap" Snake blood continued to flow from the undergrowth. Ethan mustered his cour
Ethan fetched a bowl of clean water and, with a puzzled expression, dropped the Dark Token into it.With a soft "ding," the token slipped into the bowl, and the clear water immediately turned black at a visible rate, as if a piece of graphite had been thrown in. In the blink of an eye, the water in the bowl transformed into a pool of ink.Startled, Ethan's face paled, and he quickly retreated several steps before returning with another bowl filled with water.He used a stick to carefully hold the Dark Token and dipped it into the fresh water, repeating the process dozens of times until the water in the bowl finally became clear.The Dark Token was a pure black wooden plaque about the size of a child's palm and half a finger thick. On its surface were faint traces of dark red, a residue of coagulated blood, and numerous tiny silver-white points that appeared to have been etched into it."These silver dots are quite peculiar!" Ethan muttered, his face close to the surface of the water a
The next day, early morning.Ethan rose early, washed his face briefly, grabbed a broom, and stepped outside.He gazed at the pale sky and enjoyed a moment of tranquility. Dressed in a simple, clean azure robe, his serene and indifferent expression made him appear several years older than he was.In front of the small house where Ethan and his grandfather had lived, there stood a massive pagoda tree that required three grown men to wrap their arms around its trunk. The tree's branches spread wide, and it towered over thirty feet high, leaving a striking impression from afar.Occasionally, passersby would marvel at the sight, and some ill-intentioned individuals would attempt to secretly chop it down to sell. However, after countless strikes, only a few chunks of bark were removed, leaving mere scratches on the trunk before they gave up.Ethan remembered his grandfather's frequent admonitions: "This is a spiritual tree, a tree of fortune. Cherish and protect it."Ethan was skeptical bu