《Bloodbound Oath: Between Realms》


 Chapter 1: Sollivan

    A breeze of cold air laden with a hint of dust passed through a small hole in a wooden wall belonging to an old, dilapidated house entirely made of wood that had started to decay due to its age.


    The house wasn¡¯t large inside, consisting of a very spacious room on the left side, which housed a hearth filled with cold ashes and burnt wood that had stopped burning hours before. On the opposite side of the wide room, there was a slightly large table filled with various books and paper scrolls, some worn and torn while others were new and preserved, holding the scent of fresh paper that lent an air of knowledge.


    Cough!


    Cough!


    A dry coughing sound spread from a small, short door across the wide room, filling the otherwise silent space with an eerie coldness and gloom.


    In a slightly smaller room adjacent to the wide room, which occupied most of the space in the old house, there was a wooden bed upon which a young man in his late twenties lay. His face was ordinary¡ªnot beautiful nor unattractive¡ªbut seemed pallid due to his very pale skin and the large dark circles under his closed eyes, which twitched slightly in a strange manner as if he were suffering from a disturbing nightmare. Suddenly, the young man opened his eyes to reveal pupils of a faint, brownish color devoid of the life that typically glows in the eyes of the young, making him appear like an old man who had endured the harshness of life.


    Exhale!


    The young man let out a long sigh as his eyes remained fixed on the ceiling of the room, which emitted a faint, almost imperceptible cracking sound. After a short moment of stillness, the young man moved slowly, pulling himself into a sitting position. He then scanned the room with a look filled with melancholy, finally stopping at a wooden wheelchair near his bed. With great effort and slowness, he extended his hand and grasped the armrest of the wheelchair, pulling his frail body with difficulty.


    The old, tattered mattress sagged and a part of it fell to the cold floor, but the young man didn¡¯t mind. He continued his struggle until he managed to pull himself fully onto the wheelchair. His breaths were harsh, and his face was taut, showing the difficulty of moving from the bed to the wheelchair.


    Huff!


    The young man let out a long, strained sigh, and his tense expression relaxed slightly. He adjusted his sitting position and placed his hands on the wheelchair¡¯s wheels, ready to push himself, but the fallen mattress blocked the path of the small front wheels.


    *Hmm...*


    The young man emitted a soft, mocking grunt, bending slightly despite his immobile legs. He was used to it, but he didn¡¯t care. He leaned down, picked up the fallen mattress, and arranged it a little before gripping the wheels of the wheelchair again and pushing himself towards the wide room. The wheelchair wheels emitted a harsh, creaking sound as they rolled over the worn wooden floor, and the chair itself wobbled slightly, making a squeaking noise due to its age. Despite everything, the young man¡¯s gaze remained calm and clear as if he felt nothing.


    ¡°The place is so messy¡­¡±


    The young man sighed wearily as he looked at the scattered books and items throughout the room. He didn¡¯t bother trying to do anything about it. He guided his wheelchair towards the cold, unlit hearth and picked up a small wooden board that he placed across his immobile lap. He grabbed some wood shavings and flint stones beside the hearth and began striking them together, producing tiny sparks that fell onto the shavings and ignited slightly.


    After gently blowing on the tiny flame, it grew to life. Quickly, he tossed it into the hearth and added more shavings to sustain the flame. He then placed small wooden pieces beside the hearth, and as soon as they touched the fire, they ignited, causing a puff of gray, acrid smoke due to the poor quality and cheapness of the wood. Nonetheless, warmth began to spread throughout the room, reducing the chill and loneliness of the grim old house.


    The young man¡¯s gaze froze for a moment on the fire consuming the wooden logs, growing bigger and spreading more heat, smoke, and a foul odor. Yet, his eyes remained fixed on the flame, the flickering tongues of fire reflecting in his dim, cloudy eyes. In that moment, fragmented memories surfaced in his calm mind.


    His name was once Sollivan Duskwraite, from a family of some noble standing. His family had served under the wing of the Golden Lion Empire for generations, achieving great honor that earned them respect and admiration from the citizens of their previous city. Sollivan himself was a talented fighter, surpassing both his father and grandfather in martial skills, making him the pride of the family with high hopes pinned on him. His grandfather had hoped Sollivan would outshine all his ancestors and become an imperial knight, achieving the highest degrees of glory and honor, directly serving the imperial family.


    ¡°The Golden Eye...¡±


    Sollivan muttered softly, words barely audible, as the reflection of the fire in his eyes dimmed strangely, unlike the rising flames in the hearth. He then let out a long sigh and pushed his wheelchair towards a nearby wooden chest by the hearth, containing sacks filled with grains and a few potatoes with mold-covered skins. He reached for a handful of potatoes, placing them beside his thigh on the chair, then attempted to grab a handful of thick wheat flour, but his hand halted suddenly. His distant memories stirred, awakening old sorrows within him, but he shook his head resolutely, pushing those troubling thoughts aside. He murmured with a sad tone, filled with bitterness:


    "It''s all over... everyone is dead... and I¡¯m paralyzed... no point in thinking about the past. I can''t do anything."


    A look of sadness crossed his pale face, but he ignored it and picked up a handful of flour, placing it in a rusty metal pot filled with soot stuck to the bottom. He added a bit of water, mixing it into a loose dough, then set the pot on the hearth. Then he moved to the other side of the hearth, took a small knife and a wooden board, and returned to the large table. He began peeling the potatoes and cutting them into small pieces. After finishing, he added the potato pieces to the flour and water mixture, then sprinkled a little salt to cut through the bitterness of the mixture.


    After a few minutes, the strange soup Sollivan prepared started to simmer. He took a ladle and a bowl, pouring half of it into the bowl for himself, then covered the rest with a round wooden disc to keep out insects and dust. After setting the ladle aside, he took a small wooden spoon and slowly pushed his wheelchair with one hand while holding the bowl with the other. Despite the difficulty of maneuvering the wheelchair in this way, he showed no anger or frustration. He focused entirely on guiding the wheelchair and protecting the soup from spilling and staining his tattered clothes.Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.


    When he reached the table, he placed the soup and spoon on it and smiled a faint smile, feeling a small sense of accomplishment. He secured his chair in place and began to eat slowly, finding a quiet satisfaction in the meal despite its poor taste. For Sollivan, this simple meal was a luxury compared to his daily existence. He often spent his days subsisting on hard, black bread and water, rarely tasting fresh vegetables. Meat was known to him only on the rarest occasions.


    After finishing his meal, Sollivan cleaned the table and returned the dish to its place after washing it with water.


    Ring! Ring!


    A loud bell rang out, jolting Sollivan¡¯s dull gaze, which was immersed in cleaning the cooking utensils. He raised his head with a sigh of frustration, resigned:


    "I¡¯m late again."


    He quickly pushed his wheelchair toward his small room, where he grabbed an old, slightly torn shoe. He struggled to put it on over his cold, helpless feet, then picked up a worn leather bag placed beside the bed. He pushed himself back toward the cluttered table filled with books and manuscripts and began sorting through the pile in front of him. He chose one new, clean book and an old, tattered one with its cover beginning to fall apart, then placed them carefully inside the bag to avoid wrinkling their pages. He secured the bag with a worn leather strap around his waist and attached it to the side of his wheelchair.


    He then moved toward the wooden door of the house, which was locked with a large wooden plank. He glanced around his home one last time to make sure everything was in order. After confirming that the fire in the hearth had died down and only a little smoke was rising from the small metal chimney, he took hold of the door handle. But he hesitated for a moment, pausing.


    He took a deep breath and opened the door. A light breeze from autumn hit him, carrying dust that irritated his eyes and a foul odor that filled the air. His face scrunched up momentarily at the smell, but he quickly pushed his wheelchair outside the house. Before him stretched a narrow alleyway, crowded with ramshackle wooden houses. Some were large, others small, while some jutted above single-story homes in disjointed arrangements. Smoke rose from chimneys, and the sound of barking stray dogs filled the air. A few domesticated chickens wandered here and there, pecking at the dirt-streaked ground, mixed with muddy puddles and remnants of human waste.


    Bark!


    Sollivan closed the door tightly behind him, then began to push his wheelchair through the narrow alley. The place teemed with passersby who had rough appearances and gloomy expressions. Most people wore faded gray clothes made of coarse linen, while a few were dressed in tattered or incomplete clothing. Some looked extremely dirty, with foul odors clearly emanating from them, indicating they were likely homeless, while others seemed more orderly despite the age of their clothing, maintaining a relatively acceptable level of cleanliness.


    Sollivan pushed his wheelchair with difficulty through the uneven and muddy ground. Dirty water and sticky mud clung to the wheels of his chair, and some droplets splashed onto his worn shoe and the bottoms of his pants. However, he showed no interest in it, continuing to push his wheelchair. His eyes scanned the people around him cautiously. Some shot him disgusted looks, while others blatantly spat to the side when his wheelchair blocked their path.


    ''As usual.''


    He continued his way without lowering his guard. He had been robbed several times, and his bag had been stolen by unknown people before, so he held onto it tightly. Whenever he spotted a suspicious person, he would slow down and place his hand on the bag, cautious and wary.


    As he pushed his cart and scanned his surroundings, his gaze lingered for a moment on some dirty little children playing innocently, oblivious to the world around them. He smiled for a moment, but his mood quickly soured when he noticed one of those children who used to bother him, sometimes even provoking the other kids to steal from him or roughly push his wheelchair, causing him to fall once and injure himself.


    "Hmph, damn child!" Sollivan pushed his cart faster before the annoying kids could notice him. After putting a good distance between them, he took a deep breath, relieved to have left the place. After several minutes, the dirty, narrow alley improved as the number of houses decreased and side streets increased. The ground became cleaner, making pushing the wheelchair smoother, and Sollivan¡¯s pace quickened, as did the reduced, irritating vibrations.


    Sollivan continued to push his wheelchair, and after several more minutes, he completely left the filthy area filled with dilapidated buildings and poor people. Finally, he reached a main street, where part of the ground was paved with stones. The sides of the street were lined with bustling shops displaying a variety of inexpensive and luxurious goods. There were also fragrant restaurants releasing tempting smells into the crowded street, filled with people from various social classes. Some were dressed in fine clothes made of the finest silk and cotton, while others wore simple linen garments.


    From time to time, a line of guards could be seen, wearing thick leather armor reinforced with a layer of solid metal, and iron helmets protecting their heads and faces. Their armor was plain without any embellishments, indicating their low rank. Nevertheless, whenever people saw them, they made way for them with respect. Sometimes, some would move aside out of fear.


    The guards'' gazes were sharp, looking around with hawk-like eyes, capable of seeing everything. They didn¡¯t take any additional actions other than patrolling, but that was enough to keep people calm, making no one dare to cause trouble in the main street of the city.


    After half an hour of leaving his home, Sollivan finally reached his destination, a large shop with a huge sign hanging above its door reading "The Minor Library." He pushed his wheelchair and entered through the wide door of the shop, which was filled with the scent of books and old manuscripts. The large shop was filled with several big shelves full of different types of books and manuscripts, and there were some clean, well-arranged tables and chairs in the other part of the room. Near the entrance, there was a large reception desk where an elderly man in his late sixties was sitting, with a thick white beard and a small, pointed mustache, full of wrinkles beneath his eyes. He held an old book in his hands, reading it intently.


    When the elderly man heard the sound of the wheelchair, he raised his head slightly and looked at Sollivan with a calm and relaxed voice, "You¡¯re late as usual." He then folded the book and set it aside, looking at him with an expectant gaze.


    Sullivan smiled faintly and replied with a chuckle, "And as usual, I''m sorry." He then opened his bag and pulled out the two books he had brought, handing them to the elderly man who took them and set them aside. The elderly man asked in a very friendly tone, with some excitement, "Did you read the book I gave you?"


    Sullivan raised his eyebrows, holding back a faint chuckle, "It''s very good. I have to admit, you''ve outdone yourself this time. All of your previous books seemed ordinary compared to this one."


    The elderly man sighed with relief and looked at Sullivan with eyes that flickered with a bit of excitement, then spoke with a happy tone, "You know how to flatter this old man, but hearing your opinion really comforts me." This elderly man was Ellis Goodwin, the owner of the small bookstore where Sullivan worked. Despite being his boss and older by several years, Ellis treated him like a close friend. They would discuss many matters related to the store and their personal lives. Ellis''s passion was writing, and he had authored several books and manuscripts, often seeking Sullivan''s opinion before making them available in the bookstore.


    Sullivan smiled and pointed to the two books on the desk, "By the way, I finished copying this book. I hope you''ll review it."


    Ellis looked at the two books with a complex expression, then sighed deeply before speaking with a gloomy tone, "Sullivan, you really overwork yourself. I understand winter is approaching and you need money for supplies." Ellis opened his mouth to say more, but then paused and sighed again, adding, "You know what? There''s no need for me to say more. You''re too stubborn, and my words won''t change your mind."


    Sullivan''s primary work involved copying old books and creating new copies. He earned a few silver coins for each book he copied, sometimes a bit more if the book was lengthy or included detailed charts and illustrations. Although he earned a slightly higher commission, the job was demanding and time-consuming, often allowing him to complete only one or two books a week.


    A faint smile appeared on Sullivan''s face, full of gratitude, "Thank you for worrying about me, my friend, but don''t worry, everything is under control." Despite saying that, a look of helplessness appeared on his face, and he felt a tense sadness. ''I really hope so, I''m exhausted, physically drained, and mentally shattered. I only have a few years left to live, yet I''m still holding on and trying to enjoy what remains of my life, even though it''s just a messy piece of the puzzle.'' His emotions mixed for a moment, causing him to lower his head and gaze at his motionless feet with a blurry look. ''Winter is coming, and business is about to slow down. I still haven''t saved enough money. Also, peaceful winter is my most loved and hated season at the same time.'' Due to his inability to walk and the snow piling up, making it difficult to navigate his wheelchair, Sullivan spent most of the winter indoors, reading books and historical records that he loved so much. They were the only things that made him feel and see things he could no longer experience, even though they were relayed from others'' experiences.


    ...


    "Anyway, Sullivan, you can take a break. It''s still early, and the store won¡¯t be busy for a while. I¡¯ll handle the few customers who come in during this period." Ellis¡¯s concerned voice snapped Sullivan out of his scattered thoughts. He then raised his head and looked at the worried elderly man, feeling a warmth in his heart and sincerely thanking him, "Thank you, my friend. I think I¡¯ll be bothering you a bit. Haha!"


    "No need to thank me!" Ellis laughed and waved his hand, motioning for him to go.


    Sullivan pushed his wheelchair a few steps, and then he heard the sound of footsteps from a customer approaching. He turned his head slowly and glanced at the short person standing in front of the reception desk. His brows furrowed in annoyance. He felt his calm chest tightening and turning into a surge of anger, but these feelings only lasted for a moment before he returned to his usual calm, examining the face of the elderly woman with her wrinkled skin and the look of disgust in her eyes. The elderly woman didn¡¯t give Sullivan a single glance and walked towards the reception desk, where Ellis greeted her with all due respect.


    "How can I assist you, madam?"

 Chapter 2: Strange Book

    Despite the immense difficulty Sollivan faced in maintaining his composure every time his eyes fell upon the old woman¡¯s face, he stood beside the reception desk, watching her intently, driven by sheer curiosity. In the five years he had worked here, this woman had never once set foot in the shop.


    ¡®That wretched old hag... What could she possibly want? I doubt someone like her has any interest in reading...¡¯ He swallowed his words, grumbling sarcastically to himself, trying his best to keep his calm.


    Over the past five years, Sollivan had never felt such conflicting emotions as he did today. Just seeing the old woman stirred painful memories he had long buried in the depths of his heart.


    Quietly, he muttered as he stared with foggy eyes, filled with suppressed memories and emotions, "I hate winter."


    Six years ago, as winter approached, his family had been completely wiped out.


    He himself had been gravely injured, his life hanging by a thread. In the moment he was on the brink of death, drowning in despair, his sworn uncle, Leonard Winglet, had made the decision to sell all of the deceased family¡¯s belongings. He used every bit of the money to purchase expensive medicines to save Sollivan¡¯s life.


    Yet all he could do was barely keep him alive, leaving Sollivan paralyzed and significantly weakened. His uncle had told him he wouldn¡¯t live past the age of thirty.


    During that period, Leonard had fallen into a deep depression and indescribable sorrow, accompanied by an ever-present fear that the killers of his sworn brother would return to finish what they started by taking the life of his nephew.


    After much deliberation, Leonard decided to sever ties with Sollivan to ensure his safety. Yet his conscience wouldn¡¯t allow him to abandon him entirely. Instead, he entrusted him to the care of the family¡¯s oldest servant and her grandson.


    He handed them 200 gold coins and gave Sollivan 50 coins from what remained of the family¡¯s wealth, instructing them to leave the city, purchase a house, and start a new life.


    Whenever Sollivan recalled the long journey he had endured in the biting cold of winter, burdened by his injuries and the weight of his shattered heart, he felt an indescribable bitterness and humiliation that refused to fade.


    Sigh...


    He slowly raised his head, his gaze landing on the face of the old woman¡ªa face that bore the marks of a life of prosperity and comfort.


    ¡®That cursed old hag¡­ She took all the money my uncle gave her to help me and used it to build a residential complex in the slums and a hotel in the city. She earns hundreds of silver coins annually and only gives me two silver coins at the start of each month.


    I don¡¯t know if it¡¯s out of pity or fear that my uncle might find out she abandoned me. But whatever her motives are, it doesn¡¯t change the truth. She broke her promise and left me to rot and freeze in a decrepit room in the slums.


    And worse, she made me endure her endless complaints about how she had to spend a single gold coin to buy that crumbling house.¡¯


    The deeper Sollivan sank into his bitter memories, the tighter his chest felt, leaving him unable to calm himself. Finally, he exhaled deeply, trying to banish the unsettling thoughts from his mind, and a faintly vacant expression spread across his face.


    He glanced at Ellis and the old woman, neither of whom noticed the rapid shifts in his expression during those brief moments.


    At that moment, the old woman''s voice abruptly interrupted his thoughts.


    "Do you buy books?"


    Her tone lacked any warmth or respect, as if her mere presence in the shop was a favor.


    "Hmph." ''Miserable old hag¡­'' he muttered under his breath, his tone tinged with anger. He turned his gaze to Ellis, whose brows furrowed slightly but who refrained from showing any extreme reaction. Ellis decided to handle the situation professionally, responding in a tone laced with mild sarcasm.


    "Yes, ma¡¯am. We buy books. But not everything with pages and a cover deserves to be called a book."


    "Fine."


    The old woman placed a rectangular object wrapped in cloth on the counter. She then removed the wrapping, revealing a thick book with hundreds of pages. Its cover was pitch black and incredibly thick, almost resembling a thin metal plate.


    Sollivan''s curiosity was piqued, but he couldn''t make out the book''s details clearly due to his lower position and relative distance. Even Ellis appeared intrigued as he picked up the book to examine it. At that moment, the old woman began to speak, trying to emphasize the book''s value.


    "This book belonged to an Arcane Master who stayed at my inn. That scoundrel paid for a whole year but disappeared for six months. He must have died in the war. In the end, we had to open his room, and all we found was this book. It¡¯s clearly something valuable."


    "Its value will be determined after inspection."


    Ellis said as he opened the book. However, the moment he did, his brows knitted together, and a strange expression spread across his face. This change didn¡¯t escape Sollivan, who grew even more curious and puzzled. After a moment of tense silence, Sollivan heard Ellis addressing the old woman in a dissatisfied tone.


    "This book is written in a strange language."


    Sollivan quickly pushed his chair toward the counter, approaching the old woman, who shot him a displeased look and stepped aside. She quickly responded, attempting to justify herself.


    "The language doesn¡¯t matter. It¡¯s still incredibly valuable! It belonged to an Arcane Master.


    Surely, it¡¯s an Arcane Masters manual. Do you know that even the cheapest one of these books, is worth over ten silver coins?"


    The look of displeasure on Ellis¡¯s face deepened, and he replied with an audible complaint.


    "Even if it is an Arcane Masters book, which I highly doubt, it¡¯s useless to anyone if it¡¯s written in an unknown language like this."


    "Let me see."


    Sollivan¡¯s voice, filled with curiosity, cut through the discussion. Ellis glanced at him briefly before handing him the book.


    The moment Sollivan took hold of the book, he was surprised by its weight, his hands dipping slightly under the unexpected heaviness. His eyes widened slightly as his curiosity deepened, especially when a faint, peculiar scent emanated from the book. He began examining it intently.


    Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    The cover was pitch black, just as Sollivan had seen earlier, but upon closer inspection, he noticed raised decorations framing the edges.


    At the center of the cover was a strange symbol protruding from the surface, its texture rough like stone.


    Sollivan extended a finger to feel the unfamiliar texture, studying its details with intrigue.


    He opened the book slowly, his eyes falling on the first page, which was filled with strange writings in a deep blood-red color. The sight made him mutter in astonishment.


    "What is this?"


    His voice rose slightly in surprise, unaware of himself, as his gaze remained fixed on the book.


    Ellis looked over at him.


    "You¡¯re surprised too? It¡¯s just a bunch of random scribbles I¡¯ve never seen before."


    Sollivan didn¡¯t reply, remaining focused on the collection of ancient characters.


    Unlike Ellis, his shock wasn¡¯t merely due to the strangeness of the symbols; he felt a vague familiarity with them. A nervous expression crossed his face. ¡®I¡¯ve seen symbols like these before.¡¯ His eyes locked onto one character, and after a brief moment of thought, he recalled its meaning. ¡®This represents the letter B.¡¯ However, he couldn¡¯t decipher the rest of the symbols.


    Though Sollivan knew the vastness of the world, he was also aware of how few languages truly existed. Most people spoke the Common Tongue, while the remaining languages were either ancient or exceedingly rare. Despite the age and experience gap between him and Ellis, Sollivan¡¯s knowledge in this particular field was broader.


    While Ellis focused on literature, poetry, and history, Sollivan¡¯s interests revolved around the strange and extraordinary¡ªparticularly in the fields of medicine, languages, myths, and lost relics.


    His fascination stemmed from two primary reasons: the hope of finding a recipe or ingredient that could heal him, and his quest to reconstruct his damaged vein.


    After browsing through the book for nearly three minutes, Sollivan shook his head in disappointment and said to the old woman, "This book is worthless. The only notable thing about it is its cover. It¡¯s impossible for it to be an Arcane Master manual; it¡¯s far too thick and filled with writing without any illustrations."


    Hearing Sollivan¡¯s assessment, Ellis turned to the old woman and said politely,


    "I¡¯m sorry, ma¡¯am, but it seems your book isn¡¯t of much value. However, we can offer you one silver coin for it, solely because of its unique leather cover."


    A deep scowl formed on the old woman¡¯s face, and she complained in an irritatingly loud voice, "One silver coin? This is a valuable book owned by an Arcane Master , and you¡¯re offering me pocket change? It seems your shop¡¯s reputation is hardly deserved!"


    Despite her words, the old woman knew perfectly well that the book was worthless.


    Before bringing it to Ellis¡¯s shop, she had shown it to her grandson, a skilled Arcane Master who served in the city¡¯s joint guard force. After examining it, he told her it was just junk that no one would buy. Still, she was determined to sell it for a slightly higher price.


    The old woman¡¯s words sparked quiet anger in Ellis. A cold glint appeared in his eyes as he took the book from Sollivan¡¯s hands and handed it back to her, saying icily.


    "Here, take your book and find somewhere else to sell it. Our shop has high standards and doesn¡¯t deal in trash."


    The old woman¡¯s lips twisted in arrogance, and a grim look appeared in her eyes. She snatched the book and cursed loudly, "Miserable wretch!" Then she turned and stormed out in angry strides. But after taking a few steps past the door, she heard a calm voice call out to her.


    "Wait a moment, I¡¯ll buy the book for two silver coins."


    The old woman slowly turned back, her eyes filled with suspicion and scorn as she stared at the young man in the wheelchair.


    Ellis, too, cast a look of irritation and confusion at Sollivan.


    He was well aware of Sollivan¡¯s peculiar hobby of collecting rare and strange books and manuscripts, but he was deeply annoyed by the old woman¡¯s behavior.


    He said skeptically, "What are you saying, Sollivan? Why would you want to buy a worthless book like that?"


    Before Sollivan could reply, the old woman stepped closer and spoke in a brash tone, "I want three silver coins."


    Sollivan raised an eyebrow slightly, and despite everyone¡¯s varying looks directed at him, he replied coldly, "Two silver coins is all I¡¯ll offer. Take it or leave it; no one else is going to buy this trash for a higher price."


    Hmph! The old woman placed the book on the reception desk under Ellis¡¯s helpless gaze and flashed a mocking smile that made her features appear even uglier.


    She extended her hand, pointing toward Sollivan, and said, "Pay up!"


    Without looking at her, Sollivan turned his wheelchair and spoke in a cool tone, "You don¡¯t need to pay this month¡¯s dues. Consider them the payment for the book."


    At those words, Ellis¡¯s eyebrows arched in astonishment as he stared at Sollivan¡¯s back with bewildered eyes. Several questions flooded his mind. ¡®Dues? Do they know each other? But¡­¡¯ His confusion deepened as he recalled how both of them had acted like strangers upon meeting.


    Ellis quickly glanced at the old woman, who snorted in disdain before turning and leaving in a huff.


    Sigh!


    Ellis froze for a moment, then picked up the book and set it aside for Sollivan to collect later. But suddenly, something dawned on him, and he murmured softly, "Who exactly is Sollivan?"


    Though he had worked with Sollivan for many years, he had never heard anything about his family or origins. Even Sollivan¡¯s last name was a mystery, adding to his enigmatic nature.


    As Ellis pondered further, he decided to push the thoughts aside, his face returning to its usual calm and polite expression.


    He muttered quietly, "Everyone has their secrets, and there¡¯s no need to pry into them."


    These words weren¡¯t merely an attempt to reassure himself; they reflected his genuine belief.


    He understood all too well the complexities of relationships and the strangeness of people in this world. After all, he himself carried secrets he would never dare share with anyone, not even his closest acquaintances or friends.


    ...


    In a quiet corner of the library, behind a shelf crowded with books, Sollivan sat back, relaxing as he closed his eyes peacefully.


    He was unaware that his previous action, seemingly simple on the surface, had sent Ellis into a whirlwind of deep thought, making him reevaluate his stance toward him.


    "Where have I seen you before?" he murmured in a low, puzzled voice.


    He opened his eyes and looked at the library ceiling with a complex expression.


    I¡¯m sure I¡¯ve seen this writing before, but where? Was there something similar to it in his home? His confusion deepened, and the questions began to burn in his mind.


    He felt an intense urge to return home and examine the pile of books and manuscripts he had collected over the years in search of answers. But the thought of worrying Ellis or making him suspicious of his intentions stopped him.


    This is really frustrating. He sighed in exhaustion and closed his eyes again, trying to calm himself.


    His body relaxed, and he drifted into a peaceful nap.


    Time passed quietly, and the number of customers in the library gradually increased. However, despite his growing workload, Ellis didn¡¯t disturb Sollivan or ask for his help. He handled everything on his own.


    After an hour of comfortable sleep, Sollivan finally opened his eyes, gazing at the corridor between the bookshelves. He heard the footsteps of customers and realized he had been asleep for quite some time.


    I bet Ellis regrets his suggestion now, he thought with a faint smile, chuckling quietly.


    He raised his hands, adjusted his hair, and wiped his face to shake off the traces of sleep. He then calmly wheeled himself toward the corridor, where he noticed a man in his early thirties. The man had a noble appearance, dressed in elegant clothing, and stood before a bookshelf, carefully inspecting the books.


    Sollivan turned his head toward the reception desk, where Ellis was busy assisting customers, then approached the man in his wheelchair and spoke in a respectful tone.


    "Are you interested in the history of the Golden Lion Empire?"


    The man slowly turned around, his eyes slightly surprised. After a brief moment of hesitation, he replied, "Not exactly, but I¡¯m looking for historical books that discuss the era before the empire."


    Sollivan was surprised by the man''s request and asked in a skeptical tone, "Do you mean the Great Empire?"


    "Yes."


    Sollivan wheeled himself toward a nearby bookshelf and carefully examined the titles. After a moment, he picked up a thick book with a faded cover and handed it to the man.


    "The period you''re asking about was rarely documented. This book contains all the remaining recorded information about that era."


    The man''s eyes widened slightly, and a doubtful expression appeared on his face.


    "Really?"


    Sollivan chuckled lightly before smiling and adding, "You could say that, but most of what¡¯s in this book consists of mysterious legends, and the dates aren¡¯t very accurate. So, I wouldn¡¯t recommend relying on it as a scientific or historical reference."


    Hearing his response, the nobleman¡¯s concern eased.


    Sollivan had understood the reason behind his worry.


    Historical books and records were not something easily obtained or readily available.


    The few accurate books that existed were owned by ancient and powerful families whose histories spanned hundreds of years or were kept in the Imperial Library, which only a select few could access.


    So when he heard that the book was comprehensive and contained various historical information, he became deeply skeptical of its credibility. If what he had heard was false, it meant the shop owner was lying to him.


    But if it was true, then this book was of immense value and shouldn¡¯t belong to a place like this.


    After the strange tension between the two had settled, the nobleman asked again,


    "Do you have more books like this?"


    Sollivan replied, "Yes, we have a few more books and some simple manuscripts."


    "Show them to me."


    Sollivan led the nobleman to the bookshelves and pointed out a selected collection. After much examination and searching, the man left the library carrying three books and four old manuscripts, looking quite satisfied with his purchases.


    Without taking a moment to rest, Sollivan immediately approached another customer to offer assistance, guiding them to the appropriate books and fulfilling their requests.


    The day continued at a slow yet exhausting pace. As autumn neared its end, people began preparing for winter by purchasing their essential needs, including books as a source of entertainment.


    The shop filled with the voices of customers and unfamiliar faces, increasing the pressure on Sollivan and Ellis, who focused on serving customers while also keeping an eye on the store to prevent any theft amid the chaos.


    After long hours of grueling work, Sollivan finally paused in the middle of the shop, closing his eyes for a brief moment to take a short rest, while Ellis remained occupied with reviewing the day''s accounts and organizing sales records.


    "I''m heading out now," Sollivan said as he wheeled himself toward the reception desk.


    He glanced at Ellis, who was still buried in calculations, and smirked.


    "Looks like you''ll be here for a while."


    Ellis scoffed sarcastically, then grabbed two books¡ªone incredibly old and the other completely new and pristine¡ªand pushed them toward Sollivan with a teasing smile.


    "Looks like you have a long night of copying ahead of you. As for me, I''ll be asleep the moment I get home."


    Sollivan raised an eyebrow with a resigned smile, "You win this round."


    He wheeled himself away from the desk toward the door, but Ellis''s voice suddenly stopped him.


    "Wait a moment."


    Sollivan turned around to find Ellis holding the black book that had concerned him earlier that morning. Ellis smirked lightly.


    "It was a really tiring day, wasn¡¯t it?"


    Sollivan responded calmly, "I know."


    He placed the black book into his bag alongside the books that he will need to copy, then slowly left the shop. As soon as he stepped outside, a cold breeze greeted him, making him shiver.


    He lifted his head and looked at the sky, which was darkening as sunset approached, while thick clouds gathered over the horizon.


    ''The weather is getting colder ''.


    He guided his wheelchair through the familiar alleys, where shadows gradually spread, covering the narrow paths.


    After half an hour of moving through the quiet streets, he finally arrived at his humble neighborhood, which seemed less lively than usual. The passersby had disappeared, the chickens had returned to their nests, and stray dogs roamed here and there.


    His eyes wandered across the neighborhood until they finally settled on his doorstep, where a mysterious figure stood, their features obscured by the dim light.


    His brows furrowed slightly with concern, but the tension quickly faded as he moved closer to the door and recognized the person waiting for him.

 Chapter 3: Reading Between The Lines

    When Sollivan spotted the mysterious figure standing near the door, he quickened his steps, straining to see more clearly in the dim light.


    To his surprise, the figure was just a child¡ªnot yet in his teenage years. The boy was thin and slightly short, though his height seemed appropriate for his age.


    His small face lacked the softness and innocent gaze typical of children. Instead, he looked pale, his expression unwavering, and his eyes held a harshness that suggested an adult trapped in a child¡¯s body.


    This was not unusual in the slums, where most children were either orphans or had lost one parent, forcing them to seek work to support themselves or their families.


    Their young age limited their options to simple tasks: tending horses in stables, serving food in taverns, cleaning alleyways, or working as porters and errand boys in the markets.


    The child before Sollivan was Devlin, an orphan who had lost his parents long ago. Without hesitation, Devlin rushed to Sollivan¡¯s chair, gripped its handles, and pushed it toward the house.


    Sollivan said nothing, simply relaxing in his seat and catching his breath. Within moments, they reached the house¡¯s entrance. In Devlin¡¯s eyes, there was a faint glimmer of respect, despite the silence between them.


    Sollivan pulled out his key and unlocked the door before asking calmly, ¡°Will you manage this winter?¡±


    Pushing the chair inside, Devlin replied with gratitude, ¡°Yes, I¡¯ve saved enough to rent a room and buy what I need.¡±


    ¡°Good. You know where the empty water jars are, but light the fireplace first.¡±


    Gripping the wheels of his chair, Sollivan pushed himself toward the table cluttered with books and manuscripts.


    Without glancing at Devlin, he set his bag aside and began scanning the manuscripts, his eyes wary as he tried to recall where he had seen that strange language before.


    Meanwhile, Devlin walked to the fireplace, ignited a few flames, and watched as warmth slowly spread through the room.


    He picked up a half-melted candle nearby and lit it. Stepping toward Sollivan, whose features were gradually swallowed by the encroaching darkness, he placed the candle beside him, brightening the room¡¯s lighting.


    Without a word, he moved to a corner where several earthenware jars and small wooden bottles were stacked before quietly leaving the house.


    Sollivan lifted his head and glanced at the slightly ajar door. A cold draft slipped through, causing the candlelight to flicker and cast fragmented shadows across his face¡ªrevealing a complex expression.


    Devlin was no stranger to Sollivan.


    One could even say he was an unofficial servant, helping with tasks Sollivan struggled to complete on his own: fetching water from the communal well, buying necessities on stormy or rainy days, and other errands.


    In return, Sollivan gave him a small sum of money at the end of each week.


    Five years ago, when Sollivan had regained some strength, he began venturing outside his home, exploring the neighborhood and getting to know his neighbors.


    During that time, he met Devlin, an orphan who had lost his parents in a tragic accident, leaving him utterly alone.


    Soon after, vagrants took advantage of his weakness¡ªlooting his home, driving him out, and claiming it for themselves.


    At first, Sollivan paid no attention to the boy, dismissing him as just another troublesome street urchin.


    But as winter arrived, Devlin¡¯s frail body began to resemble a tattered corpse, gnawed by hunger and bitten by the relentless cold. Though Sollivan had trained himself to be indifferent, watching the boy¡¯s suffering stirred an unfamiliar hesitation within him.


    He saw himself in that small child¡ªboth had lost their loved ones, been robbed of their former lives, and left to rot in the world. Yet, Sollivan¡¯s circumstances had been slightly better.


    In the end, he decided to take Devlin in for the winter, despite not fully trusting him. At first, both were wary, treating each other with suspicion and caution. But as time passed, Devlin¡¯s fears eased, and Sollivan¡¯s guard lowered, allowing their relationship to improve.


    A deep sense of gratitude grew within Devlin¡ªSollivan had saved him from certain doom. In return, Sollivan found his loneliness slightly lessened and his daily struggles made easier during the harsh winter.


    However, he never intended to shelter the boy for long. When spring arrived, he taught Devlin how to survive and fend for himself, then cast him out to find his own work and shelter.


    ...


    Sollivan pulled a thick book from his collection and slowly opened it, revealing a small square compartment carved into its pages.


    At the heart of the hollow space rested four gold coins, glimmering faintly under the flickering candlelight. He hesitated for a moment before his fingers hovered over one of the coins.


    ¡°One coin¡­ that¡¯s all he needs to begin, but the risk of failure is still high.¡±


    At the age of thirteen, a child¡¯s Auraxis main vein fully develops, allowing them to train in martial arts and cultivate the energy of Auraxis within their bodies.


    However, before they can begin, they must first purchase a Vein Opening Pill, a special pill that helps them surpass their human limitations once they have trained their bodies sufficiently and advanced through the stages of the Body Strengthening Realm.


    Yet, the risk of failure remained significant, making Sollivan hesitate.


    Due to his own financial struggles, he decided to wait before making a decision.


    Each pill cost a single gold coin¡ªa hefty sum most people could not afford. As a result, many either never started training or began years later, only after saving enough money. This delay often stunted their progress, as they missed the optimal period for cultivation and lacked the necessary resources to advance.


    In the past, his uncle had given him sixty gold coins to cover his expenses, but within the first year, most of it was spent on medicines, herbs, and doctors in a futile search for a cure. For all the exorbitant treatments he endured, all he gained was a slight improvement in strength and a limited recovery of his lost vitality.


    Still, he refused to give up. Whenever he found something that might help, he bought it¡ªleaving him with a modest stock of rare herbs he had obtained by chance while working in the library.This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.


    Ironically, sixty gold coins were enough to let a poor man live comfortably, yet for Sollivan, they had done nothing more than slightly ease his suffering.


    ¡°No need to dwell on that now.¡±


    Pushing the book aside, he picked up a stack of manuscripts and began examining them carefully.


    Every document and book he flipped through contained valuable and diverse knowledge¡ªranging from rare herbal studies to legends of lost treasures and even the ancient history of his continent.


    However, books in this field were extremely rare, and some were written in unfamiliar languages or consisted merely of drawings without explanations.


    Through his personal efforts, he had meticulously annotated his own notes, allowing him to gain a broad understanding of many fundamental fields and learn bits and pieces of every language he had encountered.


    Because of this, he had recognized one of the symbols in the mysterious book earlier.


    Time passed slowly and quietly as Devlin went back and forth, carrying empty jars out and returning with them filled with water. Night fell, and the alleys darkened, but the scattered torchlights, though scarce, were enough to guide his way.


    Meanwhile, Sollivan remained seated, reading at a steady pace, reviewing the records and notes he had carefully compiled.


    It was his habit to organize his books and information, ensuring everything remained in order. After identifying the manuscripts worth scrutinizing, he began sorting through them with unwavering focus.


    By the time Devlin finished his work and left for his own lodging, minutes had turned into hours. The candle that had illuminated the corner of the room gradually melted away, leaving only a small stub. Around its base, hardened wax had accumulated, forming frozen droplets that resembled dried glue.


    Suddenly, Sollivan lifted his head. The candle flame flickered violently, casting shifting shadows across his face, illuminating his eyes with a rare gleam of excitement.


    In his hands was a large manuscript, its strange symbols filled with dozens of explanatory notes and annotations¡ªone that he had spent a long time deciphering.


    He set the manuscript aside, a satisfied expression settling on his face¡ªhis curiosity about the mysterious language had finally been sated.


    However, a slight pain throbbed at his temple, a dull ache from the mental strain he had exerted. Normally, he would begin transcribing any book he brought home as soon as he arrived, but this time, he had become entirely absorbed in deciphering the language of the black book, neglecting his usual work and losing precious hours of his time.


    Even so, he didn¡¯t mind much¡ªhe had found something truly worth his attention.


    ¡°I got so caught up in my research that I forgot myself...¡±


    Sollivan exhaled heavily, only for a faint growl from his stomach to remind him of his intense hunger.


    Without sparing the manuscript another glance, he pushed his chair back and wheeled himself toward the fireplace, where the dying flames flickered weakly, leaving behind only a few glowing embers.


    Quickly, he tossed in some dry twigs to rekindle the fire, then reached for the metal pot, lifting its lid.


    A strange aroma wafted up¡ªa mixture of the leftover soup he had made that morning, now thicker and more concentrated. He added some water to thin it out, waiting for the flames to strengthen before placing the pot over the fire.


    As the food slowly warmed, his gaze drifted to the satchel lying beside the table, and he muttered under his breath.


    ¡°What secrets do you hold¡­?¡±


    ...


    [Two Weeks Later]


    As the days passed, the once-clear sky grew heavy with dense gray clouds, obscuring the sun¡¯s warmth and bringing with them a biting cold.


    Snow fell relentlessly, blanketing the entire city in white. Layers of snow piled upon the streets and rooftops, transforming the once-thriving city into a desolate, lifeless expanse.


    Most shops had closed, and passersby became a rare sight.


    Even the stray dogs, known for their incessant barking and mischief, had disappeared¡ªeither retreating from the merciless cold or seeking shelter somewhere warmer.


    In one of the city¡¯s poorer districts, where silence hung thick over the alleys, a fireplace crackled inside a run-down house, spreading a faint warmth through its walls.


    Sollivan sat in his chair, staring at the book. Its cover was cool to the touch, its surface smooth yet oddly rough at the edges, as if resisting his grasp.


    Then he opened to its first page. Across the table, dozens of papers lay scattered¡ªsome crumpled or torn and tossed aside carelessly, while others were neatly arranged in a careful stack beside the book.


    In his hand, he held a sleek, sophisticated pen that stood in stark contrast to his surroundings.


    Crafted from a single smooth piece of black material, it fit perfectly between his fingers, its needle-thin tip housing an intricate mechanism that ensured effortless writing and preserved the ink.


    He wrote at an excruciatingly slow pace, pausing frequently to scrutinize the first page of the black book, as if attempting to unravel an impossibly complex cipher.


    After what felt like an eternity, he finally leaned back in his chair, exhaling a long breath before rubbing his wrist, which ached from the relentless hours of writing.


    Despite his clear need for rest, he straightened once more, picked up the organized papers, and placed them beside the sheet he had just finished.


    His expression hardened, shedding all traces of exhaustion or relaxation, as he began linking the fragmented words in his notes to those on the first page of the black book.


    With calculated precision, he pulled a fresh sheet of paper and resumed translating, drawing upon every word he had deciphered so far.


    Unlike before, when his translation had been hesitant and fragmented, the page now filled quickly with words, as though something had finally clicked into place.


    Sollivan lifted his head, a faint smile of satisfaction crossing his lips. A quiet sense of accomplishment seeped into his chest, warming him slightly despite the cold.


    His gaze dropped to the lines he had just transcribed, but his brow soon furrowed, his expression shifting to one of confusion. Then, in a cautious, expectant voice, he began to read aloud.


    ¡°Only blood seals the pact, only blood opens the gate.¡±


    His voice echoed in the silent room, carrying with it a strange, unshakable weight.


    His eyes flickered to the book¡¯s center, where symbols intertwined in an elaborate design, carved deep into the page, pulsating with an eerie, forbidden power.


    Even in the dim light, the ink shimmered in the darkness, whispering promises of strength.


    He continued reading, as though the words slipping from his lips belonged to a world not his own.


    ¡°With the essence of life, the veil shall be lifted¡­ Life for life, world for world, and the soul shall witness what no eye can see, tread where no foot has stepped.


    Each world has its door, beyond which lies the unknown¡­ If opened, horrors shall awaken. No light, no mercy, no return for the unready.¡±


    For the briefest of moments, the page beneath his fingertips pulsed faintly, its rhythm syncing with the uneasy beats of his heart. Yet the sensation faded too quickly for him to take notice.


    At last, his voice carried him to the final line, his words slipping into the air in an almost unnatural whisper, tinged with something sinister.


    ¡°Let but a single drop fall, and the threshold shall open¡­ Let your blood flow, and seal your fate.¡±


    Sollivan stared at the last sentence in silence, a tangle of disappointment and confusion swirling within him.


    The book¡¯s introduction was cryptic, elusive, as though it concealed a truth yet to be revealed. His eyebrows arched for a moment before he turned to the second page, which was filled with writing.


    Drawing upon what he had learned from translating the first page, he began analyzing the text. But within just five minutes, his expression shifted, and his brows visibly trembled.


    He flipped to the next page, and after two more minutes, his features contorted. He started flipping through the pages rapidly, eyes darting over the words, struggling to comprehend them. But something was wrong.


    After minutes of tense staring, Sollivan slammed the book shut with a muffled thud.


    ¡°This is nonsense!¡± he muttered angrily, his gaze flickering in every direction as he tried to steady himself.


    After reviewing the second page and the following ones repeatedly, he realized he could no longer translate a single letter.


    It was as if the words had transformed into cryptic symbols, completely different from those on the first page. This wasn¡¯t merely a change in language¡ªthe letters themselves were devoid of meaning, as though they were utter gibberish.


    ¡°All that effort... wasted.¡±


    A surge of frustration welled up within him as he recalled spending two silver coins on a book he couldn¡¯t even read.


    But the money wasn¡¯t what angered him the most¡ªit was the time he had wasted. Two whole weeks spent translating just a single page¡ªtime that could have been used for something far more productive.


    He took a deep breath, attempting to clear his mind of the nagging thoughts.


    Reaching for the paper on which he had written the translation, he stared at the last line with vacant eyes, his voice barely a whisper as he murmured.


    ¡°Let but a single drop fall, and the threshold shall open¡­ Let your blood flow, and seal your fate.¡±


    His gaze shifted to the black book resting on the table, lingering on its intricately designed cover.


    ¡°A drop of blood¡­ There are books and ancient manuscripts that only open with a blood imprint.¡±


    His eyes fell upon the engraved symbol at the center of the cover, recalling what he had read on the first page.


    His expression changed, and the curiosity that had faded beneath the weight of disappointment began to stir once more.


    Picking up the book, he ran his fingers over its cold surface, an odd look of anticipation crossing his face.


    He reached out with his left hand toward a small knife lying beside the table, studying its sharp, icy blade for a moment. Then, with quiet resolve and without hesitation, he pricked his index finger against the tip.


    A crimson drop welled up, slowly trickling down the metal before he set the knife aside and pressed his bleeding finger against the symbol at the center of the cover.


    He waited, his heart pounding with expectation and apprehension.


    The blood seeped into the engraving, staining its strange design. But¡­ nothing happened. Seconds passed. The center of the cover darkened with the deep red liquid, its shade pale in contrast to the book¡¯s abyssal black.


    Sollivan exhaled slowly.


    ¡®I shouldn¡¯t have gotten my hopes up¡­¡¯ he sighed again, this time in final resignation, and moved to withdraw his finger¡ªonly for his expression to twist in shock, his eyes widening.


    His finger wouldn¡¯t budge.


    It was as though it had fused with the book, refusing to move no matter how hard he tried.


    ¡°What now?¡± A tremor coursed through his chest, a blend of fear and unease sending a shiver down his spine. Yet, beneath the apprehension, other emotions began to creep in¡ªan inexplicable longing, a suppressed thrill, and an eager curiosity for what would come next.


    The sensation of being stuck didn¡¯t last long. It faded swiftly, allowing him to finally pull his finger away. But that no longer mattered. His focus remained locked on the book.


    The blood that had stained the cover was now being drawn into the engraved symbol, as if the book itself was drinking it.


    Then, the book trembled violently, its weight seeming to increase tenfold. Even Sollivan¡ªwho had long lost sensation in his legs¡ªfelt a faint illusion of crushing heaviness pressing down upon his paralyzed limbs.


    A pulse!


    The book quivered again, like the heartbeat of a beast roused from slumber.


    At that moment, an inexplicable dread flooded through Sollivan, his heartbeat racing in a desperate, frantic rhythm¡ªas though his body sought to flee, despite remaining utterly still.


    Yet, even amidst his overwhelming fear, he couldn¡¯t tear his gaze away from the glowing symbol at the book¡¯s center. It protruded further, its hue deepening into a mesmerizing crimson¡ªlike a deceitful flame, luring moths to their doom.


    A deafening throb!


    The ground beneath him shook violently, shadows rippling across the room like entities stirring from an ancient slumber. The fire in the hearth crackled, sending embers dancing into the air.


    Yet, the disturbance did not extend far¡ªthroughout the impoverished district, only a faint tremor was felt. The heart of the city, meanwhile, remained undisturbed, lost in its oblivious tranquility.


    But Sollivan cared for none of it. Not the tremors. Not the flickering shadows.


    All of his attention was consumed by that glowing crimson symbol¡ªone that no longer resembled a mere carving. It was an eye.


    A sinister, all-seeing eye, peering into the depths of his soul, unearthing secrets he didn¡¯t even know existed, whispering knowledge beyond his comprehension.


    And before he could fully grasp what was happening, an unseen force surged through him, yanking him into oblivion.


    His body collapsed, his head striking the table with a resounding thud.


    Darkness swallowed him whole.

 Chapter 4: awakening

    Pulse!


    Sollivan''s closed eyelids fluttered before he slowly opened his foggy eyes. With difficulty, he raised his hand, clutching his head, which throbbed with a sharp pain, causing him to furrow his brows in agony.


    After a few moments of suffering, the foggy vision gradually faded, and the ringing and whistling in his ears subsided, allowing him to think more clearly.


    He shook his head slightly, rubbed his face, and then looked ahead. But his eyes widened in shock, his features froze, and he was left speechless before muttering in a hoarse voice:


    "Where am I?"


    Everything he had known before was gone. His home, his city, the cold winter snow... everything had vanished, leaving only a vast plain covered in strange, dark blue plants stretching endlessly.


    A few scattered trees here and there barely broke the monotony of the scene, making him feel as though he were trapped in a strange dream.


    With great effort, Sollivan raised his head and stared at the sky. His widened eyes grew even more bewildered, and words caught in his throat. He wanted to take a deep breath, but he couldn''t.


    Above him, the warm yellow sun he knew had disappeared, replaced by a massive, faint orange orb, despite its enormous size and close proximity. It looked like a full moon, so close that he could see solar waves dancing on its surface like joyful fire dragons.


    Shock, confusion, fear, awe, and sorrow... Sollivan couldn''t pinpoint the emotions he felt in that single minute of clarity. But he was sure of one thing: he wasn''t dreaming.


    The refreshing breeze that caressed his cheeks, the faint rustling of the grass that delighted his ears, and the warmth of the giant sun that heated his skin... all these sensations were undeniably real.


    He held his breath, shook his head filled with chaotic thoughts, and calmed himself with difficulty.


    Then he stood on his feet and took a step forward, turning his head left and right, searching for anything other than the blue grass and distant trees.


    In his daze, he realized something that made him freeze in place once more. Slowly, with wide eyes, he lowered his head and looked at his feet, standing straight.


    Thud!


    He moved his right foot and took a step forward, crushing the blue grass beneath him. Despite seeing it clearly, he couldn''t comprehend what was happening.


    He took another step, then another, then another... Before he knew it, he had taken ten steps, but his eyes remained fixed on his feet. His shocked heart raced wildly, sending a tingling sensation that made his limbs tremble involuntarily.


    An indescribable excitement, inexplicable joy, and deep fear... He reached out with his trembling hand and pinched his leg hard, feeling a sharp pain that unleashed the flood of emotions trapped in his heart.


    "I can walk... I can walk!" Sollivan smiled with pure happiness, repeating his words like a madman as he ran wildly, like someone who had lost his mind.


    "I can run!" He reveled in the wonderful feeling he had lost for years, filled with happiness and joy, and felt a deep calm in his heart, as if a heavy mountain had been lifted from his body.


    The gentle breeze played with his black hair, and the soil and grass flew with each step he took.


    His pulse quickened, and he began to feel some fatigue, but he didn''t want to stop and lose this intoxicating feeling of bliss. Moreover, he felt a deep fear that he would wake from his dream the moment he stopped.


    After running a long distance, he felt exhausted and fell to the ground on his back, gazing at the strange blue and golden sky. His eyes seemed to smile from sheer joy.


    Despite his calm demeanor, polished by years of suffering, at this moment, he couldn''t control himself, and his emotions fluttered with overwhelming happiness, like butterflies experiencing flight for the first time.


    Roar!


    His body suddenly shook, and his smile froze. The overwhelming joy turned into deep fear.


    Quickly, he stood on his feet, his muscles tense and ready to unleash all their strength to run or fight at any moment. But his mind, which had regained its calm, prevented him from taking any rash actions.


    At that moment, for the first time in a long time, memories of hunting with his father and grandfather returned to him, and he remembered all the experience and guidance he had learned.


    Calmly and very slowly, he bent slightly, his sharp eyes scanning his surroundings like a hawk, searching for any strange movement.


    But he found nothing, even though the air around him felt thick and suffocating. He tried to calm his rapid, shallow breaths, but his racing heart refused to give him any peace.


    ''The beast that roared didn''t take any action or attack? Is there a reason for that, or is it just far enough not to sense my presence yet? If I try to run now and escape, it might sense my movement and find me.


    And even if I don''t move, the wind might carry my scent to it. In either case, I''m doomed.''


    Sollivan took one last look at his surroundings, glanced at his feet for a moment, and pushed aside all the joy he had felt earlier. Then he muttered in a low voice:


    "I''ve regained my ability to walk, but my training is nonexistent, and even the basic skills I know won''t help me much. My body seems too tense."


    He crouched completely to the ground, pressing his ear to the soil, trying to sense any vibrations or signs of approaching danger. But there was nothing, which gave him a slight sense of relief, which he used to calm his heart and steady his breathing.


    After ensuring that his mental and physical state had improved, he got up from the ground and began to move very slowly. Every step he took was calculated carefully, trying to avoid making any sound that might attract attention.


    His sharp eyes, like those of a hawk, scanned his surroundings incessantly, and his ears were alert for any sound, no matter how faint.


    Despite all his caution and the quiet surroundings, the oppressive feeling of danger didn''t fade; on the contrary, it grew stronger.


    From his past experience, he was sure that this fear wasn''t just a fleeting feeling but something deeper and more mysterious, as if the air around him pulsed with hidden warnings.


    But despite that, he pushed himself to continue, heading toward some dense trees that seemed like a safe haven that could provide cover from prying eyes.


    Step by step, his goal grew closer, and the suffocating feeling he felt began to lessen. You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.


    But despite that, he didn''t lower his guard; on the contrary, his senses became sharper, and his expression grew more stern. After a few more steps, he reached his destination and suddenly increased his speed, running into the small forest.


    Huff!


    After moving away from the edge of the forest, he fell to the ground, leaning his back against a thick tree trunk, and exhaled heavily as sweat dripped from his forehead.


    ''This place is very dangerous. Everything around me is strange and unfamiliar.


    I visited the Black Death Forest with my father, and it wasn''t this quiet. There are no sounds... no birds, no insects.


    If I hadn''t heard that roar earlier, I would have thought I was in a barren, dead land.''


    He raised his head and looked at the sky through the dense leaves, muttering with confusion and fear:


    "The sun above me isn''t the sun I know, and even the sky is a different color, and the ground seems to lean toward blackness... as if I''m in a world different from the one I know."


    Sigh!


    He stood up quickly and raised the caution he had lowered during his short rest.


    He looked left and right with sharp, wary eyes, then sniffed the air around him for any strange smells. But he found nothing.


    ''I need to leave this place.''


    The more time he spent in this place, the more his anxiety grew, and he began to feel uneasy.


    Only thirty minutes had passed since he woke up, and during that time, he had experienced things and emotions more complex than anything he had felt in the past five years.


    After gathering his courage and steadying his breathing, he began walking through the forest, which wasn''t too dense.


    Occasionally, there were wide gaps between the trees, but they still provided good cover amidst the vast plain around them.


    Whistle!


    Suddenly, Sollivan stopped walking abruptly.


    He turned his head suspiciously and began listening closely to the faint sounds that reached his ears. The sounds weren''t close, but they gave his heart, filled with fear and despair, a bit of calm and hope.


    Then he began walking again, faster this time, following the source of the sounds. His silent surroundings began to regain their vitality. The birds that sang lively returned, and the annoying insects filled the place.


    Gurgle!


    Among the various sounds, he heard a familiar one that made his heart tremble with joy.


    He changed his direction, and without walking far, he reached the source of the sound, which was a small stream with clear, beautiful water that shimmered in the sunlight. After looking in both directions of the stream and ensuring it was empty, he knelt and looked at the reflection of his face in the clear water.


    But at that moment, he frowned strangely. He brought his face closer to the water, and then his reflection became clearer. His pale face, with dark circles, had become clear and healthy.


    Also, his brown eyes had become pitch black. But the strange thing that made him feel some anxiety was the appearance of strange shapes on his forehead that resembled black scales.


    ''What happened to me?''


    He touched his forehead gently and felt the slightly rough texture of the non-protruding scales, muttering, "I don''t understand... everything is strange, even myself."


    Growl!


    A faint gurgling sound came from nearby, making the confused Sollivan stand quickly with a tense body. He looked around cautiously, and then he noticed a vague shape hiding behind some tall grass.


    Only a convex back with a dark yellow color was visible, but it was enough for him to realize that it was a beast lying in wait for him. His eyes remained fixed on the hidden shape, and he slowly stepped back.


    Step by step, the distance between them increased, but the hidden beast didn''t make any movement, which increased his confidence and quickened his steps.


    Slash!


    His foot suddenly slipped due to a misstep in the stream, making him stop in place for a moment with a stern face.


    He watched the convex back of the beast and found that it was still in place. Very quietly, he lifted his foot from the water and took a step back.


    But at that moment, suddenly, the beast jumped from behind the grass and ran toward him at high speed. The hyena-like beast opened its mouth full of sharp teeth and growled with a screeching, metallic sound.


    "Damn it!"


    Without any hesitation or moment of stillness, Sollivan turned and began running at full speed.


    His steps were strange and carried a steady rhythm, making his movements very smooth. With great agility, he avoided the trees in his path, using them as a natural barrier behind him.


    Although the distance between him and the beast was very short, the beast couldn''t shorten it; on the contrary, every time it got closer to Sollivan, he suddenly changed direction, causing the beast to stumble and sometimes crash into the trees, making them shake violently.


    Sollivan''s hair danced in the wind, and his clothes fluttered.


    His muscles were tense and full of energy, and his breathing was steady and harmonious. Every step he took was smooth, as if he were sliding on soap over a smooth floor.


    This movement technique was called Light Steps, a very common technique among Arcane masters and those who had strengthened their bodies. It increased their speed while reducing the physical effort they exerted, allowing them to run longer distances with less effort.


    Sollivan continued running desperately. Although he had maintained his physical strength for as long as possible, his body and tense muscles began to tire. His steady, harmonious breathing became chaotic, and even his smooth running began to show signs of strain.


    He turned his head slowly and looked at the beast running behind him, seeing it open its mouth strangely, as if smiling maliciously.


    " Mother F****!"


    All he could say at that moment was a few hateful curses before looking ahead. Then he tried to increase his speed, but his body had already reached its limit.


    ''I don''t have much stamina left. I need to lose this beast, or I''m dead.''


    Sollivan quickly changed his direction toward some distant trees intertwined with each other.


    But he didn''t realize that the beast had reached him at that moment and swung its sharp claws at his back.


    Sollivan felt a cold chill on his back and jumped to the side quickly.


    Slash!


    The beast''s claws grazed his back superficially, causing small wounds and tearing his clothes.


    This made Sollivan, who had intended to land on his feet, lose his balance and fall to the ground. But the techniques of his family, which he had trained in the past, didn''t leave his mind.


    Quickly, he rolled strangely like a cat, making his fall smooth, then stood up quickly and continued running toward the intertwined trees without losing momentum. The beast stopped for a moment and growled in frustration, then chased him at an even greater speed.


    Sweat poured profusely and soaked his clothes. At this stage, his breathing became completely chaotic, and his steps were no longer fast.


    He could no longer maintain the Light Steps technique and began running normally, relying only on his willpower, as his physical strength had long since run out.


    His eyes remained fixed on the group of trees that were only a few dozen meters away. Using the last of his strength, he increased his speed. But despite that, the beast reached him and pounced, wanting to kill him.


    Using the same method as before, Sollivan jumped, avoiding the beast''s saliva-filled, ferocious jaws, and rolled on the ground, filling his body with scratches and bruises caused by the stones on the ground. Then he stood up, exhausted, without hesitation, and ran.


    Every step he took was filled with despair and a deep desire to survive.


    He looked left and right, but he found nothing he could use to lose the beast chasing him except the intertwined trees ahead. Although his steps became stumbling and slow, and his breathing became irregular, while his eyes began to blur from exhaustion, he succeeded in reaching his goal.


    He was only a few steps away from his destination, but at that moment, he felt the ground beneath him shake and the air around him ripple. Faintly, he could sense a suffocating feeling of death. But he didn''t lose his composure.


    With the last of his strength, he used the Light Steps technique again, jumped forward, and turned around before landing. Then he saw the ferocious and terrifying face of the beast in front of him, with only a few centimeters separating them.


    With a mocking smile, Sollivan raised his foot and kicked the beast''s ugly face hard, causing its saliva to fly and several wrinkles to distort its already hideous face. Then he pushed himself back and entered through a small hole in the intertwined trees.


    The beast crashed into the trees and destroyed some of them due to its strength. It shoved its front leg through the hole in the trees and tried to grab Sollivan, who crawled away quickly like a worm.


    The branches and roots of the trees intertwined in a strange shape, forming a large network of small, narrow tunnels, where the light was slightly dim compared to the outside.


    From the outside, this network looked like a very wide tree composed of hundreds of branches, extending for several tens of meters.


    Huff!


    Huff!


    After moving a considerable distance away from the beast, Sollivan finally stopped crawling. His breathing was very erratic, and his face was drenched in sweat.


    But at that moment, he exhaled deeply, and his tense muscles relaxed. The nervous expression on his face faded, and he swallowed a mouthful of saliva to moisten his dry throat.


    His mind became foggy, and his eyelids grew very heavy, causing him to close his eyes and fall asleep without realizing it.


    Time passed slowly, but the beast continued to scratch the tree trunks with its sharp claws to no avail. After a very long time, it finally gave up and left to search for another prey.


    Huff!


    Sollivan opened his eyes nervously and tried to get up, but he hit his head hard against a thick tree trunk with a very sharp edge, causing a wound on his forehead.


    Hot blood flowed from the wound, which swelled quickly and stained his hair, giving him a strange warmth.


    The fog in his eyes cleared, and he regained his composure, then stretched out on his back and stared at the faint light seeping through the holes among the intertwined branches and trunks.


    He raised his hand slowly, and then he felt a sharp pain in his joints and muscles.


    He touched his bleeding forehead, then raised his hand and looked at it to find it covered in a dark liquid that wasn''t visible well due to the darkness.


    "How much time has passed, I wonder?"


    He lowered his hand and wiped the blood from his forehead, then moved very slowly and assessed his physical condition.


    "Huff, I''m exhausted. My body couldn''t handle the techniques I used. My joints hurt terribly, and my muscles are filled with tears. In my current state, I can''t do anything if I encounter more beasts."


    Gulp!


    He tried to swallow his saliva, but his mouth and lips were too dry, prompting him to stick out his tongue in an attempt to moisten them. But there was no result.


    ''I''m so thirsty.''


    Sollivan smiled wryly, then moved his exhausted body. After avoiding the trunk he had hit earlier, he turned around and changed his direction toward the exit.


    He crawled slowly and without making any sound, like a slippery worm. After a few seconds, he reached the hole he had entered earlier, where faint white light seeped through, slightly illuminating his path.


    He cautiously stuck his head out, looking left and right with a stern face, and upon confirming that his surroundings were clear, he felt some relief.


    But he didn''t come out immediately and remained lying in the tunnel for a few more minutes. During that time, he noticed that the entrance to the tunnel had widened slightly and was filled with broken branches and claw marks.


    ''Was the beast trying to widen the entrance while I was unconscious? This beast is very smart. I need to be careful.''


    Sigh!


    Sollivan emerged from his burrow and stood unsteadily on his feet, then raised his head to look at the dark sky, where a large, beautiful white moon cast its faint light on the dark forest, making it less ominous.


    Behind the large moon, thousands of shining stars and dozens of small moons of various colors were visible. Some moons were as small as a pea, and some were slightly larger, the size of a grape.


    After gazing at the sky for a brief moment, he lowered his head and muttered with a grim expression.


    "This is not my world."


    Although he had doubted it when he saw the large, strange sun in the morning, he was now certain of it.


    ''How... did this happen? And why..?''


    Even after thinking about it for a short while, Sollivan couldn''t find the right words to describe what he felt.


    But he calmed himself quickly and began to think.


    ''I''m in a different world, and even my body seems different. Although my facial features remain the same, those scales on my forehead and my black eyes aren''t part of me. Even my body has become stronger compared to my real body.''


    ''Is this because of the black book? All of this happened after I placed my blood on it.


    Is the book some kind of portal, and my blood was the trigger that activated it? But that doesn''t make sense.


    The treasures I''ve heard about and read about don''t work so simply. They require many factors to activate, and most importantly, they need Auraxis energy. But my body is ordinary; it shouldn''t be able to support the book''s activation, no matter what it does.''


    "Wait a minute?!"


    Sollivan''s body trembled, and his features twisted.


    "Am I dead? Did the book kill me and bring me to this strange world? Am I trapped here, then?¡±

 Chapter 5: Still Running

    Sollivan''s face froze for several minutes. His heart tightened, and his mind went blank, unable to think of anything.


    He wasn¡¯t angry or sad, but he couldn¡¯t simply accept the situation. Although everything he thought of remained mere theories that couldn¡¯t be confirmed, it turned his usually calm demeanor into chaos.


    Despite being disabled and ostracized, living a bleak life in his world, that life had been earned through the sacrifices of many people, and he had come to accept it long ago. He had even clung to hope, believing that one day he might heal himself¡ªor even find his family¡¯s killer and take revenge.


    Deep down, he knew his hopes and dreams were just fantasies that would never come true, but at this moment, he felt a profound sense of guilt.


    He had regained his legs and physical health, but in exchange, he had been transported to a place far from his homeland, surrounded by wilderness and beasts that could kill him at any moment.


    The feeling of emptiness lingered in his mind and heart for a long time, making him oblivious to his surroundings and the blood trickling from the wound on his forehead, flowing into his right eye.


    The dark blood entered his eye, causing his blank face to twitch. He tilted his head in discomfort and raised his hand to rub his eye, which now had a faint burning sensation.


    He shook his head in anger and looked up at the sky with bloodshot eyes, then let out a long sigh that carried all the negative emotions that had built up inside him.


    His heart calmed, and his mind regained clarity. He lowered his head, but then froze for a moment, his eyes widening in suspicion. He gently rubbed his blood-filled eye, cleaned it, and looked again in a specific direction.


    There, he saw a column of black smoke rising into the sky. Due to the pitch-black night and the distance, the smoke wasn¡¯t entirely clear, but Sollivan wasn¡¯t foolish enough not to recognize what it was.


    "Campfires?! The shape and size of the smoke can¡¯t be anything else. It¡¯s clear there are people nearby." His sadness and confusion disappeared, replaced by caution and wariness.


    Gulp!


    He swallowed a mouthful of saliva, trying to moisten his dry throat.


    "Should I go and meet them? But considering I¡¯m in a different world, who knows what kind of problems I¡¯ll face when I meet them? Maybe their appearance and language are different.


    And if I can¡¯t communicate with them, I¡¯ll likely be killed due to the misunderstanding that will arise from my sudden appearance in this place and time." After thinking about it, he shook his head. "This isn¡¯t possible." His hesitation wasn¡¯t unjustified.


    Human nature is twisted, and the people nearby might be dangerous. Even if they were ordinary people, they wouldn¡¯t trust someone who appeared suddenly in the middle of a desolate plain full of beasts.


    "Let¡¯s set aside the matter of these people. I need to find a solution for my thirst. If I don¡¯t hydrate my body, my weakness will increase."


    Despite his reluctance to leave his safe spot, he had no choice. Night was the best time for beasts to hunt, but it also provided Sollivan with cover to hide and sharpened his sense of hearing.


    He gathered his courage, then bent down slowly, picked up some soil, and smeared it over his wounds and clothes to mask the pungent smell of blood that covered his body. His method wasn¡¯t 100% effective, but it reduced the spread of his scent and made it more confusing.


    After ensuring everything was fine, he began walking quietly and cautiously toward the stream he had seen in the morning. The distance between them was short, but his slow and careful pace made the journey take a long time.


    His steps were silent, thanks to his use of the Light Steps technique, which eased the burden on his exhausted muscles and joints. His ears were working at full capacity, and whenever he heard a suspicious sound, he froze in place and held his breath.


    After walking for several minutes, he began to hear the sound of fresh water flowing, making him lick his lips involuntarily.


    Without rushing, he maintained his pace and finally reached his destination. The faint moonlight reflected on the water, making it shimmer with a mesmerizing white glow.


    The sound of the flowing water eased his fear of his footsteps being heard. He walked quickly and without hesitation, like a hungry horse, plunging his head into the water that caressed his face and washed away the blood and dirt from his forehead.The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    Gulp!


    Gulp!


    He didn¡¯t lift his head from the water as he began drinking quickly, swallowing some of his blood and the dirt scattered around his face. But he didn¡¯t mind the metallic taste and continued drinking until he ran out of breath.


    Then he lifted his head and looked around cautiously. Drops of water fell from his wet hair, making a faint sound in the lifeless area. But he didn¡¯t feel at ease and continued listening intently. After a minute of stillness, he finally moved.


    He scooped some water with his palm and cleaned the wound on his forehead, noticing that his blood looked dark under the moonlight.


    He didn¡¯t pay much attention to it and washed some scratches on his hands, ignoring the wounds that required him to remove his clothes, like the wound on his back caused by the beast¡¯s claws. After finishing, he looked at the stream and followed its path with his eyes.


    "If I continue walking along the stream, I might find some human settlements. Then, gathering information will be easier, and I won¡¯t attract much suspicion."


    Sollivan bent down again, took a few sips of water, and then headed back to his burrow with a refreshed body. After retracing his previous path, he reached his destination in slightly less time than before.


    When only a few dozen steps remained, he suddenly stopped and felt a faint shiver in his body. His expression twisted, and his gaze froze on the back of the large beast that had chased him earlier, now standing in front of the intertwined trees.


    Scrape!


    Quickly and quietly, Sollivan hid behind the nearest tree and stole a quick glance at the beast, which was cutting tree branches at the entrance with its large claws.


    The sound of wood scraping echoed in the area, accompanied by the beast¡¯s faint growl, sending shivers down the spine of anyone who heard it.


    He held his breath and took a step back, but he accidentally stepped on a small wooden branch, causing a faint cracking sound that made the beast stop and freeze in place.


    "Damn it!" Sollivan couldn¡¯t find enough words to describe his feelings at that moment other than silently cursing in his heart.


    As expected, he saw the beast slowly turn and look in his direction. The beast opened its mouth full of teeth, forming a hideous smile filled with malice.


    Run!


    That smile was like a bell that alerted him. With frantic speed, Sollivan fled, using the Light Steps technique and unleashing all the energy he had saved. Because of this, he quickly put distance between himself and the beast, which was slightly delayed in pursuing him.


    His initial speed was the result of his explosive burst of energy, but after covering dozens of meters, his steps slowed, and his breathing became erratic.


    His body hadn¡¯t recovered much energy, and because of this, he knew he couldn¡¯t run as far as before. He turned his head slightly and looked at the beast chasing him closely, then suddenly changed direction, using the trees to make the beast stumble and slow down.


    Seizing the moment, Sollivan changed his path and headed back toward the intertwined trees. But the beast regained its balance and ran parallel to him, unintentionally blocking his path to the trees.


    His eyes widened, and his steps faltered, but he quickly regained his composure. A dark look appeared on his face, and he stared in a specific direction with tense nerves.


    The beast was blocking his path while simultaneously closing the gap between them. It didn¡¯t take long for him to realize he was trapped. His expression grew darker, and his heart boiled with intense anger. He turned and glared at the beast with dagger-sharp eyes, growling:


    "You want to play rough? Let¡¯s play, then!" He quickly changed direction, stopped conserving his strength, and unleashed all his remaining energy, running as fast as he could.


    Although he was just an ordinary human, his running technique and the zigzag path he took made the beast, which was faster than him, fall behind by several meters.


    But the zigzag path filled with trees began to thin, and after running a few more meters, Sollivan left the tree-filled area and emerged into the endless grassy plain.


    But he didn¡¯t stop. Although his breathing became ragged and his steps began to falter, his eyes remained fixed on the point of light burning in a specific part of the plain.


    After they entered the open area, the beast became much faster than before due to the lack of obstacles. Within seconds, it closed the distance between them significantly.


    Sollivan realized this, but he didn¡¯t try to do anything. His strength had failed him, and all he had left was the power of will and hope driving him forward.


    The burning fire was far away, but he kept running until he could see some small tents and what appeared to be people, their shadowy figures dancing in the flickering firelight.


    Roar!


    The beast, which had caught up to Sollivan, leaped and attacked him with full force, aiming to slash his neck with its sharp claws.


    Sollivan realized this and, as usual, wanted to jump aside and dodge the attack. But his body hesitated for a split second, then he changed his mind, opened his mouth, and shouted at the top of his lungs:


    "Help!"


    The claws reached the back of his neck, but he didn¡¯t stand helpless.


    His body swayed like a slippery snake, and he twisted in a strange, curved motion, causing the sharp claws aimed at his neck to graze his thigh instead. But even that superficial blow was strong enough to knock him off balance and send him spinning like a ballerina before he fell and rolled on the ground.


    Despite the intense pain he felt, his eyes remained fixed on the people in the camp, who suddenly stood up, armed with weapons, and looked in his direction.


    The beast wasn¡¯t stupid. Seeing a group of armed people looking its way, it sensed danger and froze for a moment. Seizing the opportunity, Sollivan quickly stood up and began running, shouting in a hoarse, dry voice:


    "Help!"


    His second shout alerted the cautious people, who then began running toward him, carrying their weapons. But his shout also caught the beast¡¯s attention, and it began running toward him with frenzied speed, eager to kill him before the dangerous people arrived.


    Sollivan realized this and, in a hurried and stumbling manner, began running in a zigzag pattern. But he was too slow.


    The beast reached him and pounced on him with full force. A single blow from it would have been enough to cut Sollivan down and turn him into a lifeless corpse. But he wasn¡¯t a coward or helpless, and he didn¡¯t stand idly by waiting for death. He stopped running and turned around quickly.


    His mind was clear, and he could see everything around him clearly. The people running toward him were still a bit far away, while the beast had reached him, with only a few feet separating them.


    "There¡¯s no choice but to fight." Sollivan let out a long sigh at his miserable self, then changed his stance. He clenched his fists tightly in front of him, and his frown and sadness disappeared, replaced by a sharp, deadly gaze that made him radiate a powerful aura, contrary to his exhausted appearance.


    This aura wasn¡¯t just an illusion, as the beast itself faintly sensed danger. But it didn¡¯t stop or hesitate. It opened its mouth full of teeth and lunged at him, aiming to bite his head.


    Sollivan moved with insane force, unleashing all the strength he had, starting from his feet firmly planted on the ground, which fueled the momentum of his powerful and swift punch.


    Unexpectedly and suddenly, he punched the beast under its chin and near its windpipe.


    Smash!


    The sound of the powerful punch hitting the tough hide echoed in the area, accompanied by a faint scream and howl from both Sollivan and the beast. Sollivan¡¯s fingers broke, and the muscles in his arm tore, while the beast felt a strange dizziness and pain in its head, causing it to freeze and howl in pain.


    Its eyes became bloodshot, and its expression twisted, but despite the intense pain it felt, it attacked Sollivan and struck him with the back of its hand with great force, sending Sollivan, who was standing in place with a pained expression and a stiff body, flying like a feather and landing several meters away, hitting his head on a large rock protruding from the ground.


    "Did I succeed?" His exhausted eyes and stiff body pulsed in harmony.


    His consciousness began to fade little by little, but his vision remained fixed on the beast, which had regained its balance and began running toward him.


    "This is the end, then." He muttered silently and resignedly. He no longer wanted to struggle and had accepted the outcome that would come.


    But despite that, his eyes remained fixed on the beast, and then he saw it hesitate for a moment in


    place before leaping and dodging a long spear that fell and blocked its path.


    "Huh." Sollivan smiled faintly, closed his eyes, and lost consciousness.

 Chapter 6: Unique blood

    A blood-red moon rose in a starless, pitch-black sky, casting its dim crimson light over an endless, desolate land.


    In the midst of this monotonous and eerie scene stood a young man with ordinary features, black hair, and dark eyes, staring expressionlessly at a terrifying, monstrous beast that resembled a grotesque hyena.


    The beast let out a deafening roar, akin to the screams of thousands of mutilated children. Its thick, blood-like saliva splattered onto the ground, corroding it with a sizzling, unsettling sound.


    Despite the horrifying sight, Sollivan remained calm, emotionless, as if detached from the world around him. He stood in silence for what felt like an eternity before finally taking a single step forward.


    Step!


    The ground beneath him shook violently.


    Step!


    Then another. And another. In just four steps, he covered dozens of feet, closing the distance to the raging beast, which remained rooted in place, roaring incessantly.


    Sollivan raised his head and stared at the monstrous, hideous face now only a few feet away from him.


    Terror, helplessness, panic¡ªthese were the emotions anyone else would have felt in his place. Perhaps they would have even wet themselves in fear.


    But Sollivan didn¡¯t flinch, even as the beast¡¯s foul, rancid breath washed over his face, carrying an indescribable stench.


    He raised his tightly clenched fist, radiating an indescribable power, and delivered a punch straight to the beast¡¯s neck.


    Boom!


    The beast¡¯s head jerked violently, twisting at an impossible angle. But that wasn¡¯t the end of it¡ªhundreds of cracks spread across its body, starting from its neck and extending to its limbs, accompanied by a sharp, shattering sound, like a ceramic vase breaking.


    Seeing this, Sollivan¡¯s expression finally changed. A mocking smile spread across his face as he muttered coldly,


    ¡°You¡¯re just a beast.¡±


    He withdrew his fist, clasped his hands behind his back like an emperor surveying his domain, and watched indifferently as the beast howled in agony, slowly crumbling.


    But it didn¡¯t disintegrate completely; instead, its cracked body began to ooze a dark, sticky blood that pooled on the ground, forming a small puddle that quickly expanded.


    Sollivan took a few steps back, his brows furrowed in deep confusion, but he didn¡¯t intervene. The blood continued to flow, turning the puddle into a vast, red lake.


    Then, in an instant, the lake receded abruptly before surging upward, forming a massive wave that grew larger and larger, heading toward the red moon in the sky.


    At that moment, Sollivan¡¯s composure shattered. Terror gripped his features, his confidence and calm demeanor vanished, and he began to run in desperation¡ªbut it was futile.


    The wave crashed down on him, sweeping him away.


    His body was crushed, and the deadly whirlpools dragged him mercilessly, tossing him around like an ant caught in a flood. His eyes turned red, his face flushed, and blood began to seep from every pore of his body.


    He tried to scream, but the blood rushed into his mouth, choking him, suffocating his last breaths. Before he could comprehend what was happening, his body began to dissolve, merging with the raging waters around him.


    He disappeared entirely.


    ...


    ¡°Hooof¡­?!¡±


    Cough¡­! Cough¡­! Cough¡­!


    Sollivan¡¯s eyes snapped open as he gasped wildly, coughing violently. Water spurted from his mouth as if it had been trapped inside him.


    Mucus mixed with water dripped from his nose, sticking to his drenched face. His vision was blurry, and a loud ringing filled his ears as he looked around at the vague shapes surrounding him and the flickering flames in the background. His mind struggled to process what was happening.


    Cough!If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    His physical and emotional pain intertwined, and he couldn¡¯t stop coughing and trembling. His heart pounded madly, and his warm blood gushed from his unhealed wounds, staining the ground beneath him a dark color. He tried to move, but he couldn¡¯t, and his suffering only intensified.


    He was tied to a large pole embedded in the ground.


    After what felt like an eternity, the coughing subsided, but he was still breathing heavily. The blurriness in his vision cleared, but the pain in his head and the ringing in his ears persisted.


    Memories began flooding his mind rapidly¡ª


    His arrival in this strange world¡­


    The terrifying beast¡­


    His desperate fight, his brush with death¡­?!


    Before he could organize his thoughts, a harsh voice, laced with murderous intent, pierced his ears.


    ¡°Who are you? Where did you come from? What is your purpose?¡±


    Sollivan lifted his head with difficulty, drenched and exhausted, looking at the faces before him. They appeared human, but¡­ not entirely.


    In front of him stood several individuals with tall, muscular builds. Small red horns protruded from their foreheads, and hard, pale red scales ran across their brows and necks.


    Their ears, though human-like in structure, were long and pointed. Their other features, though strange, were close to human.


    One of the men frowned as he noticed Sollivan¡¯s eyes quickly scanning them. He stepped forward, lifted a leather pouch filled with water, tore it open, and abruptly poured the cold liquid over Sollivan¡¯s bewildered head.


    ¡°Agh¡­!¡±


    Sollivan¡¯s body convulsed violently, but he couldn¡¯t move due to the ropes binding him.


    Unintentionally, he moved his broken hand, causing him to howl in pain. At that moment, he regained full consciousness and stared at the three figures before him, stunned.


    But the man didn¡¯t stop at pouring water. He grabbed Sollivan¡¯s hand forcefully and pressed on his broken fingers, making him scream in agony.


    ¡°Aaaah¡­!!¡±


    ¡°Ah?!¡±


    Without any regard for his cries, the man repeated his question in a harsh tone.


    ¡°Who are you? Where did you come from? What is your purpose?¡±


    ¡°Answer?!¡±


    He increased the pressure on Sollivan¡¯s hand, watching his pained expression.


    When he saw Sollivan¡¯s eyes begin to lose focus, he stopped squeezing, pulled his hand away, and glanced at the small amount of blood staining his fingers with a complex expression that lasted only a moment before he regained his composure and splashed the remaining water from the pouch onto Sollivan.


    ¡°Hooof¡­!¡±


    Sollivan shuddered again, suppressing a groan. His expression twisted in pain, but despite everything, he showed no resentment or hostility. His mind was racing, but the pain in his head slowed his thoughts.


    After a brief moment, he finally opened his mouth and spoke in a trembling voice.


    ¡°I¡­ I¡­¡±


    But he couldn¡¯t form the words properly.


    The man in front grew impatient and was about to press on Sollivan¡¯s wounds again when one of the men in the back grabbed his shoulder and stopped him.


    This person was different from the others¡ªyounger, with more prominent features. His skin was smooth, his horns longer and sharper, and their color darker than the rest. Despite standing in the back, his presence was overwhelming.


    Sollivan lowered his head helplessly, calming slightly, then finally spoke.


    ¡°I¡¯m Sollivan... I was here... because... I don¡¯t know.¡± He shook his head with a distorted expression and stammered, ¡°I... can¡¯t remember... Ah?!¡±


    A deep frown appeared on the faces of the men before him.


    They exchanged glances, their brows furrowed, before the young man stepped forward and knelt gracefully, bringing himself to Sollivan¡¯s eye level. His sharp, dark eyes bore into Sollivan as he spoke coldly.


    ¡°Sollivan, then... Let me tell you something. We are not patient people, and your silly tricks won¡¯t work on us. So speak up and tell us who you are, and we won¡¯t make things difficult for you.¡±


    A serious look crossed Sollivan¡¯s face as he stared into the young man¡¯s eyes with fear and pain.


    ¡°I really don¡¯t remember anything. All I know is my name. I don¡¯t even know who you are or what I¡¯m doing here. Why are you treating me like this? What have I done to you? Why?¡± His fear began to turn into panic, and he lost his composure.


    His rapid, fear-filled words only deepened the frowns on the men¡¯s faces.


    The rough-looking man¡¯s brow furrowed, and he quickly stepped forward, slapping Sollivan hard across the face. The force of the blow turned Sollivan¡¯s head to the side, and blood sprayed from his mouth and nose. The man growled,


    ¡°You filthy wretch, how dare you raise your voice at the young chief!¡± He raised his hand to strike again.


    ¡°Warrior Willard, that¡¯s enough,¡± the young man said indifferently. He then looked at Sollivan, who was staring wide-eyed in the opposite direction, his lips moving as if he were saying something, but no sound came out.


    For a brief moment, a dark expression flashed across Sollivan¡¯s face before it turned to sheer terror. He began to tremble and raised his head to look at the young man¡¯s eyes, utterly stunned.


    The young man¡¯s brows furrowed, and he turned to Willard with a meaningful look before saying to Sollivan,


    ¡°I¡¯ll give you ten minutes. When I return, I want a satisfactory answer.¡± He stood calmly and gestured for Willard to follow him.


    ...


    [Willard¡¯s POV]


    Willard raised his hand, which had been gripping Sollivan¡¯s broken fingers, and looked at the dark blue blood staining his rough skin. Though he didn¡¯t show it, his hand trembled for a moment before stopping.


    He felt a mix of emotions and wondered inwardly, ¡°Primordial blood...¡± Even though he had seen it before, touching it made him feel a sense of inferiority.


    His complex emotions lingered for a moment before he turned his stern gaze back to Sollivan, who was writhing in pain.


    When he saw Sollivan¡¯s lips move as if trying to speak, his frown deepened, and he wanted to inflict more pain. But then he felt a strong hand grip his shoulder. He turned his head respectfully and looked at the young man with the powerful aura behind him.


    ¡°That¡¯s enough, Willard,¡± the young man said.


    Willard took a step back and, without waiting long, saw Blear stand and gesture for him to follow.


    The two walked slowly to the edge of the camp. The number of people in the camp was small, but due to the sudden incident, the rest had been dispersed in all directions to monitor their surroundings.


    When they reached a relatively empty spot, they stopped. Blear looked at Willard with wide eyes, unable to hide the shock he had concealed earlier. ¡°Is what we saw true? This person has primordial blood.¡±


    Willard couldn¡¯t pinpoint his emotions, but his face twitched, and his expression became unusually stern. ¡°When I touched it, I felt the blood in my body tremble with inferiority.¡±


    ¡°Even if I don¡¯t believe my eyes, my instincts can¡¯t be wrong,¡± Blear said with confidence, but he lowered his head and looked at the ground uncertainly.


    ¡°How can someone with primordial blood appear in this remote part of the vast plains? It¡¯s impossible,¡± Blear added, scratching his forehead as if trying to massage his brain, which was struggling to find a solution.


    Willard thought for a moment, then spoke. ¡°We can¡¯t decide this matter on our own. Even though this person is lying about his identity, killing someone with primordial blood or leaving him be could bring a lot of trouble. We don¡¯t know who supports him.¡±


    Blear was surprised and asked, ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    Willard shook his head. ¡°There¡¯s something wrong with this person. Even though he has noble blood, he¡¯s incredibly weak. And his body doesn¡¯t bear any of the characteristics of the three primordial lineages.¡±


    Blear was puzzled, and his confusion grew. After a brief silence, he finally decided.


    ¡°The only two people in the tribe who can make a suitable decision about this are the chief and the priest. It seems we¡¯ll have to take him with us.¡±


    The faint chirping of a bird echoed across the vast, silent plains, making Blear and Willard look to the east.


    ¡°Dawn has already arrived. The events of this hectic night have left us unable to rest. Tell the men to pack up the camp. We¡¯ll head back to the tribe in two hours.¡±


    ...


    Sollivan stared at the large fire in the center of the camp, his expression lost and his body tense with fear. His eyes were filled with confusion and a hint of despair, but his mind grew calmer.


    ¡®My face betrayed me. Everything happened so suddenly. These brutes didn¡¯t give me a moment to think about what to say or do.¡¯


    He sighed silently. ¡®These people aren¡¯t simple. Their numbers aren¡¯t small, and they¡¯re well-trained and well-armed.¡¯ His thoughts paused as he remembered something.


    He lowered his head slowly and looked at his blood-stained clothes. In the clear light of the fire, he noticed the unfamiliar color of his blood¡ªit wasn¡¯t red but a dark blue.


    Sollivan was stunned. ¡®My blood is different. This explains their strange reactions.¡¯ With his limited knowledge and the shock of the situation, he couldn¡¯t form a logical explanation. But he was sure of one thing: his blood wasn¡¯t normal.


    ¡®Things are getting more complicated.¡¯

 Chapter 7: Strange tribe

    In the midst of the vast, monotonous, and repetitive plains, a small caravan composed of dozens of people and a few horses and carts loaded with supplies made its way.


    Most of the caravan members walked on foot, while the young leader Blear and Willard rode on massive horses, leading the group of warriors toward their destination.


    The horses they rode were not ordinary. They had massive bodies, sharp horns protruding from the center of their foreheads, blood-red eyes, and sharp fangs, making them resemble monsters more than domesticated horses.


    But the most peculiar feature of their bodies was the natural, solid armor made of their skin, which spread from their hooves to their bellies and stopped at their necks. The upper part of their bodies, their backs, were covered in fur, making riding them somewhat comfortable.


    In the middle of the caravan, where the largest number of armed warriors were gathered, Sollivan''s hands were tied to one of the carts, forcing him to walk hurriedly and stumble as his back slightly hunched from his inability to keep up with the caravan''s pace. This caused him to be dragged forward involuntarily.


    His broken hand was wrapped in thick, strange brown leather, tightly bound to prevent his fingers from moving, which somewhat alleviated his pain.


    Nevertheless, his breathing was erratic and labored, and his body was drenched in sticky sweat that made his dirty clothes cling to his skin.


    Despite his many attempts to steady his breathing, he couldn''t hide his exhaustion. But the caravan didn''t stop to rest, making his expression grow darker.


    He looked around helplessly, scanning his surroundings. If it weren¡¯t for the occasional scattered trees, anyone in his position would have thought they were walking in place.


    "Huff!"


    ''There are no hills or elevations, just a flat plain full of grass and a few trees. Even the beasts and animals are almost nonexistent. Throughout the journey, I¡¯ve only seen a few birds.


    This land is like an endless desert plain. Seeing this monotonous view for a long time would make anyone stuck here uncomfortable. But that¡¯s not the problem.''


    He shook his head irritably and glanced at the warriors surrounding him, muttering.


    ''How much farther do we have to go before these people stop to rest? We¡¯ve been walking for five hours at a very fast pace, but they haven¡¯t shown any desire to stop.''


    He lowered his head and looked at their feet, observing their strange way of walking for a short while before letting out a sarcastic sigh.


    ''Ordinary humans can¡¯t keep up with trained warriors.''


    He wasn¡¯t blind, and he knew they were using some kind of movement technique, like light steps. For him, the distance they had covered was extremely long and had exhausted his body.


    If it weren¡¯t for his strong willpower, he wouldn¡¯t have been able to continue. But for the warriors around him, their pace was very slow, to the point that some of them complained about it.


    ...


    Hours passed, and the sun began to set peacefully, but the caravan didn¡¯t stop.


    Instead, they continued their journey at an even faster pace. Each step they took covered a great distance. As for Sollivan , he sat on one of the carts and silently watched their path.


    A few hours earlier, he had reached his limit and could no longer walk, causing him to collapse and be dragged by the cart. The caravan finally stopped because of this, and after a brief consultation, they decided to place him on the cart and continue their journey.


    They could have done this from the beginning, but Sollivan was just a prisoner who couldn¡¯t expect kind or respectful treatment. If he hadn¡¯t been slowing them down, they wouldn¡¯t have moved him to the cart.


    Despite the rest he had gotten, his nerves didn¡¯t relax, and his expression grew darker.


    His sharp eyes kept looking at the strange shape that had appeared in the distance on the plain. His body tensed and twitched involuntarily, but in the end, he could only mock himself.


    ''Can¡¯t things be a little easier? Ever since I came here, I¡¯ve been jumping from one danger to another, facing problems beyond my capacity.''


    He raised his head and looked at the crimson sky that was about to darken, smiling bitterly.


    ''It¡¯s all so ironic. I¡¯d rather go back home and read books. One adventure in this life is enough for me.''


    He fell silent, lamenting his uncertain fate, but despite that, he quickly regained his composure and turned to look at the warriors around him with curiosity.


    He was no longer anxious¡ªor rather, he hid his anxiety by letting his curious personality take over. He observed the warriors and examined their bodies carefully.


    ''I wonder, what is the name of their race? It¡¯s clear they¡¯re not human, despite the slight similarities between us.''


    He thought for a moment, furrowing his brows with a complicated expression.


    ''Ignorance is a fatal weakness. I¡¯ve read all kinds of books and manuscripts, but all my knowledge is useless now. That¡¯s why they say: A thousand miles of travel is better than reading a thousand books.''


    He mocked his own ignorance, then cleared his mind and began reviewing everything that had happened to him, raising the questions he deemed appropriate.


    ''There are significant differences between us, and we share no connection or knowledge.


    This puts me in a weak position, and I¡¯ll be seen as a threat. That¡¯s not the problem here. They¡¯re strong, and I¡¯m weak, which makes me nothing more than a lamb waiting to be slaughtered.''


    His mouth twitched as he thought about it, and he involuntarily swallowed a mouthful of saliva.If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    ''No, it¡¯s clear they don¡¯t know what to do with me. Is this because of my blood? This complicates things even more. Maybe I¡¯ll become a slave. Ah, there¡¯s no use thinking about it. I can¡¯t find any solutions or answers. This is frustrating.''


    He resisted the urge to scream in surrender, but in the end, he raised his head and let out a long sigh that all the warriors around him noticed.


    ''Everything will be revealed soon.''


    ...


    His gaze fell on the small, strangely shaped city ahead of them.


    At its center stood a massive structure resembling a tall, primitive cylindrical tower. It had no features¡ªno windows, no pointed peaks, no protruding shapes¡ªjust a stone cylinder, with some blue grass growing on it, altering its color in some places.


    But the rest of the city¡¯s components weren¡¯t visible due to a massive wall surrounding it on all sides. There were a few small towers designated for archers, but they weren¡¯t very tall or well-crafted.


    For Sollivan , who had seen the architectural beauty of the Golden Lion Kingdom, this city seemed crude, dilapidated, and extremely primitive. Even the Red Bell City where he lived, which he despised for its backwardness, seemed advanced in comparison.


    The materials used in the construction were random and inconsistent. A large part of the wall was made of square yellow stones stacked together, but in some sections, it was built of wood or patched with clay and bones.


    Even after examining the massive wall, he didn¡¯t think much about it. He didn¡¯t have the luxury of enjoying the scenery.


    When the caravan reached the city¡¯s large iron gate, his heart began to pound, and his body tensed. His thoughts fell silent, and the only thing left in his mind was a single sentence repeating like an alarm.


    ''Whatever lies beyond this gate, I must survive.''


    In the tall towers beside the gate, the guards watched the caravan of warriors with confused faces full of questions. They glanced at each other in bewilderment, and none of them dared to leave their posts.


    The young leader Blear and Willard saw this but didn¡¯t do anything.


    They remained standing in their places, looking at a specific spot. After a few moments, a large, burly man with a thick beard and disheveled hair appeared.


    His face was marred by a massive scar that ran from the middle of his head to his chin. His face looked fierce and terrifying, but contrary to his appearance, his eyes were calm and clear, out of place with his demeanor.


    "Open the gate," the fierce man ordered in a calm voice, then left his position without looking back.


    Creak!


    The iron gate slowly opened, revealing the interior of the small city, which consisted of hundreds of small houses¡ªor rather, hundreds of large tents made of beast hides and wood.


    The tents were arranged in an orderly manner, forming neighborhoods and streets, with some empty spaces here and there. A wide street divided the city into two sections, starting from the large gate.


    The group of warriors and Sollivan entered through the gate and walked down the wide street. Whenever the passersby saw them, they made way and stood to the side with their hands clasped over their chests and their heads held high.


    Even Sollivan , drowning in fear, couldn¡¯t resist the urge to enjoy the strange and fascinating sight of the city.


    When he saw the people¡¯s actions on the sides of the road, he immediately realized it was a form of respectful greeting filled with reverence.


    He looked at the young leader riding his horse with pride and dignity, like a crowned prince. Then he remembered some of the warriors¡¯ conversations about him.


    ''They referred to him as the young leader. Does that mean he¡¯s like the royal heir here? What an honor to be captured by their prince personally.''


    Despite his sarcasm, his expression remained dark, and it grew even darker when he saw the caravan approaching a large, arched tent in the center of the city. Due to its enormous size, the tent looked like a small palace.


    As for the stone tower, after entering the city, its location became clear to Sollivan. Contrary to his expectations, it wasn¡¯t located in the center of the tribe but at its end, outside the wall surrounding the tribe, isolated from the rest.


    ''The feeling of helplessness refuses to leave me.''


    The caravan stopped in front of the large tent¡¯s gate, surrounded by strong warriors wearing thick leather armor.


    Their armor wasn¡¯t well-crafted, and even the armor of low-ranking guards in his kingdom was better. But it was clear that the materials they used were of very high quality and expensive.


    Sollivan wasn¡¯t a master of the Arcane or someone who had strengthened his body, but he had seen many strong people in his life. He immediately realized that the guards of the large tent were extremely powerful individuals, the elite warriors of this tribe.


    "Get down," Willard stood by the cart and pointed at him with a stern expression.


    Without hesitation, Sollivan climbed down from the cart and stood politely and respectfully.


    But contrary to his polite demeanor, Willard grabbed his arm with a strong grip, making him groan, and dragged him hurriedly toward the tent¡¯s gate. The guards in the area watched them with sharp, hawk-like eyes, but they didn¡¯t do anything and remained standing like stone statues.


    Blear walked at the front, and as soon as he reached the gate and was about to enter, he paused for a moment, causing Willard and Sollivan to stop as well.


    He turned slowly and looked at the warriors who had accompanied him, then ordered in a very stern voice.


    "No one is allowed to leave until the leader decides on this matter.


    If any of the information you¡¯ve witnessed leaks out, you will be executed. Is that understood?!"


    All the warriors nodded and thumped their chests with their clenched fists.


    "Understood."


    Their voices were as strong as their bodies, making Sollivan''s ears ache.


    Despite hearing his followers¡¯ response, Blear didn¡¯t show any reaction. All he did was look at one of the guards at the gate.


    "Make sure they carry out this order."


    Unlike the other warriors, the guard didn¡¯t overreact. He simply nodded faintly and returned to standing like a statue.


    They began walking again and entered through the large gate, arriving at a long hallway with some closed wooden doors on the sides. But at the end of the hallway was a large door guarded by two tall figures.


    Blear''s stern expression and fierce aura, which radiated strength, became subdued and filled with respect. His strong steps became lighter, as if he didn¡¯t want to disturb the sanctity of the place.


    Sollivan saw the changes in him and sneered inwardly with resentment.


    He wanted to curse Blear and Willard , who was hurting his shoulder, at the top of his lungs, but he resisted that overwhelming urge to avoid hastening his death. He continued walking with dignity and calm, even though he was being dragged forcefully by Willard.


    His eyes burned with intense anger, but his face was filled with fear that he tried to hide. He wasn¡¯t acting or pretending¡ªit was the truth of his feelings. No matter how strong his willpower was, he wasn¡¯t an unshakable person.


    He passed by the guards at the large door, and at that moment, he felt his blood pulse strangely.


    But that feeling quickly faded after they passed through and entered a large hall in the middle of the palace tent. The tent was well-lit despite the absence of any flames.


    Sollivan raised his head and looked at the large, glowing stone emitting a pure white light at the top of the hall.


    ''A glowing stone.''


    This stone wasn¡¯t unfamiliar to him. He had seen it in his uncle¡¯s palace and in the palaces of powerful families. Although glowing stones weren¡¯t extremely rare, they were still expensive, especially one of this size, which he had never seen before.


    He didn¡¯t stare at the stone for long, then quickly looked around and examined the hall, decorated with the finest types of soft leather and covered with a very smooth carpet. Finally, his gaze fell on the end of the hall, where a large throne stood slightly elevated as a sign of high status.


    But he didn¡¯t contemplate the throne for long, because as soon as he saw the person sitting on it and their eyes met, his blood began to boil again.


    This time, the boiling was so intense that he felt a great heat in his body.


    His thoughts stopped, and he couldn¡¯t calm himself. He didn¡¯t understand what was happening to him, but his eyes didn¡¯t leave the person sitting on the ornate throne.


    It was a noble-looking man in his late thirties, exuding a powerful and noble aura. He looked at Sollivan with sharp eyes that seemed to pierce deep into his soul.


    Like the others he had seen before, this man wasn¡¯t ordinary¡ªhe seemed even more peculiar. His horns were extremely long and sharp compared to the others, and his scales were a deep crimson. Unlike the others, his scales weren¡¯t just on his forehead and neck but extended down to below his eyes. Even his irises were brown with a reddish tint.


    His face was chiseled with a masculine structure, and his eyebrows looked sharp like swords. Although he didn¡¯t say anything, Sollivan , frozen in place, felt a slight suffocation just by looking at him.


    He didn¡¯t understand the reason and didn¡¯t have the chance to think about it because he was trying to calm his strangely burning body. After several seconds, he finally managed to lower his head and calm himself. He looked at the ground, his face drenched in sweat, and didn¡¯t dare to raise his head again.


    His emotions and thoughts churned in silence. At this moment, he was certain that he couldn¡¯t do anything. Whatever his fate was, he had to stop all desires to resist and accept it.


    ...


    While he was lost in his inner turmoil, the young leader Blear stepped forward and stood before the throne, thumping his chest with his strong fist.


    "This young man greets the Supreme Leader."


    He lowered his hand, opened his fist, and patted his chest more gently, then greeted again.


    "This young man greets the High Priest."


    His second greeting was directed at a strange man standing behind the emperor¡¯s throne.


    Unlike the others, the High Priest wore a black robe that covered his entire body and head, revealing only his pale eyes, which remained fixed on Sollivan in a strange manner. Even hidden behind his robe, he couldn¡¯t hide the widening of his eyes.


    After a brief moment of stillness, the High Priest¡¯s eyebrows furrowed, and he glanced quickly at the Supreme Leader, who remained fixed on **Sollivan**. He didn¡¯t do or say anything, like the others, and waited silently for the Supreme Leader to speak with his rigid expression.


    None of the attendees were surprised by this strange development, as the Supreme Leader was the person with the purest blood in their tribe.


    It was clear that the reaction his blood had upon sensing primordial blood was the strongest among them. After a long silence, the Supreme Leader finally spoke.


    "This is truly unbelievable."


    His voice was strong and eloquent in a strange way.


    But after saying these few words, he fell silent again for a few seconds before saying in a slightly harsh tone


    "High Priest Otieno, examine his body."


    It seemed as though the High Priest had been eagerly waiting for these words.


    He hurriedly walked forward without responding to the king and stood in front of Sollivan , who didn¡¯t dare to raise his head again, fearing he might lose control of his body once more.


    Everything that had happened to him since arriving in this world was so strange that he couldn¡¯t keep up with it all. Even now, he couldn¡¯t think clearly.


    Before he realized it, he saw a tall, dark shadow standing in front of him. He felt the grip on his shoulder loosen as **Willard** released him and took a respectful step back.


    He finally raised his head and looked at the tall, dark figure before him, seeing only his strange black eyes.


    But this time, his blood didn¡¯t react. On the contrary, he felt a cold shiver deep in his soul. Vaguely, he didn¡¯t understand the reason for his dark feeling and strange fear.


    Before he could say anything, he saw a pale, thin hand with slightly unnaturally long fingers gripping his uninjured wrist. Despite the icy coldness he felt and the terrifying tremors overwhelming his heart, he didn¡¯t dare pull his hand away.

 Chapter 8: The Truth of Blood

    A cold sensation emanated from his wrist, spreading throughout his entire body, as if an invisible eye were staring deep into his soul. He held his breath for a moment and furrowed his brows.


    Earlier, when he had seen the bodies of the warriors and felt their powerful auras, he realized they belonged to an elite group of the strong. But now, he was utterly stunned by the strength of this small tribe.


    Everyone knew that when Arcane Masters reached a certain level, they developed what was known as "superior perception," akin to having extra eyes that could see everything. For the first time in his life, he felt this sensation sweeping over his entire body.


    Despite his astonishment, his eyes never left the priest''s, and he cautiously observed the expressions on the priest''s face.


    At first, he noticed the priest opening his eyes in surprise, but after a few seconds, that surprise turned into deep confusion, causing the priest''s brows to arch.


    A few seconds later, the priest hesitantly removed his cold hand from Sollivan''s wrist, as if wanting to examine his body again, but he didn''t. Instead, he turned to look at the Supreme Leader.


    At that moment, Sollivan let out a sigh of relief.


    But before he could fully relax, he felt a strong hand grip his arm. He slowly turned his head and frowned at Willard, but he didn''t utter a word, enduring it in silence. Then he refocused his attention on the priest, who remained silent.


    A strange look appeared in the priest''s eyes, and Sollivan listened intently to what he would say next.


    This was his only chance to unravel some of the mysteries surrounding his condition and gain information. Ever since he noticed the cautious way the warriors had treated him, his mind had been filled with questions.


    After a moment of hesitation, the priest declared firmly, "He indeed possesses primal blood. The young leader''s suspicions were not mistaken." His words struck like a thunderbolt, leaving everyone in shock.


    Even the guards, who had remained as silent as statues, involuntarily stumbled in their places. Everyone turned at the same moment and stared at Sollivan with sharp eyes filled with fear.


    Even Sollivan himself opened his mouth in astonishment. ''Primal blood? What is that? Why is everyone so shocked? Is it something great or terrible?''*


    At first, he thought the priest''s answer would clear up the confusion, but it only deepened his bewilderment. He quickly glanced around, his eyes eventually landing on the Supreme Leader, whose face bore a stern and serious expression, though he tried to hide it.


    No one noticed that the priest had shown a strange expression and hesitantly opened his mouth before declaring once more.


    "His blood is primal, but it is not pure. It is filled with impurities, and he is not a pure Kornavar like us. In fact, he is a hybrid of another race."


    Everyone in the room gasped again, and even the Supreme Leader let out a relieved sigh, his tense expression easing slightly. Sollivan, who had been observing him from the beginning, noticed this and felt a sharp pang in his heart.


    He turned his head and scanned the faces of those present, finding that their shock had lessened, replaced by complex expressions. He didn''t understand why.


    ''The word "hybrid" changed everyone''s attitude. What does it mean? And why am I a hybrid? Are all these changes that happened to me because of that strange black book?''


    The questions in his mind multiplied, but he remembered something.


    ''So their race is called Kornavar. I was sure they weren''t human like me, even though I''ve become half-Kornavar and something else.''


    After a minute of silence, Blear asked the question that was on everyone''s mind.


    "What is his full race, Your Eminence, the High Priest? You are the only one qualified to determine that."


    There weren''t many races in their world, and the vast plains they lived in were ruled by scattered tribes. No trace of other races had appeared throughout known history.


    Blear was burning with curiosity, as he was a young man who had yet to experience the adventures of exploring the distant world. Though he tried to hide it, his question carried a hint of envy.


    In the "Red Horns" tribe, the High Priest was the most knowledgeable, for two reasons. First, as a priest, he had studied in the Priest''s Tower, granting him knowledge even the Supreme Leader couldn''t access.


    Second, Priest Otieno had left the tribe in his youth and wandered the plains. There were rumors that he had reached the western borders before heading to the central city where the Priest''s Tower stood.


    The priest remained silent and didn''t answer Blear immediately, but the latter wasn''t annoyed and waited patiently. Everyone understood that determining the race of a stranger was a difficult task.


    Even Sollivan felt curious and wanted to know the answer. He looked at the priest, who seemed lost in thought, and suddenly the priest turned to him and grabbed his wrist again.


    He felt the same cold shiver, but this time he didn''t flinch. Instead, the priest stared at Sollivan, examining every part of his body.


    He withdrew his hand and touched Sollivan''s forehead with his cold fingers, feeling the smooth black scales, unlike their own hard scales. He opened Sollivan''s eyes and looked into his black pupils, then placed his hand on his chin and opened his mouth.


    No one interrupted, and everyone waited in anticipation. Even the Supreme Leader, who had dominated the atmosphere in the room, faded into the background as everyone''s curiosity grew.


    Meeting someone with primal blood was no ordinary event, even if his blood was impure.


    After a moment of silence, everyone regained their composure, and the shock on their faces was replaced with looks of challenge and envy. Even Willard, who stood to the side, shot Sollivan a glance of inexplicable hatred.If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    Finally, the priest released Sollivan''s hand and stepped back slightly, allowing Sollivan to breathe a sigh of relief. His entire body had been examined to the point where he felt embarrassed and violated by the intrusion into his privacy.


    The priest looked at the Supreme Leader, and this time his gaze was filled with relief, without any confusion or hesitation.


    He said calmly, "He is half-human. This explains why his body lacks any distinctive features and why he is so weak. Everyone knows that humans are impure beings, with a weak lineage and great sin."


    All of Sollivan''s complex emotions vanished, replaced by a strange expression on his face. He had been eager to learn any information about humans, but what he heard froze him in place. "Humans are a sinful and weak race."


    He didn''t fully understand the meaning of the priest''s words, but he realized they were directed at the Supreme Leader, who now looked completely at ease.


    Sollivan wasn''t stupid, and he immediately understood that the tribe had been tense because of his primal blood, but learning that he was a human hybrid had dispelled their concerns.


    ''What does this mean? Humans can''t be that weak. Even if their tribe is strong, I''m sure the Golden Lion Empire could easily wipe out this tribe.


    Is there a reason behind this? And what does he mean by lineage? Humans in my world rely on energy, not lineages like beasts.''


    There were significant differences in the concepts he knew.


    The humans who ruled his world were merely an impure and weak race in this world, and perhaps their training methods were different or nonexistent. He didn''t understand the intense hatred for humans, but the word "sinful" gave him an idea of their status.


    Willard glanced at Sollivan with a hint of hidden schadenfreude, then turned his attention to the Supreme Leader.


    After uncovering the mystery surrounding Sollivan, the High Priest returned to stand behind the large throne, awaiting the Supreme Leader''s final decision.


    Blear, standing at the back, sighed softly and let out a long breath, then looked at Sollivan one last time and muttered under his breath, "My worry was unnecessary, but things won''t end so simply.


    Even if he''s half-human, he still has primal blood. It''s clear that Father won''t rush into any decisions."


    His thoughts were on point. Earlier, when they were leading Sollivan to the tribe, he had sent a message to his father, informing him of everything, but he kept some ambiguity.


    He didn''t tell them that Sollivan had primal blood, only that he suspected it. The strange characteristics of Sollivan had made them certain that something was amiss, and now everything was clear.


    The Supreme Leader''s stern gaze swept over everyone in the room, making them shiver. Then he spoke in a rough, authoritative voice, "This person will remain with us, and we won''t make any decisions for now.


    To avoid any unwanted incidents, he will be marked with the Well''s seal. As for everyone present here, you will keep everything that happened a secret.


    This is confidential information that must not reach enemy tribes or even members of our own tribe.


    Blear, relay my words to your followers. Anyone who dares to leak this information will be exterminated along with their family. This tribe has not encountered any strangers in recent days."


    Everyone fell silent and listened intently. Even after hearing his threat of execution for traitors, no one blinked or seemed surprised. In fact, his orders were less severe than they had expected.


    The Supreme Leader raised his hand and opened his mouth, but he paused for a moment. "This hybrid will be detained in the Well''s Tower. He cannot leave, and no one can meet him. Priest Otieno."


    The priest stepped forward quickly and stood before the Supreme Leader with utmost respect. "What are your orders, Your Excellency?"


    "I leave this person in your custody. Handle him with care." The Supreme Leader''s tone was cold and threatening. A dark glint appeared in his eyes as he scrutinized Priest Otieno.


    The priest showed no reaction, only bowing his head slightly and replying submissively, "Your words are law, my lord. Who would dare to disobey?"


    The Supreme Leader waved his hand, "Everyone may leave, except Blear."


    His tone was as cold as ever, but it softened slightly when he mentioned his son''s name. No one reacted to the order, and everyone began to leave, including the guards.


    Sollivan remained standing, observing the room with a dark, enigmatic expression.


    Because of this, Willard yanked him forcefully, causing him to stumble and rush toward the door.


    A mocking smile appeared on Willard''s face, as if he were laughing silently, but Sollivan only gave him a sidelong glance before straightening his posture and walking slowly, as if he weren''t a prisoner but a guest.


    His cold demeanor wasn''t unjustified. He hadn''t been in control of his fate since being captured. If his fate was death, he would accept it with dignity without bowing his head to these people.


    As he walked proudly through the castle''s corridor, he felt an intense cold spreading across his back.


    Without turning around, he sensed a cold presence behind him, rendering him unable to do anything but walk in silence. Even the pride in his steps faded, and he couldn''t maintain his composure.


    Behind him, beside Willard, Priest Otieno suddenly appeared and walked silently, his strange eyes fixed on Sollivan''s back.


    Because of this sudden appearance, Willard shuddered and broke out in a cold sweat.


    All his arrogance and mockery vanished, and his steps became devoid of pride, as if he had tucked his head into his neck, wanting to disappear from the priest''s sight. The priests weren''t particularly liked by the tribe members due to their strange temperaments and dark auras.


    Everyone knew the reason was their dealings with the Well, which tainted everything around it. Despite their deep respect for the priests, they couldn''t coexist with them amicably.


    "Damn it," Sollivan cursed silently and swallowed a mouthful of cold saliva. He didn''t know why, but ever since meeting the priest, he had felt a bad premonition. Though it was unnatural, he didn''t want to ignore it.


    Since coming to this world, his strange senses had saved him from several deadly dangers. He frowned worriedly, *''This man has something bad in mind.


    I don''t know what it is, but it''s not good for me. Even the Supreme Leader seemed wary of him earlier, to the point of threatening him not to do anything strange. Can''t things be easier?''* Even his desire to curse vanished, replaced by deep sarcasm at his bad luck.


    ...


    After leaving the Supreme Leader''s palace and passing through the silent, torch-lit tribe, Sollivan, his guards, and the High Priest finally reached the end of the main street running through the center of the tribe, arriving at the protective wall.


    But this side looked completely different due to the cylindrical tower connected to it. In the wall, there was a massive metal gate guarded by four individuals.


    Unlike the regular warriors who wore leather armor, these guards were dressed in dark black robes that covered their entire bodies, similar to the High Priest, but with additional layers of light leather armor over their robes, indicating their status as warrior priests.


    When they saw the High Priest and the entourage of guards accompanying him, two guards stepped forward and gently touched their chests with their palms.


    Their greeting was gentle, unlike the warriors'' salute, which was filled with cruelty and strength, making Sollivan slightly surprised. To him, the priests seemed like an independent organization, even though they were part of the tribe. Even their base was outside the city walls and strangely fortified.


    "Open the gate. You two will guard this person. The rest, leave."


    The priest gestured for the accompanying warriors and Willard to leave, which they did without hesitation.


    In fact, their steps were unusually quick, making Sollivan feel that there was something wrong with the place he was being taken to.


    He raised his head, looking up at the tall, dark tower, then took a step forward toward the guards standing in front of him.


    He had spent a long and arduous day, and exhaustion weighed heavily on his body, but he kept his senses alert, watching the black door leading into the tower as it slowly opened.


    As soon as it opened wide enough, a chilling darkness seeped into the area, and the torches around him seemed to dim significantly.


    For a moment, he thought he saw shadows moving, forming sinister shapes, but it lasted only a brief moment before everything returned to normal, and the interior of the tower became clear before him.


    The guards pushed him inside, and they walked alongside the priest through a long corridor with branching side passages, lined with torches and doors along the walls.


    Their footsteps made faint sounds as they led him to an unknown destination, and during that time, he began to carefully examine his surroundings. He looked at the walls made of square stones but frowned for a moment.


    ''These aren''t rocks... they''re much lighter. They seem more like a powdered material mixed and shaped in some way.''


    He had read about some civilizations that built their homes from certain types of soil that later hardened to become as strong as rock.


    He had also read about secret techniques that could alter the nature of materials through complex reactions, making them suitable for use in specific environments.


    Only a few minutes had passed inside this strange tower, but he immediately realized it wasn''t an ordinary structure¡ªit had been built for a specific purpose.


    The tower was massive, with many rooms and floors, and he caught glimpses of staircases leading to them as he walked. He continued analyzing everything around him until the group stopped in front of a large white door guarded by two burly men.


    Clang!


    The priest pulled out a large set of keys from his robe, containing three large keys. He selected one and inserted it into a small hole in the door, then turned it.


    Creak!


    Rumble!


    The door automatically slid to the side, and the ground shook slightly, emitting a loud creaking sound from behind the walls. At that moment, Sollivan was surprised by the thickness and weight of the door, as well as the relatively advanced mechanism in this primitive tribe.


    His former kingdom had been highly advanced in several fields, and when he arrived in this tribe, he had thought they were technologically backward. But this moment made him reevaluate his view of them.


    "Move."


    One of the guards pushed him forward, and they walked through the dark staircase behind the door, but they only took a few steps before encountering another white door.


    The priest pulled out another key and opened the door in the same manner, then they continued until they reached the third door, just as Sollivan had expected.


    As soon as the last door was opened, the two guards stopped and pushed him forward, past the priest, who showed no interest. Then, without turning to him, the priest pushed him from behind and said coldly, "Keep walking."


    Sollivan turned his head slightly, only to be startled by the priest''s eyes, which had become strangely dark, sending a shiver down his spine.


    Whoosh!


    At that moment, he felt a cold breeze seep into his bones, making him hesitate for a moment before looking toward the end of the dark staircase. Part of him screamed to stop, but the reality was clear¡ªhe had no choice. Stopping meant being dragged down by force, which could worsen his situation.


    Gulp!


    He pushed aside his hesitation and slowly walked down the dark staircase until he reached the bottom. There, he saw a faint light barely illuminating the space ahead, making his blurry vision slightly clearer.


    Then, as he took the last step off the staircase, his eyes widened, and his body froze in shock at what he saw before him¡­

 Chapter 9: A Human Shadow

    He had read many descriptions of strange places in his world, but he had never seen or heard of anything resembling what he was witnessing now. His body froze, and his blood began to simmer faintly. His eyes remained fixed on the black figure in the center of the dark, vast hall.


    The figure wasn¡¯t clear; it looked like a massive abyss filled with a sticky black substance moving in all directions randomly.


    Although the sides of the hall were illuminated by dozens of glowing stones, the light seemed to be absorbed into that black hole, from which a cold breeze whispered like the breath of death, accompanied by an indescribable, strange odor.


    "Move." The priest pushed him from behind, snapping him out of his daze and causing him to take a stumbling step forward.


    He stopped himself and quickly glanced around before his eyes returned to the pit that resembled a deep abyss¡ªor rather, a well of tragedies.


    During his quick scan of the room, he noticed several people present, dressed in black robes like all the priests he had seen before. However, unlike them, the auras of these individuals seemed faint and muddled, as if they had been dipped in a pit of sticky mud.


    He walked slowly and hesitantly, approaching the strange pit.


    As he got closer, the simmering in his blood intensified, but this time it wasn¡¯t hot. Instead, he felt an intense cold running through him, as if his blood was rushing with eagerness and longing, accompanied by something else.


    Unconsciously, his nose began to bleed. Drops of his blood fell to the ground, and with each drop, the darkness in the black well rippled toward him, as if drawn by a mysterious force.


    His hesitant steps came to a halt, and he wanted to retreat, but suddenly he saw the darkness gather together, forming a large, tentacle-like appendage. It wasn¡¯t solid but rather sticky, like a muddy tentacle dripping with drops of darkness.


    The appendage crawled across the ground, leaving behind a trail of black liquid. At that moment, Sollivan wanted to retreat and escape, but he couldn¡¯t. He faintly realized that his body was frozen in place by a mysterious force that prevented him from moving.


    His expression contorted, but he didn¡¯t allow panic to take over. He kept watching the appendage as it slowly crawled toward him until it reached the spot where his blood had fallen.


    "What is this thing?" he thought silently as he observed the appendage touching his blood and beginning to absorb it.


    The appendage emitted a strong pulsating sound, then suddenly leaped toward his face¡ªor rather, toward his blood.


    Sollivan wanted to retreat, but he forgot that his body was immobilized. Before he could react, the priests in the hall finally moved, making strange gestures with their hands at a frantic speed.


    Their energy harmonized, and several black chains emerged from their hands, intertwining before falling over the mouth of the well, covering it like a large net that emitted an annoying clinking sound.


    The shadowy appendage that had reached Sollivan¡¯s face disintegrated into a black mist, colliding with him and scattering in all directions.


    Cough! Cough!


    The darkness in the hall lessened, and all the priests around the well let out a long sigh. They looked at him simultaneously with eyes filled with shock and resentment.


    The chains in their hands disintegrated, and the darkness returned to spread throughout the place, but the well became calmer than before.


    As for the High Priest, he remained standing in his spot, watching everything that had happened with an ambiguous expression, but his dark eyes gleamed faintly when he saw the strange appendage.


    After everything had calmed down, he walked forward and placed his hand on Sollivan¡¯s shoulder, who was sweating profusely, and ordered coldly, "Move forward."


    Although his mind was still chaotic and hadn¡¯t fully recovered from what had happened, Sollivan walked involuntarily and approached the pit, causing all the priests around him to heighten their vigilance and prepare for any emergency. But this time, nothing happened.


    "Kneel."


    Sollivan, who had felt the chill of death moments ago, didn¡¯t dare to disobey the priest¡¯s orders.


    Without hesitation, he knelt down while his eyes remained fixed on the dark well before him, filled with fear and awe.


    But at that moment, he noticed that the turbulent darkness began to calm down slightly, and then small red eyes appeared, looking at him for a moment before disappearing.


    Everything happened so quickly that he couldn¡¯t clearly see the mysterious figure, but his expression stiffened.


    He turned his head and looked at everyone around him, noticing that their expressions hadn¡¯t changed. He wondered with furrowed brows that didn¡¯t hide his fear.


    ''Did they not see that? Or is it something normal in this crazy pit? What the hell is this place, and what do they plan to do with me here?''


    His questions and confusion multiplied, making his heart race, but suddenly he regained his composure and focused all his attention on the priest, who suddenly placed his hand on his head.


    The priest¡¯s long fingers touched his forehead, making him feel disgusted, but his expression didn¡¯t change, and he kept staring blankly at the pit before him.


    He began to hear a mysterious muttering coming from behind him, but it also seemed distant at the same time.


    He felt a slight dizziness that made him forget his terror, and it seemed as if he had fallen into a long illusion. But that dark feeling lasted only a moment before disappearing. At that moment, he saw the faint black mist floating above the pit moving strangely and harmonizing with the obscure words.


    The mist gathered and began to take shape, transforming into a long, thin chain. Before he could realize what it was, the chain flew toward him at high speed.


    His eyes widened, and his fear returned. He wanted to avoid the chain, but he was helpless to move, and all he could do was watch helplessly. The chain hit his forehead, but he felt no pain.This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it


    Instead, his mental state began to change suddenly. His fear and the feeling of helplessness he had felt disappeared, and he no longer thought about anything.


    All that remained was a haze and a deep desire to sleep. Yet, he still had a vague feeling of something cold wandering through his body unchecked.


    Time passed extremely slowly, and after what felt like an eternity, he regained his clarity and mental stability. At that moment, his eyes widened, and he turned his head in confusion.


    His senses returned to full strength, and he realized that the mysterious muttering coming from the priest¡¯s mouth had stopped.


    But he didn¡¯t feel relieved; on the contrary, his mood became disturbed. He slowly lowered his head and looked at his chest. He didn¡¯t know why, but he felt as if an invisible hand was gripping his heart, capable of crushing it at any moment.


    ''Is this an illusion? Or is this the Well¡¯s seal their leader spoke of?''


    All he could think of was more questions. He raised his head and looked at the dark abyss, letting out a long sigh.


    ''More questions. Ever since I set foot in this world, dozens of questions have piled up in my mind, and it doesn¡¯t seem like I¡¯ll get any answers soon. An uncertain fate and lost thoughts. Things don¡¯t seem to be getting any better.''


    While lost in his sarcasm, he saw the darkness of the well ripple ominously again before the small red eyes he had observed earlier appeared.


    His body shivered involuntarily as he remembered the black appendage from before.


    He moved slowly, and this time he found himself able to move. He turned toward the priest standing behind him and noticed that he was breathing heavily. "Does the seal exhaust him?"


    When this question crossed his mind, he saw the priest, who was breathing heavily, suddenly raise his head and look at him with astonished eyes before shouting in a tone filled with anger and fear.


    "Stop the shadow!" The priest moved quickly and pushed Sollivan, who was lost in his daze, aside, causing him to fall to the ground and skid several steps, scraping the black soil beneath him. His expression twisted, and he groaned in pain, but he didn¡¯t let his guard down.


    He looked at the spot where he had been standing and saw the High Priest and the other priests surrounding something black¡ªor rather, a dark humanoid figure with red eyes moving frantically in all directions, dodging the priests¡¯ attacks. But despite its speed, the shadow wasn¡¯t strong enough.


    One of the chains sent by the priests pierced its chest, and the monster¡¯s chest deformed and exploded, turning into a vague mist accompanied by a loud, annoying scream.


    "Damn it, more trouble!" Sollivan cursed loudly while covering his ears as tightly as he could.


    But his eyes didn¡¯t leave the misty figure, which continued to flee despite its injury. At that moment, the atmosphere around them cooled, and the cold breeze coming from the well stopped.


    All the priests turned at the same time and looked at the well, which had become strangely still, with grim expressions.


    Sollivan didn¡¯t understand what was happening, but the priests¡¯ expressions made his heart race.


    "Damn it!" One of the priests wanted to curse, but the words got stuck in his throat when the sticky substance in the well rippled violently, and a massive, grotesque head emerged from it, so horrifying that the sight alone was enough to induce nausea.


    The monster had a lizard-like head, but it had ten eyes scattered irregularly across its face, along with dozens of short, sharp horns protruding from below its mouth. The well wasn¡¯t very wide, but it was enough for something this huge to pass through.


    "What¡¯s happening to the well?!"


    "Is there something wrong with the concealment seal?"


    All the priests muttered in hoarse voices, lacking the composure they had earlier. But their confusion and astonishment lasted only a moment before they heard the High Priest¡¯s stern orders, snapping them out of their shock.


    "Seal the entrance and close the gate! No one or anything is allowed to leave this place."


    His hands didn¡¯t stop moving as he spoke, and as soon as he finished his orders, a small red square appeared in his hand. The shape expanded rapidly and turned into a massive barrier protecting the gate leading to the surface.


    At the same time, more than half of the priests moved together and surrounded the well, beginning to form some mysterious seals with their hands, their expressions stern.


    Amid this monstrous chaos, Sollivan remained sprawled on the ground like a dead rat, and the only thing moving in his stiff body was his cold, calculating eyes.


    He had been trapped with the others inside the large hall, and although he was somewhat far from the well, the chilling aura of death emanating from it made him unable to maintain his composure. But despite everything that had happened, he didn¡¯t allow fear to take over and decided to stay in his spot until everything was over.


    Roar!


    The massive head roared loudly and began to slowly emerge from the dark well, but the priests didn¡¯t stand idly by. They formed dozens of intertwined chains that fell over its head and pushed it down with tremendous force. Sparks flew everywhere the chains collided with the monster¡¯s metallic, armor-like skin.


    But even though the monster was pushed down slightly, the priests couldn¡¯t force it further.


    The monster opened its mouth filled with sharp teeth and began to bite through the chains effortlessly, causing the priests to stagger and fall back. The weakest among them coughed up blood, while the stronger ones quickly regained their footing and formed more chains.


    Even after the monster had severed hundreds of chains, it couldn¡¯t free itself or bring out more of its limbs, as more chains continued to surround its head. Even if only faintly, the monster was being pushed back into the well.


    On the nearer side, some priests continued to surround the black shadow that was trying to escape. Although their numbers were small compared to the others, they didn¡¯t face much difficulty due to the shadow¡¯s weakness.


    Every attack they made caused the shadow to disperse, and although its body reformed, it became smaller and smaller, leaving it in a dead end and screaming in a desperate, repulsive voice.


    ¡­


    A stern expression appeared on Priest Otieno¡¯s face as he worked quickly to stabilize the barrier he had created, but his focus remained on the monster whose head had emerged from the well. He felt a silent regret as he thought, ''I shouldn¡¯t have provoked this hybrid¡¯s blood. I didn¡¯t expect the reaction to be this strong¡­ This isn¡¯t normal, even for a soul lineage.''


    Otieno furrowed his brows.


    ''No matter how I think about it, there¡¯s something strange about this person¡­ His lineage seems unstable, as if it was just born. Is this because he¡¯s a hybrid? Or is there another reason I¡¯m not yet aware of?''


    These thoughts weren¡¯t random; it was known that lineages were unstable at birth, especially primal bloodlines. Even the slightest influence could lead to catastrophic results, ranging from the weakening and erosion of infants¡¯ bodies to their deaths.


    For this reason, the births of children with distinctive bloodlines were conducted with extreme caution, attended only by trusted parents and grandparents and supervised by a "Keeper of Secrets."


    This keeper possessed special abilities used to temporarily seal the newborn¡¯s lineage until it stabilized completely.


    After birth, the child and mother were isolated for a full month before the purity of the lineage was declared, a procedure applied to all lineages, regardless of the strength of their blood.


    As for Otieno, Sollivan¡¯s blood seemed to him like that of a newborn, as if only two days had passed since he came into the world. This was extremely puzzling, and he couldn¡¯t find a logical explanation for it.


    ''Even if he belongs to the soul lineage, how was he able to summon this monster from the abyss?''


    Suddenly, his expression froze, and astonishment replaced his confusion. His eyes widened as he glanced at Sollivan lying on the ground.


    ''He¡¯s a hybrid¡­ half-human¡­ and his lineage traces back to lands far from the vast plains.


    They can¡¯t easily reach this place, and if they do, they wouldn¡¯t move freely for fear of drawing the attention of other lineages. Doesn¡¯t this make him an irreplaceable opportunity? Despite the impurity of his blood, he isn¡¯t much different from pure bloodlines.''


    His confusion gradually faded, replaced by a faint smile as he muttered vaguely, "Isn¡¯t this the best?"


    But his thoughts were soon interrupted as he finished stabilizing the barrier. After taking a deep breath, he gathered his momentum and rushed toward the well, ignoring the shadow, which wasn¡¯t as much of a threat as the other monster.


    He stood before the massive head with dark eyes, but unlike the other priests, he felt no fear and didn¡¯t form any seals with his hands. He remained in place while his robes fluttered in the cold wind.


    "Secure this monster!"


    His words carried the authority of a leader, and as soon as they reached the priests¡¯ ears, they unleashed all the energy they had been conserving, doubling their momentum.


    More chains appeared and surrounded the monster from all directions, even binding its mouth, which had been trying to bite through the chains, rendering it unable to move. It could only look around with its sharp yellow eyes, filled with indescribable malice.


    Otieno¡¯s expression didn¡¯t change, but he nodded slightly, showing his satisfaction.


    He didn¡¯t have much time before the priests reached the limits of their energy, so he didn¡¯t hesitate. He unleashed all his power and assumed a combat stance, completely contrasting his pale, frail appearance, but this contrast lasted only seconds before disappearing.


    His thin body began to swell, and his muscles bulged, pulsating with overwhelming strength and dominance.


    His loose robes became tight, accentuating his powerful body like a carved statue. He looked at the monster with sharp eyes, making him seem like a completely different person. In moments, he had transformed into a fierce warrior, with no trace of the priestly presence he had had before.


    But he didn¡¯t stop there. He clenched his fist and focused all his energy into it. The monster they were facing wasn¡¯t weak enough to be taken lightly, so he decided to end things with a single blow before the situation worsened.


    The air around his fist began to ripple, as if trying to escape his overwhelming force. Then, after a few seconds of preparation, the priest leaped high above the well, leaving a small crater in the ground beneath his feet. He soared through the air, his eyes fixed on the monster¡¯s head, which stared back at him with fear.


    Boom!


    Without hesitation, he delivered his deadly strike directly to the deformed head. His fist collided with the monster¡¯s body, sending sparks flying in all directions.


    But this time, the tough skin dented under the immense pressure and shattered. The chains binding the monster broke, and it was freed, but it didn¡¯t attempt to struggle. All it did was let out a desperate roar as its teeth flew out and its eyes deformed, half of them turning into a sticky, bloody paste.


    L


    The black liquid in the well rippled, and a massive shockwave spread, forcing the priests to retreat several steps. Even Sollivan, lying on the ground, couldn¡¯t prevent his body from rolling away.


    As for the shadow, it was flung backward with tremendous force, crashing into the red barrier separating them from the door.


    Its body deformed and turned into black smoke that scattered in all directions, but it quickly reformed. It stared around with its dark eyes until its gaze fell on Sollivan, lying motionless.


    In a fleeting moment, the shadow stretched across the ground like a creeping mass and rushed toward him at insane speed, taking advantage of the priests¡¯ distraction.


    On the other side, Otieno forcefully pushed the monster back into the well, then turned smoothly and landed on his feet. Without hesitation, he ordered sternly, "Renew the concealment seal!"


    The priests moved immediately, surrounding the well despite their physical exhaustion. They steadied themselves and channeled their remaining energy into forming mysterious seals and obscure symbols.


    "Stop!"


    A strange cry echoed from behind them. Otieno turned quickly and looked at his companions to find them chasing the shadow, which had finally reached Sollivan and pounced on him!


    The priest¡¯s expression twisted, but he couldn¡¯t move due to the seal he was forming. All he could do was shout in despair.


    "You can¡¯t!¡±

 Chapter 10: The Supreme Leaders Intervention

    [The Hall of Leadership]


    The Supreme Leader sat silently on his throne, his eyes closed and his expression calm and serene, though his brows were furrowed in a mysterious manner. His mind was working rapidly, analyzing the dilemma they faced. He reviewed every possible scenario, but his frown did not ease.


    Although the knowledge of Sollivan''s true nature had brought him some relief, he was not foolish enough to let his guard down completely because of it.


    After a short while, he finally opened his eyes and looked at the young noble standing respectfully before him.


    "Blear, are you sure of what you said? Are you confident that your followers didn¡¯t overlook anything?"


    Blear raised his head and looked into his father¡¯s eyes with confidence, then replied politely, "I¡¯m certain, Father. We searched the area multiple times, and the result was the same each time.


    There were no traces other than those of the hybrid boy. Even after tracking them, we lost his trail near a plain ruled by a powerful beast."


    Blear¡¯s brows furrowed, and he paused for a moment before adding in a doubtful tone, "Your concerns are valid, Father. Upon reconsidering, the traces left by the hybrid were strange and fragmented, as if he had suddenly appeared in that location."


    The warriors¡¯ ability to track traces was the second thing they prided themselves on, after their strength. But the traces left by Sollivan had left them deeply puzzled. They had been unable to follow them once they disappeared near the plain of the powerful beast.


    Even after hours of searching, they had found nothing despite combing the entire area. Concealing one¡¯s traces wasn¡¯t impossible, but Sollivan was weak and helpless, making it impossible for him to possess such an ability.


    Even the possibility of a powerful individual aiding him seemed unlikely, especially given the circumstances in which they had found him.


    Blear¡¯s frown deepened, and at the same time, a strong curiosity arose within him, making him eager to uncover the truth about the hybrid he had brought back. To him, as much as Sollivan posed a potential threat, he was also an opportunity to understand the truth about primal blood and the powerful clans beyond the vast plains.


    Blear was a strong young man of high status, but that was limited to his tribe alone. If he ventured far enough from his homeland, he would become just another ordinary person with common blood, like the majority of the world¡¯s population.


    However, he had no desire to remain confined to his homeland forever. His ambitions were great, and he aspired to reach heights beyond his father and ancestors. Why not leave the plains for better, more prosperous lands?


    The Supreme Leader looked at him and noticed the subtle changes in his expression and aura. Immediately, he understood his thoughts.


    He shook his head and smiled faintly. Seeing his ambitious and conflicted son reminded him of his own youth. He, too, had entertained such wild thoughts and fantasies when he was young.


    For this reason, he decided to remain silent and offer no advice or guidance, leaving time and experience to refine his son¡¯s ambitions and character. Observing his son¡¯s mental state made him forget his original purpose. After a moment of silence, he let out a long sigh, expelling the gloom that had settled in his chest.


    His long sigh snapped his son out of his daze, and Blear looked at him. At that moment, he found his father gazing sharply at a specific corner of the tent, his eyes as piercing as a hawk¡¯s, as if they could see through a person¡¯s depths and penetrate thick walls.


    Blear slowly turned his head and looked in the direction his father was staring, but all he saw was a wooden wall covered with some embroidered leather.


    He furrowed his brows and looked back at his father, only to find him still gazing in the same direction, as if he could see beyond the wall and into the distant, dark horizon. Then, he heard him say with a hint of sarcasm, "There¡¯s no need to overthink it. Everything will be revealed in time."


    The Supreme Leader turned and looked at him with a gaze that carried some tenderness, without losing his regal dignity. Then he said in a gentle tone, "Go and rest. You¡¯ve traveled a long way. There¡¯s no need to dwell on this too much. I¡¯ll take care of everything. All you need to do is¡ª"


    His words suddenly stopped. His brows furrowed deeply, and a strange look appeared on his face. He quickly turned and looked in the direction of the stone tower, and his surprise turned into shock, followed by an extremely stern expression.


    The drastic changes in his expression did not escape his son¡¯s notice. With fear and hesitation, Blear asked, "What¡¯s wrong, Father?"


    His fear was not unfounded. The things that could make his father show such expressions were few and far between. If it wasn¡¯t an attack from an enemy force or a powerful beast, he couldn¡¯t fathom what kind of disaster they might be facing.


    The Supreme Leader froze for a moment, then his usual stern expression returned. He turned slowly and replied in a cold, dark tone, "A powerful presence has emerged in the isolation tower."


    These words struck Blear like a thunderbolt, making his head ring. His thoughts tangled, and strangely, a vague image of the human boy appeared in his mind, deepening his frown.


    He didn¡¯t understand why he thought of the human hybrid the moment he heard about the well. In a hesitant tone, he asked with a hint of fear, "The well... Does this have something to do with the hybrid we sent with the priest?"


    Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.


    The well was no trivial matter. If you asked all the tribes in the central plains about the most dangerous thing they could face, their answer would be unanimous: "The emergence of abyssal beasts from the wells."


    Yet, despite this, they were unwilling to give up the wealth that could be extracted from the wells. For this reason, the wells were strictly guarded and isolated in fortified towers and castles to prevent potential disasters.


    The Supreme Leader did not answer his question. All he did was stand from his throne with full dignity, spreading his majestic and overwhelming aura around him. Then he said in a tone as stern as a royal decree, "Follow me."


    ...


    Above the tribe¡¯s massive gate, a middle-aged man leaned on a thick beast hide and drank a strange brown liquid from a crudely made wooden bottle.


    The man had a large beard and unkempt hair, along with a massive scar that divided his face in two, reflecting the flames above the wall and highlighting his fierce and terrifying appearance. This was the same man Sollivan had seen earlier, the one who had opened the gate for them.


    The disfigured man raised his bottle again and took a sip of the strange drink with sunken, drunken eyes. But his drowsy eyes suddenly became clear.


    His hand froze in place, and his breath stopped, causing the liquid in the bottle to spill onto his face and cover his dirty beard. His brows furrowed, and without warning, he jumped from his spot and ran at an insane speed toward the leadership palace.


    ...


    In a small tent in the eastern region of the tribe, a burly man held a small, gentle-eyed child in his hands and played with him happily.


    Despite his massive build and stern features, the man¡¯s eyes were gentle and clear, like those of a peaceful man. He had a small mustache and a light beard, and although he wore elegant clothes, his rough appearance remained unchanged.


    "Wah!"


    The little boy smiled and played with his father¡¯s large hand happily, making the rough man¡¯s heart soften. But his relaxed body suddenly stiffened.


    His brows furrowed, and his gentle expression turned stern. He turned his head and looked in the direction of the leadership palace. Carefully, he placed the boy down in his cradle and covered him, ensuring he was warm and protected from the night¡¯s chill.


    He walked slowly out of his tent and closed the door. At that moment, all traces of gentleness disappeared, and he ran at an insane speed, reaching the leadership palace within seconds.


    As soon as he arrived, his eyes met those of the disheveled man who had also appeared in front of the palace¡¯s wide gate. The two men did not speak or greet each other. All they did was look at the man who had suddenly appeared from behind the gate.


    Both men stared at the Supreme Leader with stern faces, then, with utmost respect, they struck their chests with their fists and saluted him.


    "Supreme Warrior Kendrick greets the Supreme Leader," the disheveled man saluted first, then the burly man spoke: "Supreme Warrior Fredrick greets the Supreme Leader."


    The rank of Supreme Warrior was no small matter. In their tribe, the "Red Horns," the Supreme Warrior held the highest status after the Supreme Leader and the High Priest. For this reason, there were only four Supreme Warriors, the elite of the elite and the undisputed strongest under the Supreme Leader.


    The Supreme Leader did not respond to their greetings and ordered sternly, "Warrior Kendrick, summon the Death Warriors and surround the isolation tower. There¡¯s a breach."


    "As for you, Fredrick, you will accompany me inside the tower."


    The two warriors were surprised and looked at each other in shock. They had sensed the Supreme Leader¡¯s aura, which he only released in emergencies.


    But they had not expected a breach or invasion from the well. Despite being among the strongest in the tribe, they were still far inferior to the Supreme Leader.


    This explained why they hadn¡¯t sensed the aura of the beast that had emerged. Their respectful auras disappeared, replaced by raw power. Warrior Kendrick looked at the Supreme Leader and struck his chest like a drum before rushing off.


    As for Fredrick, all he did was stand in place and wait for the Supreme Leader to move. But his usual calm and peaceful aura had completely vanished, leaving only an urgent desire to go to the well and eradicate the problem.


    Blear silently observed everything, secretly admiring his father¡¯s dominance. A look of longing appeared in his eyes, and his desire to become stronger grew.


    To him, the position of Supreme Leader was not guaranteed. Their tribe recognized only strength.


    If he did not meet expectations and reach a high level, he would be sidelined by his followers, who would see him as unworthy. In their culture, status meant little, and people would not pledge loyalty to anyone weaker than themselves.


    Unlike Sollivan¡¯s previous world, where strength played a fundamental role, people still held some respect for those of high status, even if they were weaker.


    After a brief moment of hesitation, Blear steeled himself and stepped forward, then struck his chest and said firmly, "Supreme Leader, let me accompany you."


    The Supreme Leader turned his head and looked at him with a less stern expression, and without hesitation, he replied, "Very well."


    Although what was happening inside the well was still unknown, he was confident in his ability to handle the situation. Despite the danger, this disaster would be a good opportunity for his son to broaden his horizons and deepen his knowledge of the well and the abyssal beasts.


    Blear smiled happily and wanted to strike his chest in gratitude, but his father¡¯s rough hand gripped his shoulder and stopped him.


    Before he could realize what was happening, his father took a step forward, covering hundreds of steps in an instant, as if flying at incredible speed. Blear¡¯s hair and clothes fluttered in the wind, and his eyes widened to take in the exhilarating feeling of this long leap.


    As soon as the wind subsided and the world around him regained clarity, he found himself standing before a massive, fortified tower. He looked around warily and in awe, then glanced at the four guards in front of the tower¡¯s gate.


    He felt a faint chill coming from behind him. He turned slowly and saw Supreme Warrior Fredrick, who had just arrived. He had been slower than the Supreme Leader, so he had lagged behind for a moment.


    As for the well guards, upon seeing a group of unknown figures appear out of nowhere, they took a step back and prepared for combat. But as soon as they recognized the Supreme Leader, their eyes widened, their fighting intent vanished, and was replaced by great respect. At the same time, they gently touched their chests and bowed their heads slightly, saluting him.


    "Your Excellency, the Supreme Leader."


    "Open the gate." Although the Supreme Leader ordered them sternly, he couldn¡¯t hide the slight frown that appeared on his face.


    ''What¡¯s going on? The tower should be in chaos due to what¡¯s happening in the well. Weren¡¯t they informed?''


    His brows furrowed. ''Perhaps the priests in the well have isolated the lower hall from the rest of the tower.''


    The gate opened, revealing the long, torch-lit corridor. Without hesitation, the Supreme Leader and his companions walked inside. Their steps were incredibly fast, and they navigated the winding passages smoothly, having memorized the route by heart. After a few seconds, they reached the first white gate.


    Clang!


    The Supreme Leader took the keys from his pocket and quickly opened the gate, which closed behind them as soon as they entered.


    Blear silently followed his father¡¯s movements, observing everything without uttering a word. The situation was critical, and he didn¡¯t want to distract his father from the task at hand.


    They opened the subsequent gates with the same speed, and at the third gate, a dark aura saturated with a terrifying chill spread through the area, making him shiver involuntarily. He glanced at his father and Fredrick, but he noticed no change in their expressions, as if they were unaffected by this mysterious cold. Without hesitation, they continued descending the stairs.


    When they reached the lower hall, they were met with a massive red barrier blocking their view of what was happening on the other side, but it couldn¡¯t hide the aura of death emanating from behind it. The Supreme Leader frowned and muttered, "As I expected."


    Then he put the keys in his pocket, gathered his energy in his fist, and with eerie calmness, punched the barrier.


    Crack!


    It seemed like an ordinary strike, but it was imbued with immense force, causing Blear and Fredrick to step back. The first layer of the barrier shattered, and a network of cracks spread rapidly across its surface.


    There was no need for a second punch, as the wall began to crumble, turning into rubble within moments.


    As soon as it collapsed, an angry scream echoed through the hall.


    "You can¡¯t!"


    The Supreme Leader and his companions quickly scanned the hall, finding the priests busy completing the well¡¯s seal. But what truly caught their attention was the mysterious shadow pouncing on Sollivan, who was trying to crawl away, albeit very slowly.


    The Supreme Leader extended his hand and muttered angrily, "Damn it... It¡¯s trying to form a contract with him!"


    In an instant, he disappeared from his spot and reappeared beside Sollivan, but his intervention came too late.


    The shadow had completely attached itself to Sollivan¡¯s body, spreading over him like a black liquid crawling slowly across his skin, as if it were living paint.


    Blear¡¯s expression changed, and conflicting emotions appeared on his face. But what dominated him most was bitterness... and envy.


    Yes, he felt jealous of Sollivan, who had obtained this rare, once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. He silently lamented not being born with strong blood like the wretched hybrid before him. He wasn¡¯t sure of his feelings and didn¡¯t know how to react to the situation, so he simply sighed and observed from afar.


    "Ah..."


    Sollivan¡¯s eyes turned completely black, and darkness spread across his body, completely obscuring his features. He screamed in suppressed pain, trying in vain to tear off the black layer covering his skin, but all he managed to do was wound himself, causing drops of blood to seep out.


    As for the Supreme Leader and the others in the hall, they silently observed, not daring to intervene. They knew well that any interruption to this process could lead to catastrophic consequences for both parties, and perhaps for the entire hall.

 Chapter 11: The Contract

    "Damn it!"


    "Damn it!"


    Sollivan, who was crawling backward helplessly, stared at the shadowy humanoid figure. A faint black mist was emanating from the shadow''s fleshy body, forming a dark cloud around it that made its appearance even more mysterious. As Sollivan was drenched in sweat, his eyes met the cold, red eyes that were moving across the shadow''s body.


    Those eyes were just glowing points like jewels, without any whites around them. But what was most terrifying was how they moved; they slid across the shadow''s black skin, shifting from its featureless face to its head, neck, and other parts of its body, giving it a comprehensive view of its surroundings.


    Sollivan felt a sense of foreboding. His heart pounded violently, and he wanted to stand up and run, but he was unable to move. Time seemed to freeze before his eyes, and he saw the shadow slowly moving toward him.


    Out of sheer fear, he involuntarily closed his eyes. At that moment, he felt an intense cold spreading rapidly through his body, starting from his hands. He forced himself to open his eyes and saw a layer of dark, sticky blackness covering his skin and clothes, forming an incomplete cocoon that was crawling to cover the rest of his body. His soul trembled with fear, and his body convulsed.


    "Get away!"


    To his surprise, he found that he could move his limbs relatively smoothly despite the black layer covering him. With all his might, he slowly moved his uninjured hand, as if underwater, and grabbed the black layer, trying to pull it away. But it was like sticky rubber, stretching intensely but not breaking, remaining firmly attached to his skin.


    "Damn it!"


    He cursed loudly and reduced the force of his pull. But at that moment, the black layer melted and flowed through his fingers like water, then reattached itself to his skin. His eyes widened, and he snorted air through his nose like an enraged bull, frantically pulling at the sticky substance and scratching it with his nails. But his struggle was futile, and all he managed to do was hurt himself. His blue blood flowed profusely, covering his body and the black cocoon over him, which emitted more black smoke.


    Thump!


    Suddenly, a dark feeling overwhelmed him, and the cocoon around his body expanded rapidly. He felt his blood leaving his body quickly, making his consciousness blur for a moment. But he didn¡¯t give up and continued to pull at the black layer despite the intense resistance.


    "Ah..."


    After a brief struggle, he managed to remove part of the black layer, revealing a portion of his blood-covered skin. But he was surprised to see his blood being pulled by an invisible force, greedily consumed by the black substance. Before he could realize what was happening, the blackness expanded again and covered the exposed part of his skin.


    His thoughts dimmed, and a look of despair appeared in his eyes. The seconds passed slowly, and within moments, the black cocoon covered eighty percent of his body, leaving only his head and part of his back. His hands froze, and he could no longer move them as smoothly as before. He slowly turned his head and examined his condition with a desperate look, then let out a long, melancholic sigh. He no longer struggled or thought, and all he did was lie there with an empty gaze, letting the black cocoon cover him.


    He regained his composure, and his thoughts became clearer. He accepted his fate and no longer wished to engage in futile struggle. As a final, honest look from a dying man, he turned his head and looked at the blurry figures around him, noticing the expressions of the few people nearby. Then he muttered in an emotionless voice.


    "What a strange look they¡¯re giving me."


    After voicing his thoughts, his brows furrowed again. ''Their gaze is very strange, as if they¡¯re not seeing someone being devoured by a monster. Their gaze is more like...?!'' He stopped his thoughts, slowly raised his head, and quickly scanned his body.


    At the same time, he tried to move his limbs, and unexpectedly, they moved smoothly. Even his hands, which had been restrained earlier, moved naturally. His eyes widened, but he didn¡¯t overreact and lay back down calmly, muttering, "I¡¯m fine."


    Due to his previous panic and desperate struggle, he hadn¡¯t thought about his situation properly. Now, having regained his composure and clarity of mind, he realized that the shadow around his body hadn¡¯t harmed him. All he felt was a vague sense of stickiness and a dense tickling sensation, as if thousands of insects were crawling over his body without biting him.


    After understanding his situation correctly, he was no longer in a hurry or afraid.


    He took a deep breath, turned his head again to look at the blurry figures around him, ''None of them moved to save me. Either they¡¯ve lost hope, or my situation isn¡¯t as dire as I thought.'' Then he looked at the blackness around him and asked in a mysterious tone.


    "What are you? I heard them call you a shadow, but you¡¯re too gentle to be evil. What¡¯s your name?" He stared at the shadow with curiosity, but he received no response. The shadow continued to silently and greedily consume his blood. At that moment, a strange idea occurred to him, and he remembered some texts he had read before.If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    "Only blood seals the pact, and only blood opens the gate."


    The same sentence he had read in the black book suddenly came to mind. He didn¡¯t understand why, but he felt a vague sense and an obscure idea about his situation. He focused his mind with all his strength, organizing his thoughts in search of an answer.


    Time passed slowly, but in reality, it was only a minute. During that time, the shadow continued to absorb his blood, and the more it drank, the more solid and cohesive its body became.


    Within this minute, the shadow expanded to cover his entire body except for his head. But, contrary to expectations, Sollivan wasn¡¯t disturbed or reacting violently. He remained lying there with a lost gaze. Suddenly, he smiled faintly and let out a mysterious hum, like a sarcastic laugh filled with strange happiness. He looked at the stone ceiling above him and muttered more clearly, "I¡¯m really an idiot."


    He reviewed his memories and recalled everything he had read, and after a short period of searching, he understood his situation. All the remaining tension in his body disappeared, and he relaxed indifferently. He raised his hands, covered in the black layer, and moved his sticky black fingers naturally. Then, calmly, he extended his fingers and forcefully inserted them into his wounds, reopening them and causing blood to flow profusely. Despite the pain, his gaze remained steady, and his faint smile didn¡¯t disappear.


    Gulp!


    The blood flowed and touched the black shadow, which drank it greedily without stopping. Without any sign of stopping, the shadow began to expand rapidly, and within a few seconds, it completely covered Sollivan¡¯s body, making him look like a black mass with a mysterious humanoid shape.


    The seconds passed quietly, turning into long minutes. But the black cocoon didn¡¯t move, remaining stationary like a lifeless object.


    ...


    Near the black cocoon, the Supreme Leader and the others stood watching silently. No one spoke or moved from their spot, not out of fear of disturbing Sollivan, but because they felt no need to. The well had calmed, and the priests had completed its seal. As for the High Priest, he walked to stand beside the Supreme Leader. But, unlike the others who watched with curiosity, his face showed a dark look and deep resentment. He hated the shadow intensely and wished to tear it apart and turn it to ash, but he didn¡¯t dare do so in front of the others.


    While the High Priest was burning with anger, Blear walked up to him and greeted him politely, "Greetings, High Priest."


    Otieno composed himself and showed a gentle smile, "No need for your respectful greeting, young leader."


    Contrary to his usual politeness, Blear didn¡¯t pay much attention to the priest¡¯s response, and his gaze remained fixed on the black cocoon. He asked with intense curiosity.


    "What happened, High Priest?" His question was like a bell that alerted everyone. The Supreme Leader and Fredrick turned to him with furrowed brows that didn¡¯t hide their anger.


    The priest pretended not to see the displeasure on their faces and answered innocently.


    "I don¡¯t know, Your Excellency. As soon as we arrived in the hall, his blood leaked unexpectedly, causing the well to react, and the abyssal beasts began to emerge. Although we contained the Thorny Salamander that tried to escape, we neglected to defend against the shadow, which took the opportunity and attacked the hybrid."


    Despite his attempt to shift the blame to Sollivan, the Supreme Leader and Fredrick¡¯s anger didn¡¯t subside. They stared at him for a moment before turning their gaze back to Sollivan.


    Suddenly, the black cocoon surrounded by black mist moved. It pulsed strangely, and it seemed as if a dark blue light spread through it, starting from the chest area.


    Thump!


    Thump!


    The Supreme Leader sighed and shook his head helplessly, saying in a mysterious voice that reached everyone¡¯s ears. "So this is the power of primal blood." He couldn¡¯t hide the slight tone of shock and respect in his voice.


    Then he continued without hiding his amazement. "This is the first time I¡¯ve seen someone form a contract with an abyssal beast without fulfilling any of the required conditions. The soul lineage is terrifying, as the rumors say." His voice softened, and his gaze became more mysterious, as if he were deep in thought.


    At that moment, Blear stood beside him and asked curiously, "What is this beast he contracted with, Father?" His question didn¡¯t contain any tone of reverence for the Supreme Leader, and it seemed like just a son asking his father.


    The Supreme Leader glanced at him and answered, "It¡¯s a shadow. Although it¡¯s not a strong beast and is of the middle tier, it¡¯s very useful due to its supportive role and extreme rarity."


    Blear nodded in understanding. "I see."


    His gaze remained fixed on the strangely pulsating cocoon. Then he heard his father say again. "I read in an ancient record that someone who possesses a shadow as a contracted beast is like someone with a second life."


    Crack!


    He turned his head and was about to say something, but he suddenly heard a loud cracking sound that made him quickly turn and look at the cocoon.


    The black cocoon began to crack strangely, emitting a loud cracking sound. Then it started to crumble, falling to the ground and over the human body lying like a corpse.


    There was no trace of the humanoid shadow left, and all that remained was Sollivan, most of his clothes eroded, leaving only some tattered rags covering parts of his body. His chest rose and fell, and his wounds stopped bleeding, as if they had received some kind of basic treatment.


    The Supreme Leader looked at him for a moment, then turned and said to Blear.


    "He¡¯s lost a lot of blood and is unconscious. Take him to one of the stone rooms to rest."


    "Yes, Supreme Leader." Blear gently touched his chest this time and walked slowly to stand beside Sollivan, who was lying on the ground. He quickly scanned his body, his lips twisting with complex emotions.


    Then he reached out and grabbed Sollivan by the shoulder. But at that moment, Sollivan, who had been unconscious, opened his eyes in anger, and with the remaining strength he had, he delivered a powerful punch to Blear, who was caught off guard and didn¡¯t react properly.


    Bang!


    "Ughhhh!"


    A muffled groan spread, making everyone in the hall quickly turn to look at them. Their expressions twisted, and their minds went blank. But the muffled groan didn¡¯t stop.


    Blear bent forward, holding his groin with a distorted face while resisting the urge to scream. His eyes turned white, and his pupils disappeared upward, making him look like a ghost. His twisted lips curled as if he had swallowed a sour lemon. He touched his groin with extreme fear, and after confirming they were intact, some color returned to his face, and his pain lessened.


    The damage he received wasn¡¯t enough to prevent his lineage from continuing, but it made him suffer greatly and experience the feeling of childbirth.


    As for Sollivan, who had almost destroyed Blear¡¯s future, he fell unconscious after his punch and didn¡¯t move again, like a lifeless corpse. No one in the room knew if he had truly lost consciousness or if he was pretending to avoid the consequences of his actions.


    ...


    Amid the strange chaos caused by Sollivan, the Supreme Leader remained indifferent. With pride, he walked toward the stairs. As soon as he placed his foot on the first step, he stopped and turned to look at everyone with sharp eyes full of power.


    His stern gaze made everyone present regain their composure and stand firmly. Even Blear, who was looking at Sollivan with dagger-like sharpness, stood straight and set aside his anger.


    Then the Supreme Leader spoke, "Give him a nutritious meal when he wakes up, and ask the Keeper of Secrets to treat him." He paused for a moment and hesitantly added.


    "Give him proper training. Fredrick, guide him until he starts training."


    Everyone¡¯s eyes widened in shock, and even Blear forgot his pain and anger for a moment when he heard his father¡¯s words.


    The Supreme Leader¡¯s words weren¡¯t empty or random; they carried one unambiguous meaning¡ªhe was interested in the hybrid they had captured.


    ...


    The High Priest stood behind the Supreme Leader, staring at his back with sharp, knife-like gazes, as if silently stabbing him. He clenched his teeth, took a deep breath through his nose, and cursed inwardly.


    ''Damn that bastard, he¡¯s playing with me! He¡¯s trying to cut off all paths to this hybrid.''


    His frown suddenly eased, and his gaze quickly turned toward Sollivan, who was being carried by Blear.


    ''Just wait... I won¡¯t let this golden opportunity slip away. I didn¡¯t want to resort to this option, but you¡¯ve forced me to.''


    He reached under his robe and felt something hidden in a small inner pocket. At that moment, a mysterious look appeared on his face, while his physical tension gradually eased, and his angry feelings turned into pure mockery toward the Supreme Leader.


    The High Priest remained standing in place, his gaze outwardly calm and clear, but behind the cloth covering his mouth, he was bitterly sneering. His twisted smile reached a point where his overly delighted teeth were on the verge of shattering. Yet, he continued to silently curse the Supreme Leader, immersed in dark thoughts and boundless hatred.

 Chapter 12: Sensory Bond

    "Hmm..."


    Sollivan''s eyelids trembled slowly, then he opened his black eyes. But all he saw was complete darkness. He didn¡¯t move, remaining stretched out in place, turning his head slowly to look around. After a short while, his eyes began to adjust to the darkness, allowing him to vaguely make out the outlines of the room, thanks to a faint light seeping in from under the door and through the keyhole. He stretched his arms and body, then let out a long, relaxed yawn.


    Unlike someone who had endured dozens of problems, his face looked calm and lazy, as if he didn¡¯t care about everything that had happened. After licking his dry mouth with his tongue, he muttered in a sleepy tone.


    "Finally, some peace and quiet. These savages made me suffer for the past two days without any rest or food. Damn it, they¡¯re monsters in human form. I envy their strength." After expressing his frustration, he stretched out again and relaxed his stiff body due to the uncomfortable bed. Then he removed the rough blanket that was irritating his skin.


    After sitting up, he slowly felt his bedding and realized he was sleeping on a straw mattress. He furrowed his brows and felt some resentment.


    ''I¡¯m being treated like a slave.''


    He wanted to curse out loud, but he stopped, and a complex look appeared in his eyes.


    ''But things have taken a really strange turn.''


    Even though he had just woken up, he felt something vague around him. He had a faint idea about his strange feelings, so he decided not to think too much about it.


    He looked at a cold spot on the floor for a moment, then sighed.


    "No need to bother myself now. I¡¯ve finally gotten some peace, and I should make the best use of it." He fell silent and raised his head to look at the light seeping through the keyhole. "I should organize the information I¡¯ve gathered first."


    His thoughts wandered for a moment, then his gaze changed. After a short while. ''This is a different world ruled by the kornavar race, and humans here are considered vile and outcast. There must be a reason for that, but it¡¯s not important now. If my mind is working correctly, I¡¯m currently in a tribe living in these plains.


    And it¡¯s clear that this tribe¡¯s status and strength are very low compared to what they call the noble clans with primal blood. I don¡¯t understand what these clans are, but what bothers me the most is how I became a half-human hybrid. I¡¯m sure this is my body. My height, skin color, weight, and facial features are all consistent, except for the color of my eyes and those scales on my forehead.'' He shook his hand and touched his forehead, feeling the slightly rough texture.


    ''It¡¯s clear that the leader is wary of my actual status, so he won¡¯t take any harsh actions against me. If this is true, my life won¡¯t be in danger as long as he¡¯s around. But as for that priest...''


    His eyes narrowed, and he muttered suspiciously. "He¡¯s up to something. The look of malice is evident on his dark face. I don¡¯t know if the leader is overlooking his actions for some reason, but that priest hates the leader intensely, and he doesn¡¯t seem to be trying to hide it."


    He shook his head slowly. "Their personal relationships don¡¯t concern me. All that matters is staying alive." He raised his hand and clenched it tightly, smiling strangely.


    A faint laugh!


    He chuckled faintly when he remembered what he had done before passing out. Without hiding his smile, he muttered in a mysterious tone full of happiness.


    "You can appear."


    There was no one in the room, so his slightly raised voice echoed through the dark, cold walls.


    But the darkness in the room rippled strangely, and the air around him grew colder. From the spot he had been staring at earlier, a dark blackness emerged and began to rise, forming a humanoid figure with bright red eyes like jewels. Despite the darkness of the room, the red eyes seemed to glow faintly, illuminating the space. But that glow lasted only a moment before disappearing, along with the cold that had accompanied its appearance.


    The shadow stared at Sollivan, and Sollivan did the same. After a minute of silence, Sollivan asked in a voice full of curiosity, his face not hiding his strange happiness, "Who are you?"


    The shadow didn¡¯t move or respond, remaining standing in place like a statue. If it weren¡¯t for its dark body, which rippled faintly and mysteriously from time to time, Sollivan wouldn¡¯t have been able to distinguish its presence due to the room¡¯s darkness.


    Sigh!


    After waiting silently for a long time, Sollivan sighed and dismissed the idea of communicating with the shadow from his mind. He raised his hand and scratched his chin, thinking deeply. After a few seconds, he said skeptically.


    "Jump."


    Without any delay, and contrary to his expectations, the shadow jumped high and hit the stone ceiling of the room. But it didn¡¯t make any sound of impact. Strangely, its body deformed and scattered like dense fog. The lower part of the shadow fell to the ground, followed by the black cloud that quickly gathered, reforming its humanoid body again.


    Sollivan¡¯s eyes widened, as he became able to discern everything happening in front of him despite the darkness. He opened his mouth, then closed it and furrowed his astonished brows. After a brief moment of hesitation, he sneered.


    "You¡¯re good at receiving orders, but bad at executing them. You seem stupid to me, but that¡¯s not a problem." The shadow tilted its head slightly and stared into his eyes, as if understanding his sarcasm, which made Sollivan drop his mocking smile.This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    He raised his hand and shook it, saying in a strange tone, "Alright, stop looking at me with that weird gaze."


    His words were just sarcasm, but the shadow turned its crimson eyes and began looking in the other direction.


    Sollivan¡¯s waving hand stopped, and he was speechless for a moment. "You¡¯re really stupid." He chuckled faintly, ''As I expected, the contract we formed together was successful.''


    His thoughts stopped, and he furrowed his brows with slight displeasure.


    ''Everything seems normal with the contracted beast. So, what¡¯s this strange feeling that won¡¯t leave me?'' A vague idea crossed his mind, but he couldn¡¯t grasp it. It lingered in his head, unwilling to leave or reveal itself.


    He slowly closed his eyes and shook his head slightly, clearing all the chaos from his mind and ignoring his vague feeling. After clearing his mind and organizing his thoughts, he opened his eyes again and stared at the shadow, which hadn¡¯t moved from its spot. After a brief moment of hesitation, he ordered.


    "Go through the small gap under the door without making any noise." This time, his orders were clearer to avoid any annoying mistakes from the shadow. Still, he didn¡¯t feel at ease and continued to watch the shadow with wide eyes.


    The shadow moved silently, and with each step it took toward the door, it grew shorter, until it disappeared into the ground beneath it, blending in like a real shadow. When it reached the door, it was just a dark black shadow clinging to the ground, moving like a shallow pool of water a few millimeters high.


    Sigh!


    Sollivan exhaled the anticipation and anxiety he had held in his chest and eagerly watched the shadow clinging to the ground approach the door and slip under it into the outer corridor.


    But as soon as the shadow touched the floor of the door, sparks of light spread in the area, and the shadow was struck forcefully, causing its body to deform and turn into a black cloud with semi-human limbs, flying backward as smoke and sparks scattered from it.


    As for Sollivan, who was sitting, he didn¡¯t have time to react to the matter, because he suddenly felt intense pain spreading through his body, making him bend forward and hug himself in pain. He groaned silently and resisted the urge to scream.


    "Ah..."


    "A barrier?" He gritted his teeth and spat out these few words with intense anger and bloodshot eyes.


    The dark cloud writhed in place for a moment before gathering and reforming into the shadow¡¯s usual shape. But this time, its body was significantly smaller than before.


    "Huff..."


    Sollivan gasped in pain. After freezing in his position for a moment, the pain that had spread through his body subsided, and his usual calm returned. He adjusted his posture and wiped the cold sweat that had seeped from his forehead, then sighed.


    "I didn¡¯t expect to receive such a reaction from the shadow¡¯s damage. But the truly unexpected thing is the presence of a strong barrier around this room."


    He twisted his lips in regret, then looked at the shadow, which had returned to standing steadily in front of him like a motionless statue. His black eyes met the crimson eyes, which seemed to glow brighter and brighter, drawing his gaze like a black hole making everything around it disappear.


    Because of this, he continued to stare at them and ponder them absently. Before he realized it, his body entered a very strange state, even his breathing, which hadn¡¯t calmed down after the previous reaction, became extremely calm and relaxed.


    "What is this?" he asked in confusion and bewilderment. He furrowed his brows, regained his clarity, and became able to see his surroundings again, but they were tinged with a faint red. He was greatly surprised by this, but he didn¡¯t have time to react to the matter, because his thoughts froze when he saw the human boy sitting in front of him staring at him with empty, lifeless eyes, even though he was breathing.


    "Is that me?" He uttered a few words in disbelief, but he didn¡¯t hear any sound. He raised his hand and wanted to touch his frozen body, but he froze in place and stared at his dark hand, which swayed mysteriously. His eyes widened, and he took a step back in shock, shaking his head vigorously. Suddenly, his vision changed, the red disappeared from his eyes, and everything returned to normal. But he didn¡¯t stop retreating.


    Thud!


    "Ah..."


    His head hit the wall behind him hard, making him quickly raise his hands and hold his head, groaning.


    "Damn it." He shook his aching head and calmed himself. Without waiting for the pain to subside, he looked at the black shadow, which had retreated a few steps and stood silently, looking at him. "Was I just seeing through your eyes?"


    Even after asking his question loudly, the shadow didn¡¯t answer him, remaining standing silently in place as usual.


    He scratched his head slightly and lowered his hands, and then he realized and asked in even more astonishment, "My broken hand has healed."


    But he didn¡¯t think much about it due to the existence of advanced healing techniques and sophisticated medicines, so he focused again on the shadow and muttered in displeasure.


    "There¡¯s no use talking to you." But his displeasure suddenly disappeared, turning into a strange excitement. He smiled faintly, suppressing his desire to laugh, so his lips continued to tremble.


    After resisting the urge for a moment, he gave in to his strong desire to try it again. "Come, stand in front of me." He spoke eagerly, his eyes fixed on the shadow, which moved to stand in front of him.


    "Hmm..."


    He removed his smile and calmed his excitement. He shook his head slightly and cleared his mind.


    After regaining his composure, he closed his eyes and began to meditate silently. Unlike the first time, he didn¡¯t stare into the shadow¡¯s eyes but instead felt the faint link that connected them, recalling his previous sensation before transferring his vision to the shadow.


    As soon as he had woken up earlier, he had been aware of a vague link connecting him to the shadow, allowing him to sense its presence and, faintly, its emotions and thoughts, though they were vague and obscure. But the shadow seemed excited too.


    Time passed slowly. And although the link between them became clearer, he couldn¡¯t transfer his vision to the shadow again.


    "The first time was just a stroke of luck, perhaps caused by the reaction we had to the barrier." He opened his eyes and looked at the shadow with a gentle gaze. Although he couldn¡¯t transfer his vision during his meditation, he didn¡¯t come out empty-handed. And because of his enhanced awareness of the link between them, he understood the shadow better. "So, you contracted with me because you wanted my blood."


    "Why do you need it?" Even though his communication with the shadow was almost nonexistent, he was able to sense its desire. But the information he obtained was very limited. All he understood was that he had gained some privileges from his contract with the shadow.


    He didn¡¯t know exactly what kind of privileges they were, but he was sure he could exploit them when the opportunity and right conditions arose.


    And the shadow, in turn, gained some privileges; it fed on Sollivan¡¯s primal blood and silently grew its training and strength. Although it was severely restricted and couldn¡¯t freely take it without Sollivan¡¯s permission, who had complete control over their contract.


    ''But even so, the amount of information I can get is very limited. Even if its goal is clear, I¡¯m still unable to know its nature and the nature of the place it came from. And even if I ask it, it won¡¯t answer me, and I won¡¯t deduce anything from the vague feelings I sense from it.''


    "Forget it." Sollivan no longer thought about it, clearing his mind again, and assumed the lotus position, beginning to meditate once more. Then, very calmly, he ordered. "Let me see through your eyes."


    He felt the link between them without feeling any resistance from the other party. And unlike the first time, the second time was smoother due to the experience he had gained.


    After two minutes of meditation, he opened his eyes to be greeted by the familiar view of the room and the humanoid figure sitting. He slowly turned his head, looking at the clear details in the rocks in amazement and excitement.


    "Everything is so clear, even though I see everything tinged with a faint red. But I can still distinguish colors well, even though they look slightly different. But the truly amazing thing is my ability to see in the dark."


    "Hmm... What¡¯s this?" He suddenly felt something strange, so he turned toward the door of his room, but he found nothing.


    "Am I imagining it?" He didn¡¯t understand why, but he felt someone approaching.


    Step!


    Clang!


    The sound of strong footsteps accompanied by the clashing of keys echoed behind the stone door, reverberating in the empty corridor. Someone was coming! His eyes widened in surprise, ''Did I sense his presence before I heard his footsteps?''


    Despite his curiosity, he didn¡¯t waste time thinking, instead looking at his sitting body.


    Thanks to his ability to see in the dark, he saw the details of his body clearly, but he was surprised to notice that all his wounds had disappeared without a trace, not just the fracture in his hand.


    Step!


    He didn¡¯t have time to examine himself further, as the footsteps approached his room¡¯s door. Quickly, he returned to his body, and his vision returned to normal, then he whispered softly.


    "Hide."


    The black shadow disappeared into the ground, blending with the darkness of the room, making the place seem completely empty.


    Step!


    The newcomer reached the threshold of the door, but the sound of his footsteps was lighter than before.


    ''My hearing becomes sharper when I transfer my senses to the shadow!'' He thought excitedly, without showing any change in his expression.


    And he didn¡¯t have to wait long, as the light seeping under the door grew brighter, before suddenly disappearing from the keyhole, followed by the sound of the door opening.


    Creak!


    The door swung open, and bright light entered the dark room, making him narrow his eyes in discomfort. He raised his hand to block the light for a moment, but he didn¡¯t neglect to observe the person stepping inside.

 Chapter 13: Sensing Intentions

    A cloaked priest stood silently at the door, pulling the key stuck in the lock and pushing it aside, but he didn¡¯t enter and instead stepped back respectfully, placing his back against the wall like a loyal guard.


    Sollivan wasn¡¯t surprised by this behavior, and with complete calm, he stood up from his bed, brushed off some straw clinging to his torn and messy clothes, and stood respectfully as well.


    He didn¡¯t know who the important person was who had honored him with their presence, but he didn¡¯t want to violate the etiquette of the meeting or show disrespect.


    He didn¡¯t have to wait long, and after a few seconds, the light in the long corridor grew brighter. Then a tall young man entered, holding a torch in his hands that emitted a very bright white light, unlike the light of ordinary torches.


    "An enhanced torch?" Sollivan¡¯s gaze lingered on the torch for a second before shifting to the young leader, Blear, who stood silently at the door, staring at him with dagger-like sharp eyes, as if they wanted to cut him to pieces.


    Sollivan twisted his lips slightly and resisted the urge to laugh, but he didn¡¯t show any change in his expression and maintained a calm face. With complete politeness, he slightly bent his back, placed his left hand on his chest, and greeted Blear.


    "Greetings to the young leader."


    His words and tone were full of respect, and he even showed a vague look of longing that made Blear, who was standing angrily, furrow his brows in surprise at what he saw.


    But Blear¡¯s anger didn¡¯t subside, and in a tone devoid of respect and filled with disgust, he said.


    "Your sweet tongue and ridiculous flattery won¡¯t change your status as a filthy hybrid."


    Sollivan raised his head and lowered his hand calmly, replying in a very ordinary tone.


    "I know, and I¡¯m not seeking to change anything." His way of speaking wasn¡¯t rude, but it carried some indifference within it, and that¡¯s exactly what Sollivan felt.


    But Blear considered his tone a form of challenge. He furrowed his brows in anger and threw some clothes he was holding in his other hand forcefully toward Sollivan, then shouted.


    "Ungrateful wretch!"


    The clothes hit Sollivan¡¯s face, but they didn¡¯t cause him any harm or bother him to the point that he didn¡¯t even blink after the cotton shirt hit him.


    He showed a faint smile full of sarcasm, ''My fate is in your hands, you savages, so why would I flatter you? ¡­Then again, if I really think about it, that¡¯s exactly what I should be doing right now.''


    He kept his sarcasm in his mind and didn¡¯t dare to say it out loud for fear of making things worse.


    To him, showing some hostility was good to distinguish his position in the tribe, but overdoing it would make the tribe angry with him, and in that case, he might be beaten or even killed. After all, he was still just an outsider hybrid, and his life wasn¡¯t that important.


    When Blear saw his mocking smile, he took a step forward with a clenched fist, but suddenly relaxed his body and removed the angry look from his face. With complete sarcasm, he said.


    "You have some will despite your weakness, but we¡¯ll see how long you¡¯ll keep looking down on us." Blear threw the enhanced torch to the ground and said indifferently.


    "Change your clothes and follow me." After finishing his words, he turned and closed the stone room¡¯s door, leaving Sollivan standing in place with a lost expression.


    He lowered his head and looked at the clothes thrown at his feet, then sighed.


    ''Was I just misunderstood?'' He raised his hand and slapped his forehead.


    ''Is he an idiot? How can someone so foolish be a candidate for leadership? In our first meeting, he showed some intelligence and handled things calmly. Why is he acting so impulsively now?'' He didn¡¯t understand the reason for the sudden change and the superficial attitude Blear had developed.


    He lamented silently and scolded himself. ''I should have flattered him when I had the chance. Why did I have to act a little arrogantly?''


    "Huh."


    He bent down and picked up the clothes thrown on the ground, then walked forward and lifted the enhanced torch from the ground, looking at the pure white flames that didn¡¯t move randomly.


    ''When I first saw this tribe, I didn¡¯t think they had enough knowledge to make such torches.'' The enhanced torches were completely different from ordinary ones. First, their light was very bright and could be compared to small glowing stones.


    Also, the flames they produced didn¡¯t move or go out due to the wind and lasted for a very long time, making them very practical. But in return, the materials they were made from were expensive, and they required a professional chemist to make them, which made them a luxury item even in the Golden Lion Empire where he had lived before.


    After staring at the torch for a while, he placed it in a dedicated holder on the wall, then took off his worn and torn clothes. But he didn¡¯t put on his new clothes immediately and began examining his body for any changes in its structure. However, he found nothing except for some soft scales on the lower part of his chest and above his ribs.


    He had expected to find something like this, so he wasn¡¯t surprised. He picked up the clothes Blear had brought him, which consisted of a brown leather pants padded with cotton, making them soft on the inside and sturdy on the outside like solid armor.A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    In addition, there was a slightly long gray cotton shirt with thin, sturdy leather padding in some important areas like the chest, abdomen, and shoulders. Finally, there was a long linen robe that covered his back, shoulders, chest, and also his neck. His outfit was a bit strange and seemed mismatched, but at the same time, it had a kind of tribal aesthetic that fit the place.


    He looked at his new clothes and examined them carefully.


    ''The stitching is poor, but the quality of the materials is very high.'' The stitching threads were very thick and noticeable, leaving trails and lines on the clothes.


    After finishing changing, he arranged his hair a little and changed his facial expressions, hiding all his discomfort and showing a respectful expression. He raised his hand and rubbed his stomach.


    ''I hope they give me a decent meal, I¡¯m almost digesting myself from hunger.''


    After fully collecting his breath, he picked up the torch and headed toward the metal door that closed his room. The door wasn¡¯t locked, so he pulled it open to be greeted by the face of the guarding priest who hadn¡¯t left his spot. Without any regard for him, he turned to look at the long corridor where Blear stood with his hands clasped behind his back and his chest puffed up with pride. His eyes met Blear¡¯s hostile gaze, and in frustration, he lowered his head and walked forward, sighing.


    "Hmph." Blear snorted sarcastically.


    "Follow me." He led the way silently, and Sollivan followed him, his eyes constantly moving from place to place, sometimes stopping at a specific spot on the wall or floor where the shadow was hiding. After walking for several minutes through the long, dark, winding corridors filled with rooms and priests, they reached the exit gate.


    Blear extended his hand and took the enhanced torch from Sollivan¡¯s hand forcefully and disrespectfully, then handed it to one of the guarding priests by the door, ordering in a calm tone.


    "Open the gate."


    Sollivan watched everything silently, hiding his displeasure. But at the same time, he was wondering suspiciously about what was happening.


    ''At first, I thought this bastard was angry with me because I hit him, but it¡¯s clear there¡¯s another reason.


    Did I do something that upset him? Or are there things happening in the shadows because of me that he opposes? Is he venting his frustration on me?''


    The stone tower¡¯s gate opened, and the gentle daylight filled with warmth entered, making Sollivan stop his thoughts and look outside. After seeing Blear walking out, he followed him.


    As soon as he stepped outside, he was greeted by a flurry of sounds and smells full of activity. The streets and tents were filled with passersby and strange animals, along with the smells of barbecue and the dust clouds left by footsteps. He marveled for a moment at how prosperous the tribe was.


    Clang!


    The sound of the large metal gate closing made him involuntarily turn and look back. He quickly scanned the stone tower¡¯s walls with his eyes, then lowered his head to look at his shadow, which looked much darker compared to the other shadows.


    ''You must need darkness or shadows to hide in then. But is light your weakness?'' Because of the link between them, he felt the shadow¡¯s slight discomfort from the sunlight.


    "Move." A strong, rough hand slapped his shoulder forcefully, making him stumble in place and turn his head angrily to glare at Blear. But he quickly removed the look of displeasure and returned to his usual expression, walking forward without showing further resentment.


    Their pace was very fast, and within moments, they entered the main street crowded with passersby.


    Sollivan looked around and examined everything with curiosity.


    Everyone around him had red horns on their foreheads, but the length and color of the horns varied from person to person. Some had short horns with a muddy red color, while others had slightly longer horns with a pure red color. After carefully scanning his surroundings, he stole a quick glance at Blear walking in front of him and examined his horns to find them very long compared to the rest of the people, and their color was a pure red.


    ''Thinking about it, all the warriors I¡¯ve seen before, even the tribe¡¯s leader himself, had long horns with a pure color.


    It seems this is related to their strength or perhaps the purity of their blood. Although they¡¯re the same thing if their training method is like the beasts from my previous world, the purer their blood, the greater their future prospects.''


    All his thoughts were just conclusions that couldn¡¯t be confirmed, but based on the common sense he knew and the evidence he had seen, his conclusions were very realistic.


    ''Despite my intense curiosity about their race, I¡¯m currently not in a position to search for answers.''


    Gurgle!


    The sound of his stomach growling stopped his racing thoughts, and in resignation, he sighed audibly.


    ''The smell of grilled meat coming from everywhere reminded me of my hunger. I haven¡¯t eaten anything for three days.'' Frustrated, he turned his head and stopped looking at the passersby around him, directing his gaze to the herds of animals that were everywhere, abnormally so.


    Between every four tents, there was a large stable filled with strangely shaped cattle resembling small cows with thick fur.


    If someone saw them from a distance, they would think they were sheep or pigs, but as soon as they got closer, they would be amazed by their strange appearance. Cow heads and sheep¡¯s wool, along with a small horn in the middle of their foreheads, made their appearance even more bizarre.


    ''How I wish to taste one of these animals grilled over charcoal.''


    He licked his lips greedily, ignoring the strange looks the people around him gave him when they saw his hornless forehead.


    ...


    After walking for several minutes, he and Blear reached the leadership palace located in the center of the tribe. As usual, the place was filled with brave warriors who stood proudly in their places. Their strong, sharp eyes, like those of hawks, watched everything with pride and a strange eagerness.


    Sollivan furrowed his brows in surprise and wondered to himself.


    ''These people are really scary.'' He silently lamented his extreme weakness.


    He raised his head and looked at the top of the leadership tent where a huge flag hung folded and steady in place due to the lack of any wind to move it. He didn¡¯t see the design on the flag and didn¡¯t try to see it. After looking around for a few seconds, his eyes regained their sparkle, and he took a deep breath that made him puff out his chest and stand straight. He moistened his throat and mentally prepared himself for what was coming next.


    After reaching the palace gate, or rather the enormous tent, they entered without asking the guards for permission. Once again, Sollivan found himself in the short corridor he had seen before. He looked at the large door at the end guarded by two massive warriors and took a step forward behind Blear.


    While he was organizing his thoughts and considering the discussion he might have with the Supreme Leader, he suddenly saw Blear stop in the middle of the corridor, open the door on the left that he had seen before, and gesture for him to follow.


    Without any hesitation or surprise, he obediently followed him and passed through the door to reach a wide, curved corridor shaped like a semi-circle. There were several leather carpets on the floor, giving the corridor an elegant and beautiful appearance.


    There were also several colored and simply patterned doors on the sides, and the corridor was well-lit and ventilated. Sollivan involuntarily raised his head and looked up to find several window holes in the ceiling that allowed light and air to pass through.


    "Stop gawking and follow me." Because of his pause, Blear scolded him loudly, making him snap out of his daze and hurry forward with slightly rushed steps.


    After walking through the corridor for a few seconds, Blear suddenly stopped in front of a specific door with a stern look. He adjusted his posture, and vaguely, Sollivan heard him clearing his dry throat, making him raise his brows in surprise.


    ''Huh, he seems nervous.'' Sollivan mocked him internally and watched his faltering actions with amusement.


    But he suddenly felt a strange sensation coming from behind the door in front of him. He didn¡¯t understand its nature or meaning, but he didn¡¯t have enough time to think about it because he suddenly heard a sweet female voice say.


    "Let him in."


    Blear opened the door politely, then pushed him inside without warning, making him stumble in his steps. He quickly adjusted his posture and scanned the room with a quick glance before his eyes stopped on a beautiful young woman.


    She had reddish-brown hair and a slightly reddish-white face with some freckles under her sky-blue eyes. Her long red horns were exactly the same color as Blear¡¯s, and her lips looked unnaturally shiny, giving her a special charm.


    She wore a light blue dress embroidered with some colorful flowers in a simple pattern, and around her neck was a dark blue robe that covered her shoulders and part of her non-prominent chest.


    Behind her chair stood two tall female warriors wearing armor that covered most of their muscular bodies, making them look like men.


    If it weren¡¯t for their slightly prominent chests and hairless faces, Sollivan wouldn¡¯t have been able to distinguish them from the male warriors.


    Thoughts raced through his head as he tried to analyze the situation, but suddenly his eyes met the girl¡¯s in front of him, intensifying the strange feeling he had felt before entering. He didn¡¯t need much time to realize what it was.


    ''Is this hatred? An intent to kill?''


    He froze in place and abandoned the idea of politely greeting the lady after realizing her feelings. Calmly, he adjusted his posture and arranged his clothes without regard for the others. After a few seconds, he raised his head again, and their gazes met silently.


    Blear looked at him with a complex expression and sighed internally, while the girl didn¡¯t lessen the intensity of her gaze, instead seeming to shake her head slightly, resigned to the reality before her.


    Sollivan didn¡¯t care about their reactions, instead focusing on his mysterious sensation.


    ''What did I do to this girl to make her hate me so much? But more importantly... how can I sense her feelings?''


    He remembered feeling the same thing before, when he sensed Blear¡¯s presence before hearing his footsteps, and also when he was attacked by that beast.


    ''My senses have become abnormally strong... Is this related to my new blood? Or is there something else affecting my abilities?''


    He drifted into his thoughts for a moment, causing a lost expression to appear on his face, but it didn¡¯t last long, as the girl raised her delicate hand and spoke in a complex tone.


    "Sit. Young leader, you may leave."


    She didn¡¯t wait for his reaction, as one of the warriors behind her stepped forward and pushed him to sit on a wooden chair opposite her, with only a medium-sized table separating them.

 Chapter 14: Princess Beatrice

    ¡®Be gentle, you wench.¡¯


    Sollivan adjusted his posture, suppressing the urge to curse the warrior standing behind him. However, he didn¡¯t dare to do so and remained seated in silence, gazing into the eyes of the beautiful girl before him.


    Meanwhile, Blear hesitated for a few seconds before leaving the room.


    "Sollivan, right?" the beautiful girl asked in a sweet yet indifferent tone. Without waiting for his response, she continued speaking, her eyes fixed on him with a stern gaze.


    "My name is Beatrice Griffin. I am the daughter of the leader of this tribe, and I am the one assigned to oversee you. From now on, all your movements will be under my supervision. You are not allowed to disobey my orders. If you need anything, you must inform me first."


    Sollivan was slightly surprised upon hearing this and wasn¡¯t sure how to react. He froze for a moment, his expression one of astonishment. After a long silence, he finally spoke hesitantly, "I understand. So, I must ask you for anything I need, and you¡¯ll provide it if it¡¯s allowed, correct?"


    A cold, arrogant look appeared on Beatrice¡¯s face as she nodded indifferently, showing no interest in his words.


    "Young princess, as you know, I was brought to your tribe without any prior notice. Due to the series of events, I haven¡¯t eaten in a long time. So, am I allowed to have some food now that things have settled down?" This time, Sollivan¡¯s tone was humble, devoid of any arrogance. It wasn¡¯t out of fear for the person who would now decide his fate, but rather to avoid any misunderstandings.


    Beatrice looked into his dark eyes, which seemed devoid of any resistance, and waved her hand indifferently, gesturing to the warrior beside her. "Bring him a decent meal."


    "Yes, ma¡¯am," the warrior replied, placing her hand on her chest in a respectful salute before leaving. However, as soon as she opened the door, Beatrice spoke again.


    "Bring double the amount. It seems he really needs the food." Her voice carried a clear tone of mockery as she glanced at his thin frame.


    Sollivan, however, wasn¡¯t bothered and smiled lightly. "Thank you for your generosity, princess. I was about to ask for that."


    Beatrice¡¯s eyebrows twitched almost imperceptibly, and she looked at his gentle smile with a hint of suspicion. But she said nothing and averted her gaze.


    Click!


    The warrior left, leaving the room in an eerie silence. Even after several minutes, neither of them spoke, and they remained seated, each lost in their own thoughts.


    ''This girl is troublesome.'' Sollivan placed his elbows on the table and clasped his hands in front of his face, hiding his sharp eyes from Beatrice.


    He slowly lowered his head and glanced at the legs of his chair, where a shadow in the shape of a chair lay. Strangely, the shadow seemed to move as he looked at it, as if reacting to his gaze.


    ''Stay hidden.''


    He sent his command through the link he shared with the shadow, then raised his head again and stole a glance at Beatrice, who was sitting indifferently across from him. But suddenly, she lifted her head and met his gaze, as if she had sensed him looking at her. Unexpectedly, she spoke.


    "Don¡¯t think of doing anything foolish. Even if you have an abyss beast by your side, it won¡¯t help you, given how weak both of you are."


    Hearing her mockery, Sollivan raised his head, no longer hiding his eyes, and asked in surprise, "An abyss beast? Are you talking about the shadow I contracted with?" He didn¡¯t try to hide the shadow or deny its existence. Several people had witnessed the chaotic contract ritual, so he knew most were aware of it. The fact that they hadn¡¯t taken any action against him was proof enough that he posed no threat to them.


    Beatrice raised her eyebrows in surprise, adjusted her relaxed posture, and mocked him with a serious face.


    "Are you being serious? Do you not know what an abyss beast is? Ah! Come to think of it, I heard you claim to have lost your memory. But you¡¯re overdoing your lie. You¡¯ll need to improve your acting if you want us to believe you." She chuckled lightly, her expression filled with a strange mix of mockery and pity.


    Sollivan opened his mouth slightly, at a loss for words for a moment. He narrowed his eyes, wanting to explain himself, but in the end, he decided to remain silent and simply sighed. ''I¡¯ve been misunderstood again. I really don¡¯t know anything.'' He raised his hand, wanting to smack his forehead, but stopped halfway, fearing it might offend Beatrice.


    The room returned to its usual silence, and neither of them spoke again. After a few moments, Beatrice suddenly stood up from her chair and said in an indifferent tone, "Warrior Mina, keep an eye on him. Once he¡¯s finished eating, take him to meet Fredrick to begin his training." Without giving him another glance, she left the room.


    Sigh!


    Sollivan let out a relieved breath and relaxed slightly. ''Being in a position of weakness is truly nerve-wracking.'' He raised his hands and rubbed his temples, not caring about Mina, who was watching him with a disgusted expression.


    Time passed slowly, and after waiting for about thirty minutes, the warrior who had left earlier returned, carrying a large wooden tray filled with several dishes. Without any courtesy or respect, she slammed the tray onto the table, causing the dishes to rattle and some of the meat broth to spill onto the table.


    The aroma of the delicious food wafted into Sollivan¡¯s nose, and his stomach growled with hunger. Without hesitation, he reached for the largest dish, which contained a large, juicy red steak.


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    He picked it up with his hands, ignoring the heat, and took a big bite, letting the juices smear the corners of his lips. However, he couldn¡¯t enjoy the taste because the heat burned his tongue. His eyes widened, and he exhaled hurriedly, making a strange and slightly funny expression before swallowing it.


    Without hesitation, he took another bite, but this time he savored the salty and delicious flavor, forgetting the heat in his mouth. The taste of the meat brought back memories of a flavor he hadn¡¯t experienced in years due to his poverty and frugality.


    But he didn¡¯t want to be bothered by old emotions, and with great voracity, he began stuffing the meat into his mouth like a ravenous beast. Within a minute, he had finished the entire steak and reached for another piece with his greasy hands.


    The warriors in the room grimaced, their expressions growing more disgusted. Strangely, they involuntarily took a step back and averted their gazes from him. Even for their tribe, which valued strength and ferocity, Sollivan¡¯s actions were excessive.


    Burp!


    But Sollivan didn¡¯t notice their reactions; he had completely forgotten their presence. He didn¡¯t lift his head from the table until he had finished all the meat dishes. He licked his lips, then suddenly opened his mouth and let out a loud, obnoxious burp.


    His saliva, mixed with bits of meat and fat, sprayed onto the table in front of him. Anyone seeing him now wouldn¡¯t believe he was the same polite and respectful person from earlier. He raised his hand and patted his slightly bulging stomach, muttering, "I¡¯m still not full."


    He quickly scanned the table with his eyes and finally noticed a small plate with three strange square pieces. ''Are these desserts?'' he wondered curiously, picking up one of the square pieces, which was about the size of an apricot. He examined it carefully, trying to figure out what it was. After a few seconds, his eyebrows raised in surprise.


    "It¡¯s meat!" The muscle fibers were clearly visible. But his surprise lasted only a moment before he carelessly stuffed the piece into his mouth. However, as soon as it touched his tongue, it melted, spreading an incredible sweetness throughout his mouth. His body shivered strangely, and his eyes widened. Involuntarily, he reached for another piece and ate it.


    ''What is this taste!'' He was shocked by the tenderness and sweetness of the meat. Even for someone who had tasted some luxurious desserts in the past, he couldn¡¯t believe what his taste buds were telling him.


    But his surprise didn¡¯t last long, and soon his usual indifferent expression returned as he picked up the last piece and ate it. He looked at the empty plate with a slightly dissatisfied expression before relaxing.


    He wiped his hands with a linen cloth that had come with the dishes and leaned back in his chair.


    He closed his eyes and relaxed his body, looking as if he was about to take a short nap. But suddenly, he heard footsteps approaching his chair. He opened his left eye and glanced at the muscular warrior standing beside him, then sighed. He opened both eyes and stood up calmly.


    "Let¡¯s go."


    Without waiting for the warrior¡¯s response, he quietly got up and opened the door. After taking a few steps down the long hallway, he stopped and turned to look back at the warriors, asking, "Where is Fredrick?" But he received no answer other than their disgusted looks.


    The warriors walked with heavy, threatening steps, and when they reached him, one of them pointed a thick finger at him and said in a deadly tone while pushing him with her finger, "Don¡¯t you dare order us around again." Each word she spoke was like thunder in Sollivan¡¯s ears, and he took a step back.


    He slowly adjusted his posture and looked into the eyes of the warriors in front of him. After a minute of silence, he replied submissively, "Understood."


    "Hmph!" The warrior who had scolded him bumped into his body as she walked past. Before he could regain his balance, another warrior hit him with her shoulder, sending him crashing into the wooden wall.


    ¡­


    "Who would believe that this savage hybrid could become the princess¡¯s future husband? Has the leader gone blind?" In a soft, barely audible whisper, Mina muttered to her companion walking beside her, casting a quick glance at Sollivan, who was stuck to the wall.


    The other warrior¡¯s eyes widened, and she looked at Mina sternly, scolding her in a low voice, "Quiet, the leader might hear us. Besides, nothing has been decided yet, and who knows what might happen."


    ¡­


    "Tsk!" Sollivan exhaled angrily but said nothing and quickly adjusted his posture. He smoothed his slightly disheveled hair and hurried to catch up with the warriors who had walked ahead.


    ¡­


    After leaving the leader¡¯s house and walking for a while through the center of the city, Sollivan and his escorts arrived at a large tent surrounded by several stables housing the strange horses he had seen earlier. He looked around warily, observing the massive horses and the young boys taking care of them. But his eyes were drawn curiously to the horses¡¯ strange food, which was a mixture of minced meat and plants.


    Despite the odd sight, he wasn¡¯t particularly surprised. The world was vast, and it was filled with all sorts of strange things. Horses eating meat was still within the realm of believability. He averted his gaze, no longer distracted by his thoughts, and focused on the large tent ahead. His steps were slightly slow, but he eventually reached the tent¡¯s entrance, which was covered by a large curtain.


    Warrior Mina pushed the curtain aside, revealing the spacious interior of the tent, which was filled with various tools: saddles, weapons, metal tools, and food buckets. The tent was like a large storage room filled with equipment for the horses. As he surveyed his surroundings, his eyes landed on a large, rough-looking man dressed in neat and elegant clothing, different from the other warriors.


    Fredrick had a gentle and serene expression as he cleaned his horse¡¯s saddle, meticulously removing every bit of dirt. His attention to detail was so thorough that he even cleaned the narrow corners between the saddle¡¯s decorations.


    Contrary to Sollivan¡¯s expectations, the warriors didn¡¯t offer any greetings and remained standing in their places obediently. To him, this seemed strange, as he had previously seen warriors loudly thump their chests and shout whenever they encountered someone of higher status. He didn¡¯t dwell on it too much and instead observed Fredrick¡¯s focused expression.


    ''He seems very peaceful and calm. He reminds me of myself when I was copying books. Thinking about it, the thing I hated most while doing that was the loud and annoying noises.'' He turned his head and stared at Mina¡¯s face with an enlightened expression: ''I get it.''


    Suddenly, Fredrick raised his head and said in a calm voice, "You may leave. The hybrid stays."


    The warriors placed their hands on their chests politely and shyly without saying a word. Sollivan, however, stood at the entrance for a moment, stunned, before seeing Fredrick gesture for him to approach.


    Slowly and carefully, he walked forward, avoiding any objects in his path to prevent making any noise. When he reached Fredrick, he saw him pull something from his clothes and hand it to him.


    "Read this. It contains everything about the basics of training. If you don¡¯t understand anything or encounter any difficulties, you can ask me."


    "Alright," Sollivan replied curtly as he took the book. Without asking further questions, he searched for a good spot to sit.


    After sitting down, he didn¡¯t open the book immediately. Instead, he took a few minutes to calm his mind and clear his thoughts. The training techniques and explanations were somewhat complex and required focus to understand, so he didn¡¯t allow any distractions or wandering thoughts.


    He opened the hard leather cover of the book and looked at the first page, which was written in a language that felt very familiar to him. But this time, unlike before, he could read everything easily, which suddenly made his clear mind chaotic.


    "This is..." He brought the book closer to his face and read the first page again.


    ''This is the same language as the black book. How did I become so proficient in reading it?''


    Suddenly, he opened his mouth and relaxed his hand, causing the book to fall to the ground. He raised his head and looked forward, lost in thought. His mind raced as he remembered all the conversations he had had since arriving in this world. It was then that he realized he wasn¡¯t speaking the language he knew, but rather the language of the black book.


    Sigh!


    He shook his head and held it in frustration: ''I thought the surprises were over.'' He laughed mockingly and bent down slowly to pick up the book from the ground. "But how?"


    ''The blood, the language, the sudden contract, not to mention the fact that I¡¯m still not full after eating all that food, and lastly, that vague idea that has been lingering in my mind since I woke up.


    Everything is wrong and out of place. Even the black book, which is likely the cause of all this, I can¡¯t see or perceive it.'' His expression twisted, and he felt a suffocating tightness in his chest. But suddenly, he forcefully stopped all his thoughts and calmed himself.


    "Huh?"


    He exhaled a long breath, releasing all his sadness and anger. He no longer bothered himself with things he couldn¡¯t control, though he still occasionally lost his composure.


    He opened the next page of the training book and began reading it intently. Every second he spent reading made him relax more. His mind was no longer chaotic, and he focused all his thoughts on understanding and analyzing what he was reading. And so, time passed.


    ¡­


    Fredrick, who had been engrossed in cleaning his horse¡¯s saddle, heard a faint sound that made him glance up and stare at Sollivan, who was sitting nearby. He noticed that Sollivan had dropped his book and was making a very strange expression. ''What¡¯s wrong with him?'' Fredrick wondered silently, but he didn¡¯t stop what he was doing and continued to focus part of his attention on Sollivan. Then he heard him mutter.


    "But how?"


    These few words made Fredrick¡¯s heart beat faster. Involuntarily, he raised his head and stared at Sollivan, whose expression was one of confusion.


    To Fredrick and the rest of the tribe, Sollivan was an enigma, a very mysterious one at that, with no clues about his identity. Even if he was a half-human hybrid, his primitive blood alone made him an incredibly valuable figure across the vast plains. Even the tribe¡¯s leader was acting very cautiously around him and had shown some interest in improving the lineage of his daughter¡¯s descendants.


    But the confusion on Sollivan¡¯s face suddenly disappeared, and he picked up his book again, reading it intently. Fredrick raised his eyebrows skeptically, but even after observin


    g him for several more minutes, there was no change in Sollivan¡¯s demeanor. He seemed deeply engrossed and oddly enjoying the reading.


    Sigh!


    ''No answers, then.¡¯

 Chapter 15: Understanding Differences, Training

    Time passed quietly, and even after Fredrick finished cleaning his horse''s saddle, he found other tasks to occupy himself while Sollivan continued reading.


    The hours dragged on slowly for Fredrick, but for Sollivan, time flew by. After several hours, as the sun began to set, Sollivan lifted his head and exhaled. He stood up slowly, stretching his stiff body, and patted his numb backside.


    "Ah, damn! I forgot I have feeling in this area, unlike my old body. I never thought not feeling my backside was a privilege. This explains the saying, ''There¡¯s good in every hardship.''"


    He looked at the small book in his hand and sighed in amazement.


    ''Huff, this is a lot. The power system in this world is completely different from mine. For these people, blood determines their future.


    If I understand correctly, their blood is divided into three grades: deep crimson, normal crimson, and light crimson.''


    He turned his head and glanced around, finding the area empty, but he didn¡¯t care about Fredrick¡¯s presence and continued thinking.


    ''The lighter the blood, the stronger it is. To begin training, they must go through three initial stages: Enhancement, Awakening, and Transformation.


    In the Enhancement stage, they rigorously train their bodies and consume large amounts of meat to strengthen their muscles and physique. This is similar to the body-strengthening phase in my world, though it¡¯s a secondary stage here, its importance remains.


    If the body isn¡¯t strong enough, they could die from the reaction caused by the Awakening stage, where they awaken the power of their blood.


    According to the book, some tribes call this stage the ''Threshold,'' as it¡¯s the gateway to truly developing their power. This reminds me of the early stage of opening meridians in my previous world.''


    His thoughts paused for a moment, and he opened the book to a specific page.


    ''The basics are clear, but I don¡¯t fully understand the Transformation stage. According to what¡¯s written here, blood possesses a unique power passed down from their ancestors.


    Through this power, they can transform and strengthen their bodies beyond normal limits. However, this process isn¡¯t smooth, and the purity of their blood determines how far they can progress.''


    An enlightened expression appeared on his face, and he snapped his fingers in understanding. ''This explains a lot. However, this book doesn¡¯t mention much about Primordial Blood.''


    He quickly flipped through the pages toward the end until he reached a specific page. Suspiciously, he brought the book closer to his face and read a particular line: "Primordial Blood."


    ''An extremely rare and powerful blood, divided into several classifications, each with unique abilities. The known information about Primordial Blood is very limited due to its rarity and the secrecy of the clans that possess it.


    However, it¡¯s known that it¡¯s graded like normal blood, but even so, they can¡¯t be compared due to the immense power of Primordial Blood.''


    Even after reading the same page twice, the impact it had on him remained the same. He let out a long sigh and closed the book with a puzzled expression.


    ''At least I have a privilege here that makes my value clear. But at the same time, my blood remains a double-edged sword. If I don¡¯t handle it well, I might attract some greedy villains.''


    His body shivered for a moment as he recalled some of the demonic techniques he had read about.


    He quickly cleared his mind and pushed away the disturbing images. He raised his hand and scratched his chin.


    ''Thinking about it, this explains why all the warriors¡¯ bodies are muscular, tough, and radiate an aura of strength.


    Once their blood is awakened, their internal organs are upgraded, starting with the muscles, then the brain and organs, and finally the bones.


    According to what¡¯s written, if a warrior can transform and upgrade every part of their body, they gain a Blood Trait. A trait? It sounds like some kind of ability. But unfortunately, nothing is mentioned about it.'' He lowered his hand and narrowed his eyes.


    ''There¡¯s no comparison. In my previous world, training focused on cultivating external energy and integrating it into the body to transform it into a core of concentrated energy capable of controlling the laws of nature.


    But in this world, their concept of power revolves around the body and raw strength. For them, the goal isn¡¯t to control the laws but to destroy them with bare hands. This is savage and suits their race.''


    Clang!


    Suddenly, a faint sound came from the door, making him lift his head and look at Fredrick, who pushed the curtain aside and glanced at him with slight annoyance. "Are you done?"


    Sollivan stood up straight and spoke politely. "Yes, thank you for taking the time to teach me."


    Although Fredrick hadn¡¯t taught him anything directly and had only given him a book to read, it was still a good opportunity for Sollivan to learn new information.


    So, he decided not to hold back on his praise. ''Since I might be here for a long time, there¡¯s no harm in improving my relationship with them.'' He looked at Fredrick¡¯s frowning face and sighed. ''This won¡¯t be easy.''


    "So, do you have any questions about the basics? Do you need further guidance?" Fredrick asked impatiently and indifferently.


    Sollivan slightly bowed his head and placed his left hand on his chest. "Thank you for your generosity. I do have a few questions that are bothering me."


    Fredrick gestured for him to ask in a cold manner, but his stern expression hid a hint of curiosity.


    "Can people awaken their blood directly without enhancing their bodies? Also, how is blood awakened? It wasn¡¯t mentioned in the book you gave me."


    "Yes, they can. If their bodies are naturally strong and their blood is pure enough. As for awakening blood, it happens naturally. At some point, a Kornavar realizes they can awaken their blood.


    This usually happens around the age of 15, but it¡¯s not fixed. Also, meditation and certain external elements can help awaken blood, but these aren¡¯t our methods," Fredrick answered indifferently, not hiding anything from him.Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    Sollivan nodded in understanding and said, "I see."


    Fredrick turned his head and looked at the horizon, which was beginning to darken. "Let¡¯s go, it¡¯s getting late." He took a step outside, then stopped and turned to stare into his eyes.


    "As for you, it¡¯s too late. You¡¯re a hybrid with a weak body, and even if your blood is Primordial, it¡¯s not pure enough. Don¡¯t think too much about it because the results will be bad."


    Sollivan averted his gaze because he couldn¡¯t stare into Fredrick¡¯s eyes for too long, and he replied curtly, "I understand. Let¡¯s go."


    Both of them left the horse stables under the last light of the large orange sun.


    After a few minutes of walking through the wide alleys filled with smells and large torches that lit up the area, keeping the night¡¯s darkness at bay, they arrived at the leader¡¯s palace.


    Fredrick stopped at the gate, and without any farewell, he left, leaving Sollivan standing there, surrounded by guards who stared at him with sharp, dagger-like eyes.


    Without waiting long, Sollivan saw the unattractive warrior Mina with her coarse, braided hair coming to escort him.


    She gestured to him, and obediently, he followed her. After entering the giant tent and passing through some wide corridors, they reached a small door. Mina opened the door and pointed sternly. "Go in."


    Sollivan didn¡¯t respond and entered directly. As soon as he turned around, he saw the door close behind him. Clearly, he heard the sound of the key locking the door.


    "I¡¯m detained again." He turned slowly and examined the room, which was lit by a small glowing stone.


    He stared at his bed made of beast wool and hides and nodded in satisfaction. Then he looked at his shadow and said, "We¡¯re alone again." In response to his words, the shadow emerged from his form and stared at him with its emerald-red eyes.


    Their eyes met, and suddenly, an idea struck Sollivan. He asked curiously, "It¡¯s strange that I¡¯ve been calling you ''Shadow'' after your kind." He paused for a moment and pointed at it.


    "From now on, I¡¯ll call you Noctis. It¡¯s a good name, isn¡¯t it?" In response to his words, the shadow seemed to nod in agreement. Through the link they shared, Sollivan felt a slight sense of happiness emanating from Noctis. "It seems you like it."


    Sollivan chuckled softly and then said in a calm tone, "Guard the door." Following his orders, Noctis quickly walked over and stood by the door like a loyal guard.


    Yawn!


    Sollivan looked at it with satisfaction and yawned tiredly, his eyes slightly teary, before slowly heading to his bed.


    But before lying down, he adjusted his bed a little to make it more comfortable. Then, he lay on his back and stared at the brown ceiling of the tent. "This light is annoying." He raised his hand and blocked the light from his eyes. Then he commanded sternly.


    "Turn off."


    Strangely, the light from the glowing stone dimmed significantly, and the room became slightly dark, with only a faint light in the center. ''This is good. The technique used to create these glowing stones is similar to my world.''


    To avoid quickly depleting the glowing stones, they¡¯re equipped with a simple formation that activates with a keyword or a specific gesture. The formation¡¯s function is very simple: it turns the stone on or off, making it practical and very useful.


    Sollivan stared at the faint light emanating from the stone. ''It¡¯s been a good day, unlike usual.'' Memories of the day returned to his mind, and he began reviewing them tiredly. After a few minutes, he closed his eyes and fell into a deep sleep.


    ¡­


    Knock!


    "Ugh..."


    Sollivan¡¯s eyes fluttered open, and he struggled to open his tired eyes. "Ugh..." He licked his dry lips and regained some clarity.


    Knock!


    The loud knocking suddenly brought him back to full awareness, but he didn¡¯t rush to get up.


    "Light."


    The glowing stone lit up, illuminating the room, but his vision was slightly disturbed, making him squint as he got out of bed. He pushed the blanket aside and sat up.


    Yawn!


    He stretched his body tiredly, making him lean back into his bed lazily. "Tsk, I want more sleep."


    "What a nuisance!" As he grumbled silently, a wave of thoughts entered his mind, making his tired face regain its sternness. Quickly, he got out of bed, scanned the room with his eyes, and glanced at the shadow Noctis for a moment.


    ''It¡¯s you.'' He felt a little surprised by the shadow¡¯s ability to communicate with him in this way, but the knocking on the door distracted his focus. Annoyed, he commanded, "Hide!"


    Then he began to straighten his clothes and messy hair.


    Clang!


    Suddenly, he lifted his head and stared at his room¡¯s door. Without waiting long, he saw the door swing open as Mina pushed it aside and glared at him sternly. "What took you so long? Get out!"


    "Yes, ma¡¯am." Sollivan walked hurriedly and left his room under Mina¡¯s annoyed gaze. Politely, he greeted her.


    "Good morning."


    But he received no response. Nevertheless, he maintained his friendly expression and waited silently until Mina closed his room¡¯s door before she gestured for him to walk.


    He walked slowly and followed her through some corridors until they reached a familiar room. Without waiting for Mina¡¯s signal, he knocked politely on the door and then opened it and entered.


    He was greeted by a slightly spacious room with a large table and several chairs where a few people were seated. He glanced at the familiar faces: Blear, Fredrick, Princess Beatrice, and the other warrior who accompanied her.


    But his gaze lingered on the fierce faces for only a moment before shifting to the table filled with food and dishes full of roasted and grilled meats. Involuntarily, his mouth began to water. He walked quickly forward and bowed casually, greeting them.


    "Greetings to the lords."


    Then he sat on the chair opposite Beatrice and, without any permission, reached for the largest dish, where a piece of soft and delicious jelly-like meat was placed. But just as he was about to grab the dish, he heard Beatrice¡¯s cold voice.


    "Stop."


    Everyone¡¯s eyes narrowed, and they looked at him with different expressions before Fredrick laughed loudly.


    "I don¡¯t know if you¡¯re brave enough to ignore all of us or if your craving for meat has made you blind to the point of asking for death."


    Blear shook his head in disgust. "Your impudence knows no bounds."


    But despite that, he showed a slight smile when he looked at Sollivan, frozen in place.


    Sollivan didn¡¯t retract his hand and remained frozen in his strange position. His eyes widened in horror, and he quickly looked at Beatrice, whose face was cold and indifferent.


    ''What did you do to me? Why can¡¯t I move?'' He wanted to move, but he felt a tightness in his chest, as if an invisible hand was gripping his heart and could crush it at any moment.


    Memories flashed through his mind at a frantic pace as he tried to make sense of his situation, and suddenly, he remembered the incident at the well and the strange chain that had entered his body.


    After several seconds of being stuck in his terrifying state, he heard Beatrice utter the words of pardon.


    "Be polite and eat what we offer you." At that moment, the strange feeling wrapped around his heart disappeared, but the terror he felt didn¡¯t lessen at all. He quickly pulled his hand back and sat up straight, involuntarily unable to even lift his head and meet the eyes of the people around him.


    Blear¡¯s smile widened at the sight of Sollivan¡¯s dreadful appearance, and he mocked.


    "It seems you¡¯ve finally understood your place." But he received no response from Sollivan, making his mocking smile fade slightly.


    ''Damn, I forgot about this, or rather, I didn¡¯t pay attention to it. When I was branded with the well¡¯s seal, several things happened that made me ignore the chain.


    But I didn¡¯t feel anything strange when the sealing ritual ended, and I thought it was just a tracking or anchoring mark that prevented me from straying too far from the tribe.''


    He lamented silently and cursed his strange impulsiveness. After a few minutes, he regained his composure and stole a quick glance at Beatrice, who was eating her food indifferently.


    Sigh.


    He exhaled internally, and this time, with full politeness, he picked up a fork and a small knife and began eating the meat like a noble from the upper class. Everyone¡¯s eyes fell on him for a moment before they continued eating. After finishing the meal, an elderly maid came and took the dishes. Then, Beatrice looked at Sollivan and said.


    "Sollivan."


    Sollivan lifted his head and looked at her face respectfully this time and replied. "Yes."


    "Starting today, you¡¯ll undergo a strict training and education regimen.


    The goal is simple: to adapt you to living in our tribe and also to stimulate your blood and strengthen your body so you can undergo the Awakening and Transformation. Perhaps Warrior Fredrick has already told you this, but you¡¯ve passed the usual age for Awakening, and your body is also very weak due to your mixed blood."


    Fredrick nodded and confirmed: "Yes, I told him this last night."


    After a moment of hesitation, Sollivan finally asked.


    "Your Highness, then what will we do? Will the training you¡¯re talking about be enough to awaken my blood?"


    The princess paused for a moment and narrowed her eyes before answering uncertainly.


    "Training alone isn¡¯t enough. Even if we intensely stimulate your blood and bring out its potential, we¡¯ll have to go against tradition and provide assistance materials. But since you¡¯re an outsider, you won¡¯t face any opposition." Her tone changed, and a strange look appeared on her face.


    "I don¡¯t recommend raising your expectations, as your ability to awaken your blood still depends on you and your luck."


    After absorbing all her words and thinking about the hidden meanings within them, Sollivan nodded respectfully and replied. "I understand."


    Their meeting lasted a short while before Beatrice and Blear left, leaving only Sollivan and Fredrick. They looked at each other, and with a strange smile, Fredrick said.


    "Prepare yourself mentally and physically for training, because we¡¯re starting now."


    ...


    [Two hours later]


    In a wide, empty yard behind the leader¡¯s palace, Sollivan stood in a squatting position with a stern face and clenched teeth.


    The veins on his face and body bulged like worms crawling beneath his skin. Meanwhile, sweat dripped from every pore of his body, unwilling to stop. He opened his mouth and took a long breath, followed by an exhausted exhale, then cursed silently in his heart.


    ''Does he want to kill me? At first, I thought the training would be something reasonable, but he didn¡¯t just stretch and pull my muscles to the point where they almost tore, he also made me hold a squatting position for three hours before continuing the training. How far does he want to go?''


    He lifted his head and stared blankly at the clear, beautiful sky.


    ''In the past, not to mention the hellish stretching exercises, I would¡¯ve handled this training well and wouldn¡¯t be this exhausted.


    The years of injury made me lose my edge and become a bit lax.'' A determined look appeared in his eyes, then he lowered his head and stared at Fredrick, who was sitting in a shaded spot, resting indifferently.


    But Sollivan didn¡¯t show any annoyance, and on the contrary, his desire to train increased as he remembered his past self. He followed his ancestors¡¯ breathing techniques and regulated his chaotic breathing. At that moment, he felt the pressure from the intense exhaustion lessen slightly. ''This is certain, calming breathing techniques are still useful.'' He organized his thoughts, closed his eyes, and tried to enter a meditative state to forget the fatigue.


    Although his body had reached its limit, suppressing his random thoughts allowed him to continue training for longer.


    After another thirty minutes, meditation and breathing techniques were no longer helpful. His face swelled and turned blue from exhaustion.


    Even his breathing became almost cut off and difficult.


    ''I¡¯ve reached my limit.'' While drenched in sweat, he suddenly felt a strange heat emanating from inside his body, spreading through his entire being, starting from his heart.


    "Huff, huff, what is this? Huff..." He tried to think logically, but his exhaustion blinded him. In the end, he involuntarily fell to the ground, lying on his back as he breathed heavily.


    The heat he felt in his body, or rather his blood, lasted for a few moments before disappearing completely.


    Empty, a familiar figure appeared in his sight. "Have you reached your limit this quickly? You¡¯ve barely made it to two hours. How weak you are!"


    "Huff, I need a break," Sollivan exhaled with difficulty, his words dry.


    Fredrick shook his head. "Fine, you have an hour''s rest, and then we¡¯ll continue the training."

 Chapter 16: A Stroll with the Princess

    The door to Sollivan¡¯s quiet and silent room suddenly opened, and a hunched-over young man entered, panting heavily. Every step he took was unsteady, as if he were severely drunk.


    After walking through the small room, he finally reached his soft, familiar bed and collapsed face-first onto it. When he heard the door lock, he cursed into the mattress, his voice muffled.


    "Those bastards almost killed me." With great effort, he turned over to face the ceiling and spread his arms out to relax, trying to ease the pain in his arm muscles. "Huff," he exhaled with difficulty and lifted his head slightly to look at his stretched-out body. "I¡¯ve never sweated like this in my entire life. Even after showering, I still feel the sticky discomfort of my skin."


    Finally, he stopped complaining and closed his eyes quietly, relaxing his body. His breathing steadied, and it seemed as though he had fallen asleep. But after a few minutes of rest, he opened his tired eyes and stared at the ceiling for a long time before struggling to get up from the bed.


    Exhausted, he commanded, "Come out."


    As usual, Noctis emerged from his shadow and stood before him. The crimson eyes stared at him, and with concern, Sollivan raised his hand and scratched his chin.


    "I¡¯m in a weak position, and you¡¯re the only thing¡ªor rather, the only person¡ªI can rely on." When he remembered the incident that had happened that morning, he felt anxious and threatened. He could no longer maintain his composure when he realized he was branded with a mark resembling a slave seal.


    "I wouldn¡¯t have realized it if it weren¡¯t for my reckless actions. But at least the leader didn¡¯t overdo it and left the controlling authority to only a few people. It seems that Blear, despite his status, doesn¡¯t have any authority over me."


    He thought deeply and tried to analyze the nature of the seal placed on his body, but he stopped after a few seconds.


    His knowledge was too limited, and even if he knew the type of seal, he likely wouldn¡¯t be able to remove it anytime soon. After organizing his thoughts, he refocused on his priorities. He lifted his head and looked at Noctis, and after hesitating for a moment, he ordered sternly, "Turn your hand into a sword."


    Following his command, the shadow¡¯s hand twisted strangely and began to contort in a mysterious way, eventually transforming into a slightly short sword.


    Sollivan stood up and raised Noctis¡¯s hand. He felt a strange, cold texture, and without paying much attention to it, he began to check the sharpness of the black sword. But he frowned because the sword wasn¡¯t sharp.


    He couldn¡¯t order it to attack objects in the room for fear of making noise that would attract the leader¡¯s and the warriors¡¯ attention. "I need to find an opportunity to test your strength properly." He paused for a moment before ordering again.


    "Turn your hand into a needle and make its tip very sharp."


    Noctis¡¯s hand twisted again, transforming into a large needle with a sharp, pointed tip.


    Sollivan looked at it before grabbing it and directing it toward his arm. He tightened his grip and tensed his muscles as much as he could despite his exhaustion, and with clenched teeth, he ordered.


    "Obey me, but don¡¯t stab with full force from the start. Gradually increase the strength until you can pierce my skin."


    The shadow pushed its hand with reduced force, but Sollivan only felt a slight prick, making his eyebrows arch in disappointment again. "Increase the strength."


    The shadow increased the force of its push, but the needle¡¯s tip deformed and compressed slightly before reforming into the shape of the needle.


    Pierce!


    Drip!


    After two attempts, the needle¡¯s tip pierced Sollivan¡¯s arm, causing a small amount of his blood to flow and drip onto the ground. "Alright, retreat."


    As soon as the shadow retreated, Sollivan wiped the blood from his wound and wrapped his arm with a soft cloth. He raised his hand and looked at the blood sticking to his fingers, exhaling in disappointment.


    "Your offensive strength is too weak, or rather, it won¡¯t be effective against those stone-bodied warriors. We need to find a pattern that makes you suitable for combat. If we take advantage of your excellent stealth ability, we can perform deadly attacks on very vital points." He spoke with dissatisfaction while his eyes remained fixed on his blood with curiosity. Since he learned about the transformation of his blood, he had been paying more attention to his physical condition.


    Suddenly, his eyebrows arched strangely, and he frowned. He raised his hand and brought it closer to his face, as if wanting to see every detail of his blood.


    He froze in his position for a short moment before tilting his head back with wide eyes. He gasped quickly and wanted to speak, but the words got stuck in his throat. After a long moment of standing in shock and disbelief.


    "The color of my blood has faded."


    His words carried an unbelieving tone, but he was certain of what he was saying. He had seen the color of his blood more than once and remembered it in detail. Now, although it hadn¡¯t changed much, its color had become less dark.


    "But this is impossible. I¡¯ve read that the color of blood doesn¡¯t change. How? Even Primordial Blood is said not to be this unique." He stepped back with faltering steps and sat on his bed. But his gaze didn¡¯t leave his hand. "Something¡¯s wrong."


    He suddenly lifted his head and scanned every corner of the room with wary eyes. Even after finding the place empty, he felt uneasy and wished with all his heart that what he was seeing was some kind of illusion.


    Time passed slowly, and even the extreme exhaustion he felt disappeared. His eyes remained open, and even after placing his head on the pillow, peace and sleep refused to come to him. He tossed and turned in his bed anxiously, and after a long time of lying down, he got up and exhaled angrily.


    But suddenly, he felt a wave of thoughts entering his mind. He lifted his head, filled with chaotic thoughts, and looked at Noctis, who was still staring at his blood-stained hand. He looked at it and remembered that, in his shock, he had forgotten to wipe his blood.


    "Do you want the blood? I forgot that our contract guarantees you periodic access to my blood." He felt an intense eagerness emanating from Noctis, and after a short moment of thought, he pointed to his blood-stained hand. "Take it."


    As soon as he issued the command, he found Noctis standing before him, transformed into something resembling a black cloud that dispersed and surrounded him from all directions.


    A mysterious coldness spread through every part of his body, and then he felt a strange pain in the wound on his arm. The blood began to leave his body and spread through the black mist, which glowed with a dark blue hue and floated happily.


    Sollivan felt the shadow¡¯s intense happiness emanating from all around him, so he didn¡¯t interrupt and remained seated. After a short while, he felt extreme exhaustion and weakness in his legs, and then he ordered sternly.


    "Enough."


    Despite its reluctance, the dark cloud moved and took on Noctis¡¯s usual form. Its crimson eyes continued to look at Sollivan greedily, but its greedy feelings lasted only moments before disappearing, returning to its usual cold state.


    "Huff, you¡¯re greedy." Although Sollivan spoke mockingly, the extreme exhaustion and fatigue were evident on him.


    He looked at his body and was slightly surprised to see all traces of blood gone from his body, and even his wound, which had bothered him, had forcefully healed and no longer emitted any bloody smell. He looked into the shadow¡¯s eyes and said with some gratitude.


    "You¡¯ve hidden all the evidence."


    At that moment, Sollivan felt a little relieved. He had been worried that someone might sense the strangeness of his blood or catch its scent. He didn¡¯t know how observant these tribesmen were, but he preferred caution over risk.


    He stretched out on his bed with hazy eyes. Despite his anxiety and chaotic thoughts, his extreme exhaustion overwhelmed him, making him fall asleep quickly.


    ¡­


    The next morning, he opened his eyes, which showed signs of fatigue due to their slight blueness. He looked at the familiar ceiling, and then all the memories of the previous day came to his mind, making him exhale sharply. "I¡¯m tired, and I won¡¯t be able to train in this condition."


    Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.


    Knock!


    Tap!


    As if someone had heard his words, a faint knock came from the door.


    He moved his heavy body and stood up. He was so tired that he didn¡¯t even bother to yawn and stretch. Nevertheless, he maintained a sharp gaze. He scanned his surroundings and looked at his clean clothes, and even bent down to look at the floor where drops of his blood had fallen, but he found nothing.


    Even the cloth he had wrapped around his arm earlier was clean. At that moment, he felt some relief, but he didn¡¯t immediately go to open the door. Instead, he stood in place and uttered words he himself could hardly believe.


    "I can return to my world?"


    ''At first, I thought the idea lingering in my mind was something related to my blood or the bond between me and Noctis, but I was wrong. Apparently, that idea is the key to returning, and now I can reach it.'' He thought silently for a few moments before muttering.


    "But will I still be able to walk when I return? Maybe I¡¯ll lose everything, and even the shadow won¡¯t come with me."


    A faint worry arose in his heart, and it didn¡¯t take long for it to turn into a deep fear of returning. He thought deeply about his predicament and reviewed all his options. At first, when he came to this world, he was angry and deeply afraid. At the same time, he felt a deep guilt for his inability to stay in his family¡¯s world and achieve his revenge.


    But now, he no longer wanted to return, or rather, he had become afraid of losing everything he had gained. Yes, his life was complicated in this world, and he had been branded with a slave seal. But in return, he had regained his ability to walk, possessed unique Primordial Blood, not to mention the shadow that accompanied him as a loyal servant and faithful companion.


    Knock!


    Clang!


    "Tsk." The knocking stopped, followed by the sound of the door opening.


    He turned his head and looked at the familiar warrior with sharp eyes. With a hunched and submissive posture, he walked with her to the familiar room. He opened the door and entered to be greeted by the table full of food. But this time, only Beatrice and her accompanying warrior, Lora, were in the room, along with the maid assigned to serve them.


    He looked around warily and asked, "Where¡¯s Fredrick?"


    Beatrice lifted her head and looked at him with a bit of coldness. "His name is Warrior Fredrick."


    ''Yes, yes, we get it, respect and all that nonsense.'' Due to his foul mood, Sollivan could barely keep his mouth shut.


    Beatrice noticed his strange look but didn¡¯t care and continued speaking.


    "He told us about your weakness. So, he decided to give you a day off so your body can recover. As for today, you¡¯ll accompany me on my daily tasks so you can learn about the tribe¡¯s life and customs."


    Sollivan was slightly surprised and replied, "I understand."


    He sat in his chair and began eating his food. But his mind was preoccupied with other matters, as he thought deeply about his decision.


    Beatrice saw his blank stares and shook her head in pity for her fate. ''I can¡¯t believe my father hasn¡¯t changed his decision even after I begged him. Can¡¯t he see how weak and foolish this person is? Primordial Blood is more of a curse on our tribe than a blessing.''


    "Ahem, mind your manners while eating." Although she tried to ignore it, she finally spoke about what bothered her.


    Sollivan regained his composure and sat up straight, beginning to eat his food politely. Most of his actions were involuntary due to the seal, but he decided to stop his chaotic thoughts and focus on what was in front of him.


    After finishing his breakfast, he went to wash up. As for hygiene, he preferred to clean himself before eating, but he was refused by the warrior assigned to watch him.


    After finishing his personal matters, he silently accompanied Beatrice and her entourage out of the leader¡¯s palace. His steps were slightly slow, and he maintained a safe distance between himself and Beatrice. But at the same time, he didn¡¯t stray too far from her so as not to appear suspicious.


    While he was thoughtfully considering a way to deal with the princess in a good manner, he heard her say, "Actually, I¡¯m certain you know everything despite your lies and feigned ignorance.


    I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re planning, but according to my father¡¯s orders, I¡¯ll play along with your lie. But keep this in mind: if you act in any way that harms my tribe or attracts trouble, I¡¯ll kill you." Although he couldn¡¯t see her expression, he felt a real sense of danger emanating from her.


    His gaze froze for a moment on her back, and he replied nonchalantly.


    "I understand your point. No need to worry, I¡¯m really a harmless person." His tone carried a hint of mockery.


    "Hmm." Beatrice turned and stared at him with sharp eyes, making his body flinch for a moment and stop in place. In a calm voice devoid of hostility¡ªor rather, any clear emotions¡ªshe ordered him. "Come closer and walk beside me. This is an educational tour, and you staying behind is really annoying."


    Sollivan nodded and strictly followed her orders, quickening his steps and walking beside her, maintaining half a meter as a safe distance. Although their steps were equal, he didn¡¯t look at her, or more precisely, he avoided looking in her direction, keeping his attention carefully on his left side.


    He looked at the strange tents in the alleys around him and analyzed their shape and the materials they were made of.


    When he finished, he looked at the passersby walking beside them, examining their clothes and physical build, trying to estimate their average age. ''Most of the passersby are elderly or children. It seems the youth and middle-aged are too busy to wander around aimlessly.''


    When he saw the passersby more clearly, he noticed that their looks at him seemed ambiguous and very strange. ''There¡¯s no hostility, and at the same time, there are no questions about my identity. Did the leader come up with some explanation for my presence and spread it to the public?''


    ''I would¡¯ve done the same if I were in his place. The lack of answers would produce unwanted thoughts.''


    While he was thinking silently, he caught sight of a very strange building¡¯s roof. Although it was far from him and located in a different alley, its large size and strange wooden dome made it stand out among the tents.


    And because of his observation, he felt a bit of curiosity. He turned to look at Beatrice and asked her politely while pointing at the building, "What¡¯s that building? It seems different from the rest."


    Beatrice followed his finger to land her gaze on the domed roof. At that moment, she showed a strange expression.


    "That¡¯s the House of Secrets, where the Wise Woman and the Blood Servants live." She showed a mysterious smile and mocked. "Don¡¯t tell me you don¡¯t know anything about the Wise Woman and the House of Secrets. That would be an obvious lie."


    The questions stuck in Sollivan¡¯s throat. He shook his head and said.


    "I was just asking." He smiled with difficulty and tried to maintain his normal demeanor.


    Both of them continued walking in silence for several minutes, passing through several alleys until they reached the edge of the tribe.


    Only one alley separated them from the surrounding plains. Both of them stood in front of a very large tent that looked like a group of small tents with domed roofs merged into a very large tent in the center. From afar, Sollivan found it similar to circus tents where performances were held in his world, but upon closer inspection, it was very different.


    "Let¡¯s go in." Beatrice gestured for him to follow her. After passing through the large tent¡¯s entrance, he found himself in a very large hall filled with women and strange tools, along with large piles of hides.


    Some of the hides were fresh and emitted a strong, unpleasant smell, while the old hides that had been painted and treated were gathered in separate piles.


    Achoo!


    Suddenly, Sollivan jerked his head back and sneezed loudly due to the strong smell he had inhaled.


    Achoo!


    He sneezed three times before stopping. He rubbed his nose and lifted his head, which had lowered from the force of the sneezes, and looked around to find many women looking at him mockingly. Even Beatrice herself smiled with pity before saying.


    "You¡¯re unreasonably weak. That¡¯s why humans are a race not worth paying attention to."


    He wiped his nose and mocked internally. ''I don¡¯t think you¡¯d be able to say that if you saw the Arcane Lords from my world.''


    Beatrice didn¡¯t continue to bother him and began explaining.


    "As you can see, this is the tribe¡¯s tailoring workshop. In this large, divided tent, most of the skilled women specializing in sewing and hides gather to make clothes and furnishings, not to mention construction hides."


    Sollivan looked around and inspected every corner of the large hall suspiciously, but he found it different from Beatrice¡¯s description. The women in the hall were only isolating and cutting the hides.


    Beatrice noticed this and answered his unasked questions. "This is the first hall. The place consists of four large tents in total, connected to each other, along with a large central area dedicated to dyeing hides."


    "Follow me."


    Both of them walked through the place filled with hides and large-bodied women, eventually reaching a large open door leading to a second large hall, similar to the first, also filled with women.


    Most of the women sat on the ground, holding large sewing tools and sewing and shaping the hides according to their needs.


    Sollivan noticed their unrefined manual work with curiosity. The hides they were dealing with weren¡¯t ordinary; they were thick and hard as rock.


    Seeing how simply they handled it made him understand the strength of their hands holding the needles. At that moment, he realized how truly weak he was and sighed in dissatisfaction.


    ''They¡¯re all monsters.''


    But despite that, he didn¡¯t think much about it and continued to observe what they were working on.


    ''The warriors¡¯ clothes are sewn by elderly women, while the ordinary clothes made of wool lined with ordinary hides are sewn by young girls. The division is clear, and I don¡¯t know if it¡¯s due to experience or strength.'' Most of the commoners¡¯ clothes consisted of a single piece, usually a simple dress or robe covering most of the body.


    He had seen this clearly while wandering around the tribe and realized it was due to the plains¡¯ moderate climate, so they didn¡¯t change their clothes much.


    After passing through the sewing hall, they reached the hide dyeing area, filled with colored basins. After a brief explanation, they moved directly to the next hall, then the one after that, quickly ending their tour. After Sollivan finally exited the cluster of tents, he took a breath of fresh air to expel the bad smell of hides and asked Beatrice curiously.


    "Why are all those clothes and hides stored? The quantity there is more than the tribe needs. The last tent was a storage area filled to the brim." This made Sollivan feel puzzled.


    Beatrice walked calmly westward and answered. "The surplus products are exchanged for other goods with subordinate tribes or allied tribes." Her answer was simple, but at the same time, it made Sollivan realize some things.


    ''There¡¯s a system of subordination among the tribes.'' Although the words he picked up were few, they fueled his curiosity and desire for knowledge. However, he didn¡¯t ask due to the lack of tact.


    He continued walking with Beatrice and noticed that they were getting closer to the huge wall. After some time, they reached a large empty space, or rather, a very large pen filled with hundreds of the strange animals he had seen before.


    Around the large pen surrounded by a simple fence, several young men holding thin sticks and wearing leather hats to protect their heads from the sun were present. Immediately, Sollivan recognized them as herders.


    He quickly scanned his surroundings and looked at the high wall nearby. At that moment, he noticed several very small gates designated for the animals to exit. But what caught his attention was several large rocks the size of the gates placed beside them. Politely, he asked. "Do you use those stones to lock the gates in case of an external invasion?"


    Beatrice¡¯s eyes widened slightly in surprise, and she answered.


    "Yes, although the gates are made of reinforced metal and have three layers, they¡¯re not enough for defense." After finishing her explanation, she mocked. "You¡¯re a bit clever. It seems you¡¯re not entirely useless."


    Sollivan didn¡¯t pay attention to her mockery and continued to inspect his surroundings carefully. At that moment, he heard Beatrice say to one of the herders. "Bring out the livestock."


    Following her orders, all the herders began directing the herds of livestock outside. Dust flew due to the footsteps of thousands of hooves, and after the assigned warriors opened the multiple gates, the livestock quickly exited into the plains filled with nourishing plants.


    "Let¡¯s go outside." Beatrice gestured to the warriors around her and walked slowly outside while explaining. "As you¡¯ve seen, the tribe¡¯s main food source is meat. You might not know this, but the land in the vast plains isn¡¯t suitable for farming, and only blue grass and some mutated trees grow here, with other plants rarely found."


    Sollivan was surprised by this and stopped observing the livestock, directing all his focus to her and asking. "Really? What¡¯s the reason?"


    Beatrice answered indifferently. "No one knows. Although the ancestors brought various types of seeds and tried to reclaim the land, they failed. Even after trying every possible method, they got no results." Beatrice paused for a moment before saying.


    "There are some arable lands, but they¡¯re very few and controlled by some powerful tribes."


    When they reached one of the small gates, Beatrice fell silent, giving him a chance to think and stare at the vast plain before him, scrutinizing it carefully. "The eternal blueness." Perhaps this momentary thought expressed his feeling upon seeing the endless plain filled with similar blue plants.


    Inhale!


    After taking a long breath, he refocused on Beatrice and asked while they walked slowly, "Even if the livestock you raise are numerous, it doesn¡¯t seem enough to feed the entire tribe."


    "These aren¡¯t all the livestock we have. We raise buffaloes in pens on the other side, and some residents have their own animals. Still, we have to conduct large hunting expeditions every month to ease the pressure on local production."


    "I underst..." Sollivan stopped mid-sentence due to a strange feeling he suddenly felt. He turned his head warily and looked around. ''This ominous sense of danger feels familiar.'' He thought silently, and after recalling his memories a bit, he remembered the source of the familiarity. ''It¡¯s the same feeling I had when facing that beast.''


    "What¡¯s wrong?" Beatrice noticed the sudden change in him, making her stand firmly and look at him warily. The warriors around them did the same.


    "Nothing, it¡¯s just..." Sollivan wanted to calm them, but his sense of danger rose to a crazy level. Before he realized what was happening, he felt a strong rush and impact on his back. But he didn¡¯t fall to the ground because of it; instead, he was lifted high into the air.


    In shock, he saw Beatrice below him on the ground before she quickly disappeared from his sight.


    The strong coldness brushed his face and made his hair fly. By the time he realized he was flying in the sky, he had already traveled a great distance. He turned his head and looked at the huge claws gripping his shoulders tightly. His face turned pale, and he felt extreme terror. His eyes widened, and he quickly lifted his head to look at the huge eagle holding him.


    ¡­


    [On the ground]


    Beatrice looked at the huge eagle that quickly flew away from them with eyes filled with shock, mockery, and deep fear.


    Before she could sort out the chaos inside her, she saw a humanoid shadow emerge from the ground and run at a crazy speed, leaving a misty trail in the direction the eagle had flown.


    Her eyes continued to stare at the empty horizon, and the shock refused to leave her. She hadn¡¯t expected to see something as ridiculous as this, or rather, how could the Primordial Blood that grants its bearer incredible power be wasted so easily?


    Her eyes sparkled with deep mockery, and she muttered with sorrow and at the same time relief. "How can a man carrying the ancestors¡¯ power be kidnapped so easily?"


    Her emotions danced silently, and in the end, she turned slowly and looked at the warrior Mina beside her. In a voice trembling with fear, she ordered, "Go quickly and inform my father." She regained some of her composure and exhaled deeply.


    "The consequences won¡¯t be simple. I¡¯ll be held responsible for this matter."

 Chapter 17: A Deal of Exchange

    Inside the leader¡¯s palace, the Supreme Leader sat on his simple throne, resting his elbow on the armrest and holding his forehead with his hand, hiding his eyes filled with confusion and loss. Before him stood Blear, Beatrice, and Fredrick in silence and tension.


    Their faces were marked with urgency, and it seemed as though Blear was barely holding back the words in his throat, his eyes darting rapidly between his father, lost in thought, and the door of the hall.


    He wanted to run at full speed, gather his best warriors, and chase the eagle to retrieve Sollivan. Unable to contain himself, he tapped his foot on the ground, producing a faint clicking sound that echoed through the vast hall due to the silence.


    With each click, Beatrice¡¯s expression grew more irritated, and after a short while, she could no longer bear it. She hit his thigh with her hand, and when his attention turned to her, she said to him in a low voice tinged with anger, "Stop that, you¡¯re annoying me."


    Blear was annoyed by her words, but he didn¡¯t respond and calmed himself. His foot stopped tapping, and his posture became more upright.


    Silence once again filled the vast hall, and after a short while, the Supreme Leader exhaled deeply. He lifted his head and lowered his hand, revealing his face clearly, which looked different than usual.


    The red scales on his face were more prominent, extending to cover his cheeks and the lower part of his chin, forming a strange scaly mask. His horns had grown longer and sharper, and even his teeth appeared pointed and slightly beastly.


    Seeing the leader¡¯s angry face, everyone involuntarily swallowed their saliva, and even Beatrice trembled deeply, looking at the ground with profound fear.


    But the leader¡¯s anger didn¡¯t last long, as his face returned to normal within a short time, and his aura became more composed. However, Beatrice didn¡¯t stop trembling.


    The Supreme Leader stared at everyone sternly before speaking in a heavy voice.


    "We can¡¯t do anything." He shook his head slowly and sighed.


    "What irony."


    However, his calm words didn¡¯t ease the urgency Blear felt, and hesitantly, he replied, "But Father, why have you given up so quickly?" He paused for a moment, then raised his fist.


    "Let me handle this, and I promise I¡¯ll bring the hybrid back in no time." Despite his loud and strong voice, he maintained the respectful tone he always used.


    The leader¡¯s gaze lingered on him for a moment before he lifted his head and looked in the direction the eagle had flown, as if he could see it. He remained silent for a short while before mocking.


    "A warrior must have strong pride, but at the same time, he must know when to retreat." He lowered his head and looked at Blear again, his face devoid of emotion, and continued.


    "The beast that took the hybrid isn¡¯t an ordinary flying beast, but a scout eagle."


    "Huh?" Blear and Fredrick gasped involuntarily and trembled with fear. As for Beatrice, she lowered her head further and looked at the ground with a dazed expression. She understood the weight of these words more than anyone else.


    The leader noticed the guilt in her reaction, but he didn¡¯t address her and continued explaining.


    "Even if we were able to kill the eagle and retrieve the hybrid, do you think our warriors are ready to fight the Beast Eagle Clan for the sake of an outsider?


    And suppose we confront it and don¡¯t kill it, do you think it won¡¯t leak the truth about the hybrid to the rest of the plains¡¯ tribes? Then disasters will rain down on us from all directions, and if we survive and aren¡¯t completely wiped out, we won¡¯t be able to hold our heads high again. Worse, we might become a subordinate tribe and lose our name."


    Every word that came out of the leader¡¯s mouth made Blear lower his head in fear. The thoughts of resistance and attack that had been in his mind disappeared completely, leaving only deep self-mockery and a profound sense of helplessness.


    After a long silence, he thought deeply about how trivial his ideas and impulsiveness were, and for the first time in a long while, he realized how inexperienced he was.


    As for Beatrice, she didn¡¯t dare to lift her head the entire time until she heard the leader say, "Everyone, leave." She turned and took a step forward, and then she heard him call her.


    "Beatrice, stay." She turned and faced her father with her head bowed and her eyes fixed on the ground.


    Sigh!


    As soon as Blear and Fredrick left, the leader sighed audibly. "You¡¯ve truly disappointed me. Is this what I taught you? Lift your head and look at me."


    Beatrice hesitantly and fearfully lifted her head and looked at her father¡¯s face. But contrary to expectations, she wasn¡¯t met with an angry expression, but rather a slightly indifferent look tinged with disappointment. She opened her mouth, wanting to speak, but she couldn¡¯t find any excuse to defend herself.


    The leader saw her hesitation and said in a cold tone, "Has the cat got your tongue? Speak your mind. Are you relieved now that you don¡¯t have to marry the hybrid?" The leader looked into her guilt-filled eyes and continued.


    "Hmph, my upbringing wasn¡¯t enough. Go now, but keep in mind that you¡¯ll face the consequences of your negligence."


    Without any ability to respond, she bowed her head and left the hall with a heavy back and chaotic thoughts. For her, her father¡¯s words weren¡¯t just a parental lecture meant to scare her, but strict orders that would make her life harder from now on.


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    After leaving the leader¡¯s palace, she lifted her head and looked in a certain direction of the vast sky, sighing with sorrow. "This is your fault. Why are you so weak?" Despite her grumbling, she couldn¡¯t bring herself to hate Sollivan any more and felt a deep guilt toward him.


    ¡­


    Somewhere in the Plains


    "Damn it!" Sollivan looked at the distant blue ground below with a terrified face and a tense body.


    He was more afraid of falling than the eagle holding him, and because of that, he involuntarily grabbed the eagle¡¯s legs to steady himself and feel a bit of security. But as soon as he remembered his situation, his body tensed up even more.


    He tried to think of a solution to his predicament, but his mind failed to come up with anything, or even think properly. Once again, for the third time since coming to this world, he found himself trapped, unable to do anything. Even Noctis, whom he could rely on, had disappeared and was no longer by his side.


    After a short while of being lost, he regained some composure. He lifted his head again and looked at the body of the eagle holding him, and despite the poor angle, he managed to see some strange details.


    "Armor?" His eyebrows arched in surprise. On the chest of the giant gray eagle with a white head, there was a very strange white armor. He couldn¡¯t discern the material it was made of or how it was made, but he was sure of one thing: it was indeed armor and not a physical trait.


    Seeing such an advanced element on the body of a beast like this, he felt a strange astonishment that lessened his fear. He swallowed his saliva hesitantly, then opened his mouth and shouted.


    "Your Majesty, the Eagle, could you please put me down? I don¡¯t know your purpose in capturing a weak and lowly person like me. And if you want to eat me, I¡¯m just skin and bones; my flesh won¡¯t satisfy you.


    Just wait, if you put me down, I promise to bring you a hearty meal of strong warriors¡¯ meat." His words were just random nonsense he blurted out involuntarily out of fear. Yet, it seemed as though the eagle responded to his words.


    After a brief moment of stillness, the eagle looked at him with sharp golden eyes that made him feel a faint sting, and in a deep, mysterious voice, it said to him, "Shut up, boy. Who would want to eat trash like you?"


    "Huh?" Sollivan opened his mouth in shock, and all the nonsense he had been thinking of saying disappeared from his mind, leaving only astonishment. After a while, his shock turned into a bit of joy. ''It¡¯s a very intelligent beast.''


    His happiness lasted for a few seconds before disappearing. At first, he thought of negotiating with the eagle and finding suitable terms for his release, but he shook his head and dismissed the idea.


    ''If it doesn¡¯t want to eat me, why did it capture me then?'' His thoughts became mixed, and the feeling of helplessness returned to him. He took a quick glance at the ground below and trembled with fear when he thought of the possibility of falling again.


    Time passed quickly, and after flying dozens of miles, he felt the wind hitting his face become gentler, turning into a soft breeze that caressed his face and played with his hair lightly.


    If he weren¡¯t in a life-threatening situation, he would have found it quite enjoyable. But he felt intense tension when he realized the possibility of them reaching the eagle¡¯s nest or whatever its mysterious destination was.


    His heart began to beat strongly, and he felt as though he might die from the shock alone. His thoughts raced as he watched the vast ground below, searching for any landmark indicating their destination, and suddenly his eyes landed on a lone tree under whose shade stood a mysterious man dressed in black clothes that covered his entire body from head to toe.


    Flap!


    Whoosh!


    The eagle spread its wings to their full extent and made a quick turn in place, as if avoiding an invisible attack. Its movement was very fast and erratic, turning the calm Sollivan into chaos in an instant.


    His stomach churned, and he felt intense nausea, barely managing to hold back his vomit in his throat. However, his eyes didn¡¯t leave the person near the tree, as he felt a strong familiarity with him. He thought quickly and recalled the images of everyone he had met, finally remembering someone he deeply hated.


    "The High Priest?" Out of sheer surprise, he said the words aloud, drawing the eagle¡¯s attention to him for a moment. Quickly, the eagle made a large circle around the tree, combing through their surroundings and ensuring their safety. Then, it slowed down and began to descend to the ground slowly, maintaining full focus.


    Whoosh!


    The eagle¡¯s descent wasn¡¯t quiet, as every flap of its massive wings sent a strong wave of air that played with the grass on the ground and made Otieno¡¯s clothes dance wildly in all directions.


    However, Otieno remained calm, standing firmly and straight, with his hands behind his back. Unlike usual, he exuded immense strength and composure, making Sollivan look at him differently.


    All the previous traits he had seen in him had disappeared. His back was no longer hunched, and his aura was no longer gentle and full of cunning. Everything about him now radiated strength, much like the Supreme Leader.


    Automatically, Sollivan thought, ''A cunning wolf. I was sure he was hiding his claws in the leader¡¯s presence, and now he¡¯s pretending to be strong.'' He cursed silently, and at the same time, lamented his bad luck.


    Although his eyes remained fixed on the priest, he didn¡¯t neglect his own condition. As soon as he felt his feet touch the ground, he felt a bit of relief, followed by a great sense of freedom, which surprised him slightly. He lifted his head and looked at the eagle above him with curiosity, as it had released him, leaving him free, and landed beside him.


    Run!


    Without saying anything or thinking about anything, he ran at full speed in a random direction. Despite knowing that his action was futile, he decided to try to escape anyway.


    However, the eagle didn¡¯t pay attention to him and continued to stare at Otieno¡¯s indifferent eyes. In its powerful voice, it said in a penetrating tone.


    "What you want is in your hands, so give me what I want." The sharp and mysterious eyes met, creating an intense aura of tension around them, as if the place could turn to ruin at any moment.


    The atmosphere remained silent for several seconds, during which Sollivan ran a great distance without looking back even once. Suddenly, Otieno turned and looked at him indifferently. "Come back here."


    Sollivan, who had been running desperately, stopped in his tracks involuntarily, but the momentum of his movement didn¡¯t disappear, causing him to slide on the grassy ground, leaving a trail of plowed earth and crushed grass.


    Without any resistance, he turned calmly and walked toward the lone tree. Although the situation was surprising and frightening, he didn¡¯t feel any fear or anxiety; on the contrary, he was very calm and indifferent. He looked at the Kornavar and the giant bird under the tree with empty eyes. ''The priest has control over me. I expected this, but it¡¯s good that I confirmed it before doing anything rash.''


    Sigh!


    A great disappointment appeared on his face, and at the same time, he felt deep discomfort and hatred toward the High Priest. During the short time he spent walking, he thought about all the options he had, or rather, the only option he had that could end his problems. Despite his hesitation and great doubts about it, he ultimately surrendered to the harsh reality. He bowed his back in sorrow and grumbled.


    ''Why am I always cornered like this? The problem is that I haven¡¯t gained anything.'' His sadness lasted for a while before his mind returned to clarity. He no longer felt any terror or fear, and all that consumed him now was a great desire for revenge.


    After reaching the tree, he stood quietly and stared at the eagle for a moment. After landing on the ground, its form became very clear. Although he had seen a large part of it before, he still couldn¡¯t suppress his surprise.


    The eagle had a bright white head, smooth and very soft, with powerful golden eyes that saw everything, and a sharp golden beak. It also had long, thin, colorful feathers extending from the sides of its head where human ears would be. Those delicate feathers looked like beautiful decorations that gave the eagle a more majestic appearance.


    As for the rest of its body, it was a grayish-black color, except for its yellow feet, which had small feathers covering a large part of them.


    But the strangest thing about it was the white armor it wore. Upon closer inspection, Sollivan confirmed that it wasn¡¯t made of metal but appeared to be hundreds of small bone rods fused together in a strange way. Its armor extended from its chest to cover its back and a large part of its wings, forming a strong layer of protection in several sensitive areas.


    Sollivan fixed his gaze on the eagle for several seconds, and when he wanted to look at Otieno, he stopped and arched his eyebrows in surprise. Starting from the eagle¡¯s chest, the color of the armor began to change, turning to a dark black, and even the eagle¡¯s white head became grayish. A large blood-red symbol resembling a feather appeared on it, and its beautiful decorations were cut in half, leaving only the lower part.


    ''An illusion.'' Sollivan thought in amazement at the sudden change that had occurred. But he noticed that the eagle¡¯s expression hadn¡¯t changed, while Otieno flinched for a moment. "Time¡¯s up, then, but it doesn¡¯t matter. I¡¯ve managed to deceive the foolish leader."


    Sollivan didn¡¯t understand what he meant, but deep suspicions began to arise in him about what was happening before him.


    The eagle didn¡¯t respond, and all it did was look at Otieno with its sharp eyes.


    "Give me what I want, enough of your chatter."


    "Hmph." Otieno exhaled in dissatisfaction, but he reached into his robe and pulled out a small bag, handing it to the eagle.


    ''Hmm, a trade deal.'' Since he wasn¡¯t afraid of the coming consequences, he no longer hid his curiosity and watched everything with enjoyment. ''But how will the giant eagle take this bag?'' Without waiting long, he saw the eagle extend its wing, and with its tip, it smoothly grabbed the bag.


    Then, it extended its other wing and moved some of its feathers smoothly like fingers, opening the bag to see its contents, which were a collection of small red glass beads. Even through its stern face, it seemed to Sollivan as though the eagle smiled.


    The eagle closed the small bag and placed it between its armor and chest, where it disappeared among the large feathers and was no longer visible.


    The eagle turned calmly and looked at Sollivan, who had been silently observing them, then said strangely, "Huh, who would have thought someone like this exists in the vast plains? Be careful, Kornavar, your actions might bring calamities to our lands."


    "Hmph." Otieno snorted with a bit of anger.


    "If you keep what you¡¯ve seen to yourself, no living being will know of his existence."


    "Huh." The giant eagle was annoyed by the priest¡¯s response, then flapped its massive wings, creating a wave of air that irritated Sollivan¡¯s eyes. As it flew high, it said in an indifferent tone, "A deal is a deal, and I saw nothing." It paused for a moment before adding.


    "But be careful." Then it flapped powerfully and flew away, disappearing within moments.

 Chapter 18: The Priest Otienos Plan

    Sollivan looked up at the cloudless sky before shifting his focus to Otieno beside him. After a few moments of silence, the priest coldly ordered, "Follow me."


    Due to the well''s seal in his body, Sollivan had no choice but to comply. To avoid any unwanted pain, he reluctantly followed. Unlike usual, he showed no obedience or respect. His steps were heavy, and his gaze was filled with hatred and anger, revealing to the priest the depth of his loathing.


    Even after Otieno noticed the burning intensity of Sollivan''s glare, he paid no attention and continued walking with an unreadable expression, carefully hidden. But as time passed, he began to find it difficult to tolerate, and when his patience ran out, he coldly commanded, "Lower your wretched head. If you keep staring at me, I¡¯ll gouge out your eyes."


    "Really?" Sollivan replied, quickly lowering his head, but soon sarcasm crept into his tone, and he added, "You¡¯re so funny, you know that? Or rather, how should I describe you? You¡¯re simple-minded and utterly dull¡­"


    As Sollivan expressed his thoughts, Otieno interrupted him, saying, "Don¡¯t trouble yourself."


    "Your annoying words and condescending tone won¡¯t make a difference, you know. If you¡¯re waiting for that coward Caldwell to come save you, you¡¯re delusional. Someone like him wouldn¡¯t risk the lives of his followers or the stability of his tribe for you. And even if he were brave enough, he wouldn¡¯t dare oppose the Beast Eagle Clan."


    ''Caldwell, so that¡¯s the name of the foolish leader.'' Sollivan listened silently to the priest¡¯s words, and when he finished speaking, Sollivan smirked.


    At that moment, he wished he could lift his head to look down on Otieno, but since he couldn¡¯t, he laughed loudly for a short while before barely restraining himself, then said mockingly, "I said earlier that you¡¯re simple-minded, but I was wrong. You¡¯re truly an idiot! I wonder how a fool like you became the High Priest." He paused briefly, then added, "Oh, I forgot! Priests are a bunch of fools, so it makes sense that the biggest trash would be their leader."


    Despite the crudeness of his words, Otieno didn¡¯t interrupt him and continued listening in silence until he finished. Then Otieno stopped walking and turned to face him with a gaze so sharp it could burn.


    The sarcasm disappeared from Sollivan¡¯s face, and his seriousness returned. His muscles tensed, and he braced himself for a physical blow, but what happened was the opposite of what he expected. He heard Otieno say in a voice filled with disdain, "Listen to me, you wretched hybrid. Your ability to breathe right now is my mercy. So I advise you not to push me to skin you alive before I transfer your blood."


    "So, shut up. Close your mouth and don¡¯t utter a word. Understood?"


    Despite the seriousness of his threats, Sollivan paid no attention to what he said. A particular word echoed in his mind as he thought: ''Transfer my blood? Does he want to steal my blood and transfer it to himself or some container? That greedy bastard.'' He unleashed a string of curses in his mind, then looked at the ground with eyes filled with intense anger. But he quickly calmed down and began reviewing his memories, recalling that the priest was the only one who had acted strangely whenever he saw him.


    ''But, as I recall, in the book Fredrick gave me, it was said that the purity of blood can only change in extremely rare cases. And nothing was mentioned about transferring blood from one body to another. Is it some kind of forbidden ritual?'' He narrowed his eyes in understanding: ''This explains why the eagle was tasked with kidnapping me and why he chose such a remote meeting place, to remove all suspicion from himself and pin it on the Beast Eagle Clan he mentioned.''


    Although he thought about many things, in reality, only a minute had passed, during which they had walked only a few meters. However, Sollivan was able to determine their destination. ''Are we heading in the same direction as the tribe?'' After walking further and covering more distance, he confirmed his hypothesis, but he was no longer interested in that. He now knew the fate that awaited him, and if he weren¡¯t certain of his ability to escape this deadly situation, he would be trembling with fear by now.


    The hours passed quietly, and after traveling a great distance, the two of them arrived at a spot filled with trees, which was somewhat rare given the nature of the empty plains. Otieno quickened his pace and ordered Sollivan to keep up, and within moments, they stood before a massive tree with an extremely thick trunk covered in sharp branches.


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    Having regained some freedom of movement, Sollivan scanned his surroundings curiously before focusing on the priest, who stood strangely still in front of the tree. After seeing him frozen in place for a few moments, Otieno moved oddly and began forming some mysterious hand seals while muttering incomprehensible words that echoed around them despite the lack of walls.


    Knock!


    Creak!


    Scrape!


    Suddenly, a loud knocking sound came from the tree, followed by a high-pitched creak. Sollivan was slightly surprised and focused on the tree, only to be even more astonished when he saw it move from its place, emitting an annoying scraping sound. He looked closely at the spot where the tree had been and found a massive circular hole the size of the trunk. Upon closer inspection, he realized it was a dark spiral staircase leading deep into the cold earth.


    "Go down."


    Before his surprise could fade, Sollivan heard the priest¡¯s cold command, and obediently, he walked toward the stairs and hesitated for a moment. He looked at the small, sharp-edged steps and thought about how bad it would be to fall on them. He took a breath of fresh air and placed his foot on the first step, which was smaller than his foot, leaving his toes dangling over the edge. Carefully, he began descending the slippery, dark staircase.


    Knock!


    Creak!


    The familiar knocking sound came from above again, and instinctively, he turned to look at the entrance, which began to shrink until it disappeared. With that, the only source of light illuminating his path was gone. At that moment, he complained loudly, "Man, it¡¯s dark down here. Light us up." Despite his dire situation, he spoke in a friendly tone, as if talking to an old friend rather than the villain who had kidnapped him.


    Despite the darkness, he felt the priest¡¯s strange gaze on him before hearing a loud snap of fingers, followed by the ignition of several small glowing stones embedded in the wall. When his vision returned to clarity, their eyes met, and without hesitation, Sollivan turned and continued descending deeper into the earth. After descending a great depth, he reached an underground tunnel built of stone, illuminated by scattered glowing stones. The passage was ancient and filled with mold and fungal growths thriving due to water seepage in the walls.


    Even insects he hadn¡¯t seen since coming to this world filled the place in abundance: small spiders, scale insects, and other species. He even saw some strange moths the size of a palm. Additionally, due to the age of the place, many of the stones in the ceiling were extinguished, and some barely glowed, adding to the tunnel¡¯s eeriness.


    "Keep walking."


    He walked slowly through the long, cold tunnel, which made his body shiver slightly. Even after an hour of walking, he saw no clear end to the passage. "Hmm." Suddenly, he turned his head and looked in a specific direction on the ceiling.


    A look of curiosity and suspicion appeared, and in a moment, it turned to surprise and a bit of happiness. ''Noctis.'' Earlier, when the eagle had taken him and flown away, it had moved far from the shadow, weakening the bond between them. Because of this, Sollivan could no longer sense its location or even the direction it was in. But now, he had regained that connection, faintly sensing Noctis¡¯s presence, and it seemed Noctis had sensed him too, as it began approaching his location quickly.


    ''It will get here soon, but I don¡¯t know if it can break through the layers of soil above me.'' His thoughts suddenly went silent as he remembered his escape plan.


    Disappointment and regret appeared on his face, and after a brief moment of confusion, he sighed audibly and clearly, "Otieno, I truly hate you, and if the roles are ever reversed, I¡¯ll make you suffer the worst torment."


    "Huh." The priest stopped in his tracks and turned to look at him in astonishment. He didn¡¯t understand why Sollivan had suddenly uttered such strange words.


    However, he felt intense anger, and more than that, a vague unease. He thought silently and puzzled, ''What¡¯s wrong with him? Why is he so calm?'' Although it didn¡¯t show on his face, he began to hesitate about his decision. At first, he hadn¡¯t paid it any attention, but over time, seeing Sollivan¡¯s actions, he began to feel a slight itch in his heart telling him something was wrong.


    This small itch grew to dominate his thoughts. Several speculations crossed his mind, making him uneasy: ''Can he escape? No, that¡¯s impossible. I¡¯ve completely searched his body, and he¡¯s too weak. He has no weapons or treasures that could help him escape.


    So, what¡¯s the source of his confidence? It¡¯s impossible for anyone to help him, and even the weak abyss beast he contracted with isn¡¯t here. That bastard must be deceiving me.'' His eyes narrowed with malice, and he felt a surge of anger. He opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but he hesitated and wavered in his decision.


    ''Huh.'' Suddenly, he realized something and felt even more anger, and his hesitation disappeared, replaced by indignation that made his body seem larger than usual.


    He clenched his massive, powerful fist and launched a quick punch toward Sollivan, who stood confidently. However, he hesitated for a moment again, causing him to lessen the force of his strike.


    His fist struck Sollivan¡¯s cheek, who was too slow to react to the blow. Despite the reduced force, it was enough to shatter his face and send him flying backward ten feet before he landed on his back and rolled forcefully on the ground.


    Blood and fragments of his shattered teeth flew from his mouth and fell beside him, while his body was covered in bruises and small cuts.


    Cough!


    Ugh.


    With a body weighed down by pain and a head ringing loudly, Sollivan moved slowly, groaning from the pain in his joints, especially the sharp sting in his mouth.


    Cough!


    He made a gurgling sound like a slaughtered calf due to the blood entering his throat, and quickly adjusted his position, sitting on his knees, supporting himself with his hands to face the ground so he could vomit the debris in his mouth. He moved his jaw, which was barely intact, and looked at the blood and broken teeth on the ground beneath his feet with a hazy gaze filled with hatred. His face turned blue, and even the faint scales on his forehead became darker and more prominent.


    "Get up, you hybrid, or I¡¯ll break your legs and drag you with me." Otieno¡¯s words were filled with a deadly tone, making Sollivan tremble involuntarily and feel deep fear within himself. Even his great confidence began to fade, but the chaos inside him lasted only a few seconds before his resolve returned.

 Chapter 19: Do You Know Who I Am?

    Sollivan¡¯s gaze became clear, and despite the pain he was feeling, he stood up naturally and stretched his body indifferently before walking forward.


    Otieno stared at him with suspicion, but he didn¡¯t make any further moves. However, he didn¡¯t feel at ease and continued to think.


    After the two of them walked for another thirty minutes, the pained Sollivan noticed a massive metal door on the right side of the tunnel.


    He furrowed his eyebrows in anger and noticed that the priest¡¯s pace had slowed slightly, then stopped in front of the door and ordered him to stop as well.


    Sollivan stood silently, continuing to observe everything that was happening, directing a small portion of his attention to Noctis, who was still wandering aimlessly on the surface above them. Due to their close proximity, the bond between them had regained its usual strength, so he knew what Noctis was feeling.


    Noctis even sent him occasional waves of thoughts, informing him of what it saw and wanted. But Sollivan couldn¡¯t find any way for Noctis to enter, despite its ability to merge with shadows. It still couldn¡¯t penetrate solid objects.


    Clang!


    Creak!


    Otieno opened the massive metal door, which emitted a high-pitched creak that echoed through the area due to the rust on its hinges. After pushing the door open enough, he looked at Sollivan and ordered, "Enter."


    Powerless to resist, Sollivan walked inside to find another spiral staircase, but this time it was well-crafted, with wide and slightly cleaner steps. Even the glowing stones on the sides were brighter.


    *Bang!*


    The door slammed shut behind him, and without looking back, he began ascending the staircase, which was shorter than the previous one. Within moments, he reached another large wooden door that was slightly ajar, with strange murmuring sounds coming from behind it.


    Creak!


    Otieno pushed the old wooden door open. When he opened it, what lay inside was revealed: a slightly spacious hall with a foul stench that made Sollivan nauseous. The strange murmuring he had heard earlier became very loud and continued to echo in his head like a mysterious melody. Even after shaking his head and trying to clear his mind, he couldn¡¯t maintain his composure.


    With a disturbed expression, he quickly scanned the hall to find three people with very mysterious appearances inside, dressed in black robes that completely concealed their bodies. Even their eyes were hidden behind black cloth, making them resemble black mummies. Their attire was similar to that of priests, yet there was something off about them that made the already uneasy Sollivan even more uncomfortable.


    Clap!


    Otieno clapped his hands loudly and said in a voice filled with joy, "Enough sterilization, prepare the altar." Then he looked at Sollivan and ordered, "Go to the center of the hall."


    As soon as Sollivan stood in the center of the hall, the three priests surrounded him, making him flinch in surprise. Although they maintained a safe distance and didn¡¯t touch him, he hated the sight of them. They stood silently like statues around him for a full minute before moving simultaneously. They pulled their hands out of their long, wide sleeves and cut their wrists in perfect harmony.


    Then they pulled out their other hands and stained them with their blood, which was flowing profusely, before kneeling and painting the ground with random lines. Their movements were coordinated and harmonious, as if they were professional artists.


    Within moments, the random lines turned into mysterious shapes that caught his attention. ''A blood formation, as I expected. They¡¯re performing a demonic ritual.'' Although the idea itself was terrifying, he smiled strangely, and the look of hatred and resentment directed at Otieno returned.


    While the shapes were being drawn, Sollivan carefully examined his surroundings, discovering that the hall was filled with various objects, from books and manuscripts to monster body parts, metal ores, and piles of minted coins. He was slightly surprised, as this was the first time he had seen currency in this world. From what he had seen before, the tribes in the plains relied on bartering, with warriors receiving their wages in the form of food and resources, while the common folk mostly received food, clothing, and other basic necessities.


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    After a few minutes, the three priests finished drawing the formation and added stabilizing materials, which were strange elements Sollivan recognized some of, such as monster organs and certain ores, but most of the materials were unfamiliar to him.


    Once the priests finished stabilizing the formation, they dispersed, each heading to one of the formation¡¯s corners.


    Otieno adjusted his stance firmly and sternly ordered Sollivan, "Sit in the lotus position, and don¡¯t try anything stupid. Stay silent and still until everything is over."


    Despite the sternness of his words, Otieno seemed relaxed, and all the anxiety he had felt on the way disappeared. Because once the ritual began, no one could stop it unless he allowed it.


    Sollivan sat down reluctantly, yet he wasn¡¯t bothered and continued to watch what was happening around him with curiosity. When he saw Otieno remove his clothes, revealing his massive, muscular body covered in deformed scales¡ªor rather, large black burn marks that covered a significant portion of his body¡ªhe smirked strangely. Then Otieno removed his mask, revealing his withered features: a face full of wrinkles and sunken eyes. Despite being middle-aged, his physical condition made him look like an old man.


    As Otieno wiped his body, Sollivan smiled strangely, and if he hadn¡¯t been unable to move or speak, he would have laughed out loud and thought to himself, '' Well, would you look at that¡ªhalf a man and running a serious horn deficit. Tragic, really.'' Otieno¡¯s horns were cut off, and all that remained on his forehead were two small red bumps.


    Although Sollivan hadn¡¯t heard this directly, he had noticed how important horns were to the men of the tribe. Their tribe itself was called the "Red Horns." How would they view someone without horns?


    ''That¡¯s why he hides his face.''


    Sollivan focused on the priest and watched him closely as Otieno sat on the ground in the central circle opposite him and said sternly, "Begin."


    Following his orders, the priests began chanting strange incantations and pouring their blood into the formation, causing an outer circle to form and move strangely, as if it were a circulatory system. The solid elements of the formation began to melt and mix with the blood flow in a bizarre manner.


    Within moments, the entire area was enveloped by an invisible force that tightened its grip on everyone, especially Sollivan. At that moment, he felt the well¡¯s seal in his chest weaken, allowing him to regain a bit of his freedom. ''When two opposing forces meet, one gives way.'' He thought aimlessly before hearing Otieno¡¯s voice again, who began chanting words even more mysterious than those uttered by the priests around them.


    The intensity of the invisible force surrounding them increased, tightening its grip on Sollivan. Strangely, he felt his blood stirring to its limits, and warmth spread through his body. Without understanding how, his wrists were cut, and blood began to pour profusely from his body. The same thing happened to the priest in front of him. As soon as the blood touched the formation, a small structure began to form in the center of the larger formation, also resembling a miniature circulatory system, through which the blood mixed in a strange way.


    The dark blue blood mixed with Otieno¡¯s ordinary red blood, and the blood began to circulate around them, entering their bodies through the left wrist, flowing inside them, and then exiting through the right wrist before moving to the opposite end to repeat the same process.


    Sollivan watched everything in amazement. Despite the immense pain and chaos he felt inside, his face remained steady. Suddenly, he noticed something strange. The blue blood was purifying the red blood, making it more transparent and increasing its quality.


    Meanwhile, his blue blood began to darken. When he understood what was happening, his eyes narrowed. ''He¡¯s purifying his blood at the expense of mine. What a bastard.'' He shook his head slightly, then looked at the stone ceiling above him, where he sensed Noctis¡¯s presence. At that moment, he made up his mind and looked into Otieno¡¯s eyes, which were filled with joy and eagerness, and said, "Do you know who I am, Your Excellency?"


    "Huh..." Otieno laughed happily, indifferent, and continued to look at the blood around them. Then he said mockingly, "Now you decide to reveal your identity? Hahaha, whatever you are, I don¡¯t care. But there¡¯s no need for that. You can¡¯t stop the transfer. Stay silent and accept your fate. You won¡¯t suffer much."


    "Oh, really?" Sollivan smiled calmly, making Otieno frown slightly and look at him strangely. But as soon as he remembered the nature of the formation around them, his doubts vanished. He asked mockingly, "So, who are you?"


    Sollivan made a pained face, while smiling a savage smile due to his broken teeth, which conveyed deep sorrow, as if he were whispering the deepest secrets of the universe. He answered, "I¡¯m your mother''s lover, you bastard."


    Then he burst into loud laughter, trying with all his mental strength to move his immobilized hand. Finally, his hand moved after the blue blood began to drip from his nose and eyes, seeping into his mouth and staining his insane smile. Then he pointed his middle finger at Otieno and said, "Screw you. In our next meeting, I¡¯ll kill you, you bastard." He was deeply resentful because he had been forced to do this.


    Quickly, he grabbed the key to return that was in his mind with his remaining mental strength, and within a fraction of a second, he felt something strange happening inside him. His vision became blurry, and his body began to disintegrate and turn into black smoke, starting from his raised finger.


    Otieno opened his mouth in astonishment, unable to believe what he was seeing, as Sollivan disappeared before his eyes without leaving a trace. Even the ashes that were in his place evaporated and disappeared. Due to his shock, he didn¡¯t realize that his blood, which had been circulating in the formation, had also disappeared, causing the formation to lose its cohesion and begin spinning in emptiness. The formation cracked and lost its stability due to the sudden disappearance of one of its elements. When Otieno noticed this, he quickly ordered his followers, "Stabilize the formation!"


    But it was too late. In just one second, the formation suddenly exploded with tremendous force, destroying all its elements.


    Even the three priests at the stabilization corners and Otieno were subjected to an extremely violent backlash. They were thrown from their positions by the force of the explosion. As for their blood, which had been circulating in the formation and maintaining its stability, it evaporated quickly, and this evaporation extended into their bodies, destroying their internal organs.


    One of the priests¡¯ bodies exploded, and his destroyed organs flew everywhere, staining the ceiling and walls behind him red, while the ground was contaminated with a disgusting stickiness from his flesh and thick organs.


    The other priests acted quickly and severed their blood connection, which lessened the backlash. However, they suffered many superficial and internal injuries, causing them to cough up blood profusely.


    Otieno was thrown backward, his eyes bloodshot. Thanks to his experience and composure, he was the first to act, directing all the backlash toward the stabilization corners, which lessened the impact of the explosion. However, he lost a lot of blood, and despite his stability, he couldn¡¯t stop the blood from leaking from his nostrils and ears.


    He continued to stare at the spot where Sollivan had been, his eyes almost bursting with anger. Then he roared in fury, "I¡¯ll kill you!"

 Chapter 20: Returning Home

    The cold winter air, heavy with frozen moisture, seeped through the cracks of the dilapidated house, which seemed darker than usual. The warmth of the small heater had vanished, leaving behind only hardened ash, indicating that the place had been devoid of human activity for several days. Even the few potatoes inside the cracked supply box had begun to rot or sprout small roots.


    In the corner of the room, on a desk cluttered with crumpled papers, sat a pale-skinned human youth. He leaned his forehead on his right hand, which rested on a white sheet of paper filled with cryptic writing, while his left hand dangled limply beneath the table. The rest of his lifeless body sat in his wheelchair, which seemed frozen in place.


    He appeared hunched over strangely, his limbs stiff and blue, his skin pale, and his breath cut off. Without a doubt, Sollivan was a lifeless corpse, devoid of any signs of life. And yet...


    "Hah..."


    "Khhh..."


    Suddenly, his chest expanded, and he lifted his head, taking a long, deep breath. Due to the dryness of his throat and mouth, devoid of even a drop of moisture, it felt as though the cold air was laden with thousands of needles that pricked his throat, making him cough hoarsely and dryly.


    His black eyes opened wide, but despite that, his vision was blurred, and he looked around hazily, unable to make out his surroundings. His thoughts raced, and he tried to understand his situation, but his mind, frozen from the extreme cold, couldn¡¯t think clearly.


    After a few seconds of waking up, he felt an overwhelming sense of terror and disbelief. As the slow seconds passed, he began to regain some clarity in his vision and thoughts, and then he said in a voice barely audible, "Appear."


    However, nothing happened.


    "Hah..." He sighed in frustration and tried to move his frozen hands, but he couldn¡¯t. His face darkened, and his gaze dimmed. He stared blankly at the table nearby, but suddenly, his eyes lit up.


    He slowly lifted his head and looked at a specific spot beside him, where his loyal companion, Noctis, emerged from the shadows of the ground. Unlike usual, Noctis didn¡¯t stand firmly in front of him but instead took a step back, trembling with fear and panic. His body contorted strangely, as if he couldn¡¯t maintain his human form.


    A dry smile appeared on Sollivan¡¯s haggard face, and he ordered firmly, "Pull yourself together." His words weren¡¯t just a command for the shadow but also for himself. In response, the lost and confused Noctis turned to look into his eyes, and then he became slightly more stable.


    Sollivan raised his finger and pointed to the frozen stove: "Light the fire. Put the kindling in the stove and create a spark using the two stones." Despite the difficulty of speaking and the accompanying pain, Sollivan didn¡¯t hold back on the explanation, as he understood the importance of the task. He had little time to warm his frozen body, or he would die. At best, he might have to amputate his hands or fingers, which was worse than death for him.


    Noctis hesitated for a moment before responding, and after a few seconds of stillness, he turned his head and looked at the stove before walking over to it and placing the kindling inside.


    Then, with unsteady hands, he picked up the two stones and struck them together. His actions were very erratic, but after a few attempts, he succeeded in lighting a small flame, which grew gradually and became more intense after adding some small pieces of wood. Sollivan¡¯s eyes widened at the distant warmth, and involuntarily, he leaned forward, wanting to get closer to the stove.


    "Tsk..." He snorted in anger before looking at Noctis and ordering, "Bring me closer to the fire." This time, the shadow didn¡¯t hesitate and quickly moved to his side. However, it suddenly stopped and looked at his immobilized body in confusion, as if unable to lift him.


    The shadow wasn¡¯t physically strong enough to carry Sollivan easily. For the first time, it seemed to be thinking on its own. Its body turned into a black liquid that clung to the ground, flowing smoothly and beginning to merge with the wheelchair. The old brown wood disappeared, replaced by a shiny black that reflected the firelight.


    Sollivan was stunned by this strange development, and before he could react, his body shook slightly due to the sudden movement of the wheelchair. The wheels turned, and the chair quickly approached the fire, stopping directly in front of the stove. The beautiful warmth of the fire touched his cold skin, making him feel a pleasant relief.


    He raised his hands and moved his fingers carefully and slowly, as if roasting them leisurely. After the numbness subsided and he regained sensation, he quickly grabbed a cup of water from a clay pot beside him. After quenching his thirst, he finally breathed a sigh of relief. He leaned back in his chair and, without realizing it, fell into a deep sleep.


    ¡­


    Time passed quietly, and after several hours, Sollivan finally opened his eyes. He looked around comfortably and took a long breath, but it was hindered by his stuffy nose.


    "Khhh..."


    "I¡¯ve caught a cold." He didn¡¯t seem bothered; on the contrary, he seemed happy that the complications from his frozen body were mild. He looked at the burning stove, now filled with firewood, and noticed that the distance between them had widened slightly. A look of sudden realization appeared on his face, and he looked at his black wheelchair with deep gratitude and said, "Thank you, my friend. Without you, I¡¯d be dead now."


    His words came from the depths of his heart, but his softness didn¡¯t last long, and his sternness returned. He stared at his familiar home.


    ''How much time has passed? But that doesn¡¯t really matter.'' Then he asked cryptically, "You feel it too, don¡¯t you?" His chair shook strangely, as if saying, "Yes." At that moment, he lifted his head and looked at the sky¡ªor rather, the ceiling.


    "There are restrictions on our bodies. More precisely, there are restrictions on you and my Primordial Blood."


    The reason for Noctis¡¯s initial disorientation wasn¡¯t just the shock of the change in environment but also the sudden, mysterious pressure imposed on him. Due to their bond, Sollivan had also sensed this pressure before faintly realizing that he was being subjected to it as well. He cleared his mind of this issue because it posed no danger to him. He knew that the world could reject and restrict certain things. However, he felt a slight unease at the possibility of facing some ordeal in the future.


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    "So, the legends are true." His source of information on this matter wasn¡¯t something reliable but rather fantastical tales of strange monsters and mythical heroes. If it weren¡¯t for his sense of that pressure, he would have remained convinced that they were just myths.


    After organizing his thoughts, he began reviewing the basics. He turned and looked at the table where he had placed the book earlier, but it wasn¡¯t there. He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion and thought of something specific. He leaned back in his chair, relaxed, and closed his eyes. After clearing his mind through regular breathing, he focused all his attention on the key he had grasped when he wanted to return.


    After a minute of stillness, he opened his eyes, which had darkened even more, and smiled. "So, it¡¯s become part of my body." He raised his hand and placed it in front of his wide smile. He suppressed his laughter, yet for the first time in a long while, he felt genuine happiness and incredible joy. At the same time, a sense of relief made him forget his worries and look forward to the future again.


    Grrrr!


    His empty stomach growled loudly, snapping him out of his daydreams. He touched his stomach and found it stuck to his back from extreme emptiness. ''If I¡¯m right, I¡¯ve spent five days without any food. If I had known that my body remained entirely in this world and only my spirit had transferred, I wouldn¡¯t have hesitated to return. Dying here means dying there.''


    Without moving a muscle, he sent his thoughts to Noctis, who guided the wheelchair toward the food box. After the chair stopped, he reached out to grab a potato that was still somewhat good, but he suddenly froze in his position and narrowed his eyes. Then he leaned back and relaxed in his seat before ordering, "Return to your normal form."


    The shadow emerged from the wheelchair, which returned to its dilapidated state, and stood obediently beside him. With a faint smile, Sollivan said to him, "I¡¯ll borrow your body for a bit."


    He quickly transferred his senses to Noctis and saw everything around him covered in a faint red hue. His ears picked up the sound of heavy footsteps on the muddy, snowy ground outside. Overwhelmed with joy, Sollivan¡ªor rather, the shadow¡ªwalked to the door and opened it slightly, letting in a wave of extremely cold air laden with snowflakes. He looked at the narrow alley covered in a thin layer of snow and observed the people walking with hunched, reddened bodies due to the cold.


    Without giving it further thought, he closed the door and went to prepare a hearty meal to satisfy his hunger. But this time, he didn¡¯t hold back. He used all the good potatoes he had, generously added salt, and even some dried pepper. In the end, he made a strange porridge with a slightly sweet and spicy taste.


    He watched the mixture in the old pot as it cooked slowly. But his red vision suddenly darkened, and he opened his eyes to find his perspective and angle of vision had changed. "I¡¯m back? So, I can¡¯t stay in Noctis¡¯s body for too long." Originally, he didn¡¯t fully transfer into the shadow but only transferred his vision and hearing, controlling its movements through their bond.


    However, he didn¡¯t feel what the shadow felt. He had tested this before by placing his hand in the fire. Although he sensed Noctis¡¯s discomfort and pain through their bond, he himself felt nothing. "If I can exploit this ability well, I might be able to fight using Noctis while staying hidden."


    Noctis heard what he said and looked at him with great displeasure. At that moment, Sollivan turned and stared into his emerald eyes, reassuring him, "Don¡¯t worry, I won¡¯t do anything that hurts you too much."


    He removed his smile and took another cup of water to hydrate his body, which still needed moisture.


    After contemplating the pot for a short while, he decided to take out the black book and examine it while his food cooked. He directed his mental strength to a specific point in his mind and thought of pulling the book, and then the black book appeared out of thin air in front of him. Without hesitation, he grabbed it and placed it on his lap, then began examining it with sharp, curious eyes. However, the book seemed very ordinary, with no changes to its cover or texture. After one final inspection, he opened it to the first page. At that moment, he narrowed his eyes in confusion.


    ''The writing I saw earlier is gone?'' He quickly flipped to the next page and found it filled with writing, but without reading it, he turned to the following page, only to find it blank as well. His confusion deepened, and he frowned slightly. He quickly examined every page of the book, only to find them all blank.


    He stared at the last page in confusion for a full minute before sighing and returning to the only page with writing.


    ''The book was filled with writing earlier, but at the same time, there was something strange about it. As far as I remember, the first page was written in the language of the other world, while the rest of the pages were incomprehensible to me.


    But upon closer thought, perhaps all the writing was just an illusion, and the only important page is the first one, which points to the method of the contract.''


    He looked at the page filled with writing and shook his head: "Yes, that might explain it. Also, doesn¡¯t this mean that this writing only appeared after my return?" Thinking about this, he felt excitement and began reading quickly: "...." With every word he read, his face grew more grim. When he reached the middle of the page, he stopped his finger and wondered.


    "What is this incomprehensible nonsense? There¡¯s not a single logical word...??" He thought silently about the purpose of the writing, certain that it was something valuable and not just nonsense, but he simply hadn¡¯t grasped its meaning yet. Due to the change in his blood, his memory had greatly improved, allowing him to recall many events in detail. Because of this, a specific scene came to mind.


    The priest Otieno stood before him, placed his hand on his head, and began uttering some cryptic and mysterious words before sealing him with the well¡¯s mark. Because his ears weren¡¯t accustomed to hearing such a language and its obscurity, his memory of it was slightly blurred. However, as soon as he recalled the melody and rhythmic weight of what he had read, he felt a deep shock that quickly turned into overwhelming excitement. Quickly, he continued reading aloud, trying to confirm his hypothesis. When he finished, he lifted his head and looked around, but nothing happened.


    "Was I wrong? Or did I forget something?" He raised his hand and scratched his chin.


    "Thinking about it, isn¡¯t this a living language? If I treat it that way, things make more sense."


    Living languages were extremely difficult vocal techniques that required specific conditions to succeed. However, there were some positive aspects to these techniques, which made Sollivan, despite his anxiety, feel a bit of joy.


    Many of these languages didn¡¯t require Auraxis energy to be spoken; all the speaker had to do was adhere to their difficult rhythm and meter, along with preparing a strong medium. However, neither common people nor even Arcane Lords could speak them, as they required a strong soul and a will of steel.


    Living languages, on the surface, were vocal techniques, but at their core, they were abilities to communicate with the world. This is why they were called living languages¡ªeach one was unique, capable of making the world fulfill a condition or witness a sworn oath. This is why oaths made in living languages were sacred and could not be broken, or the world itself would punish you.


    "Still, I think this isn¡¯t the complete language, just a part of it... As I recall, they called it the well¡¯s seal. When the priest cast it, that strange pit was the medium."


    Involuntarily, he turned to look at Noctis and narrowed his eyes.


    "Could I change some of the language¡¯s words and make the medium something else?"


    Then he mocked his crazy idea and quickly dismissed it.


    ''If I¡¯m looking for death, I¡¯ll try that.''


    Boiling!


    He turned his head toward the pot, from which steam was rising densely, and smiled happily when he realized his food was ready. Everything he had done earlier was just a waste of time to distract himself from his intense hunger. He closed his eyes, trying to transfer his senses to the shadow, but he felt a strange resistance that made him open his eyes in surprise.


    "I can¡¯t do it now... Do I have to wait longer?"


    "Never mind, my chair can do it as before."


    Noctis quickly merged with the chair and guided it toward the pot. Hastily, Sollivan poured himself a large bowl, then grabbed a spoon and headed to the messy table. Due to the cold weather, he didn¡¯t wait long for the food to cool, and he began eating without any manners. His mouth moved strangely due to the heat, and after a minute, he finished his bowl. He looked at the empty plate and sighed.


    "It tastes bad."


    He drooled a little when he remembered the rich, fatty meat dishes he had eaten in the Red Horns tribe, but he didn¡¯t complain. Instead, he went to the pot and took more porridge. After eating almost everything, he leaned back in his chair and patted his stomach contentedly.


    For him, even if the food was bad, it was still a blessing that shouldn¡¯t be wasted.


    He looked at the empty plate in confusion, thought deeply, and then suddenly something occurred to him. His eyes narrowed.


    ''Could it be...?''


    Quickly, he summoned the black book and looked at it with wide eyes.


    "If the book can copy the language... couldn¡¯t it act as a medium?!"


    His question contained shock, along with anticipation and indescribable excitement.


    Without hesitation, he opened the book and began reading the words slowly and carefully, trying to maintain their rhythmic meter. However, he failed.


    "No... no... the pronunciation isn¡¯t right."


    After reading it a third time and reviewing his memories of how the priest had chanted, he had a clearer idea. He took a deep breath, cleared his slightly choked throat, and began chanting in a rhythmic voice that quickly turned into a mysterious, obscure muttering.


    After finishing the page, he looked around carefully, but nothing happened.


    "Is my soul¡¯s strength too weak...?"


    As soon as he said that, he felt a sharp pain in his head. He raised his hands and held his head, but his eyes remained fixed on the book, whose pages had turned completely black, as if they were rippling like a dark liquid, as dark as despair.


    From the midst of the dark pages, a thin black chain emerged and flew forward. It hovered in the air for a moment, and when it found no target to cling to, it dispersed and turned into smoke that vanished in all directions.


    The book¡¯s pages returned to normal, and then it disappeared from its place. As for Sollivan, he froze in his position, staring blankly at the emptiness in front of him. His body was drenched in sweat as if he were under a grill, and suddenly, a line of blue blood trickled from his nose and stained his clothes.


    His confusion lasted a long time before he returned to his senses. He raised his hand and wiped his nose, then looked at the blood.


    "As I expected... the color hasn¡¯t returned to normal."


    And without realizing it, he lost consciousness.

 Chapter 21: A Warm Dinner

    Knock!


    Knock!


    The loud, annoying knocking echoed through the silent room, reaching Sollivan¡¯s ears as he lay unconscious. His eyelids trembled slowly before he opened his foggy eyes. He shook his hand and rubbed his aching temple, muttering sarcastically, ''What a busy week.''


    Knock!


    ''What does this annoying warrior want now?'' He wanted to stand and head to the door, but he stumbled due to his lifeless legs. It was then that clarity returned, and he remembered he was back in his own world.


    His thoughts raced as he recalled his long absence. The neighbors must have noticed something was wrong. Quickly, he ordered Noctis to wheel him to the door. As soon as he reached it, he grabbed the handle but froze when he saw the blue bloodstains on the back of his hand. He hesitated, staring at the door for a few seconds before shouting, "Who¡¯s there?"


    "Mr. Sollivan, are you alright?" A familiar voice, filled with relief, came from the other side, making him pause for a moment. "Devlin, is that you?"


    "Yes, sir. I was really worried about you."


    "Wait a moment," Sollivan said hurriedly. He glanced around, then quickly moved to the water basin, washing his hands and wiping the blood off his face. When he was done, he pulled out a cracked, fragmented mirror and examined his face carefully. His eyes scanned every part of his face, and when he saw his forehead free of the fine scales, he relaxed a little. However, the change in his eye color bothered him slightly. Still, it didn¡¯t concern him much. He frowned again when he noticed dark spots on his clothes. He sighed in disappointment but felt no fear, confident that people wouldn¡¯t connect the stains to his blood. He adjusted his posture, feigning laziness and exhaustion, before ordering Noctis to disappear into the shadows of the room.


    He slowly pushed his wheelchair forward and opened the door to greet the familiar face filled with worry and anticipation. As soon as their eyes met, he noticed a faint sigh of relief from Devlin.


    Without speaking, Sollivan first scanned the narrow alley and noticed several pairs of eyes watching them silently, which annoyed him slightly.


    Devlin noticed his discomfort and apologized sincerely, "Sorry, Mr. Sollivan. I was in a hurry and drew too much attention."


    Sollivan¡¯s irritation faded quickly. He raised his head to look at the sincere boy and said calmly, though his voice was slightly strained, "Come in first, and then we¡¯ll talk."


    After entering and parking his wheelchair behind the cluttered table, Sollivan said quietly, "Take these dirty dishes and clean up the place."


    Without hesitation or complaint, Devlin began cleaning. He washed the dishes, gathered the crumpled papers scattered around, and threw them into the fireplace. As he worked, he glanced at the pile of firewood with confusion and wondered, ''Did someone bring firewood for the master?'' He didn¡¯t dwell on it, nor did he consider the possibility that Sollivan hadn¡¯t lit a fire for days. After finishing the dishes and collecting the trash, he grabbed a broom and swept the dirty floor.


    Sollivan watched all of this with a slightly lost expression. Now that things had calmed down a bit, he began to think carefully about his next steps. In the past, when he was disabled and had no hope of recovery, he had dreamed of the moment he would regain his life. On many nights, as he lay his head on the pillow, he imagined his life after recovery and the steps he would take to achieve his revenge. However, all those fantasies and thoughts became useless once his dream became reality. Although he hadn¡¯t regained the ability to walk, he now had a contracted beast, had learned a living language that might prove useful later, and, most importantly, he had gained knowledge of body-training techniques that offered hope for his recovery.


    ''If I awaken my blood and transform all my organs, reaching the stage of complete transformation, I¡¯ll be able to heal all my physical injuries, even my shattered spine.'' The idea lingered in his mind, but he felt no joy.


    ''This is difficult. It won¡¯t be easy under normal circumstances, not to mention the restrictions imposed by the world and the fact that my body isn¡¯t entirely healthy. I need to strengthen my body first, but the real problem is that I can¡¯t train. Even my family¡¯s body-strengthening techniques won¡¯t help much.'' He raised his hand and scratched his chin in confusion.


    "Mr. Sollivan, I¡¯m done. Do you need anything else?" Devlin¡¯s voice, filled with curiosity and hesitation, brought Sollivan back to the present. He looked at the boy for a moment, noticing his inquisitive gaze, and asked indifferently, "What¡¯s on your mind? Do you want to ask me something?"


    Devlin felt a little embarrassed, as his curiosity had been exposed. After a moment of hesitation, he asked, "Mr. Sollivan, where have you been these past few days? I came to your house three times and got no response."


    Sollivan smiled mysteriously and didn¡¯t answer. Instead, he asked, "Is that why you almost broke the door with your knocking? Did you think something bad had happened to me?"


    Devlin nodded sheepishly.


    "Hmm," Sollivan felt a warmth in his heart. The people who would worry about him were few, almost nonexistent. ''Thinking about it, isn¡¯t Devlin a suitable candidate for the Well¡¯s Seal? If I give him a Vein-Opening Pill and train him harshly, he could become useful quickly due to his great talent.''


    His eyebrows suddenly furrowed, and he shook his head in annoyance. ''No, I can¡¯t do that. Even though having enslaved individuals would benefit me, I won¡¯t go so far as to discard this friend.''


    After silently scolding himself, he looked into Devlin¡¯s eyes and said sternly, "I need you to buy some things for me."


    Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    Devlin nodded. "Sure, what do you need? Do you want some herbs for your cold? You look very sick."


    "No, no," Sollivan pulled out a large, strangely gleaming gold coin, causing Devlin, who had never seen one before, to step back involuntarily. He swallowed hard, his eyes darting between the coin and Sollivan before glancing at the closed door to ensure no one was watching. After calming his fears, he stared at the coin in awe.


    "Sir, where did you get this?" The words slipped out, laced with suspicion and disbelief.


    All he received in return was a simple smile and a sarcastic remark, "Are you really this surprised by a gold coin?"


    Devlin shook his head.


    "Alright, alright, don¡¯t overreact. Focus on what I¡¯m about to say."


    "Listen carefully. Take this coin and go to the market near the Bell Tower. You¡¯ll find a shop specializing in herbs and medicinal grains. Buy me one Vitality Enhancement Pill and three Strengthening Pills. Then, head to the western part of the city where the wholesale shops are and buy two bottles of Foundation Pills. On your way back, buy five kilograms of beef."


    "One Vitality Enhancement Pill, three Strengthening Pills, two bottles of Foundation Pills, and five kilograms of beef," Devlin repeated quickly, taking the coin and heading for the door.


    "Tsk," Sollivan frowned at his haste and stopped him. "Wait, I¡¯m not done."


    Devlin¡¯s steps halted abruptly, and he turned to look at Sollivan.


    "Hide the gold coin. Your eagerness and hesitation will draw attention. Anyway, when you leave my house, go about your daily activities as usual. As sunset approaches, go buy the things I mentioned. Be careful not to be followed by anyone suspicious. It¡¯s best to wander around the market a bit before returning."


    Sollivan¡¯s stern words calmed the astonished Devlin. He hid the coin under his clothes, patting it five times to ensure it was secure, before adjusting his expression and exhaling deeply. Then he left, repeating everything in his mind.


    Sollivan looked at the closed door and sighed. ''He¡¯s just a child, after all.''


    He cleared his mind and stopped thinking about the matter, relaxing in his chair. He pulled out a random book and began reading, but his empty stomach growled suddenly. He raised his head and looked at the box where no edible potatoes remained, sighing.


    After a moment of hesitation and laziness, he transferred his vision to Noctis without encountering any resistance this time and prepared a simple soup of water and wheat flour. Although it was almost tasteless, it satisfied his hunger.


    Afterward, he parked his wheelchair in front of the heater and continued reading quietly. Although he had only spent five days in the other world, he had experienced various dangers and nearly lost his life multiple times. This had kept him in a constant state of tension and fear. Even after things calmed down in the tribe, he still felt insecure. Now, back in his old, familiar home, his sense of peace returned, and he enjoyed the usual quiet.


    Time passed slowly, and Devlin hadn¡¯t returned yet. However, Sollivan wasn¡¯t worried, as he had instructed him to take his time. Besides, he was so engrossed in reading that he forgot about the world around him.


    After a while, he raised his head and stared at the fire, which was about to go out, sighing slightly. ''My memory has improved. Even though I didn¡¯t try to memorize the book¡¯s contents, I remember several parts in detail.''


    He shook his head slightly and smiled with satisfaction. He stretched his stiff arms and yawned sleepily.


    Knock!


    The soft knocking brought him back to focus. His fatigue disappeared, and he sent orders to Noctis to be ready. He pushed his wheelchair forward and opened the door slowly. Upon seeing Devlin¡¯s face, he felt a little relieved. He glanced at the darkening alley and, after ensuring everything was normal, closed the door.


    He then looked at Devlin, who let out a relieved sigh upon entering. ''It seems he remained tense even after I tried to calm him down.''


    After thinking silently, Sollivan asked, "How did it go?"


    "Huff," Devlin exhaled again as if he had been running and answered happily, "Everything¡¯s fine. I got everything you asked for." He placed a large linen bag on the floor in front of him and opened it to reveal its contents.


    Sollivan¡¯s eyebrows raised at the sight of potatoes and onions, but he quickly understood the purpose and praised, "You¡¯re really clever. It was good to buy some things at the market to make your shopping seem convincing."


    Devlin felt a little embarrassed and said, "No, no, sir. I just noticed some people giving me strange looks when I left the herb shop, so I wandered around for a while and bought some cheap things you might need to avoid suspicion."


    ''My teachings didn¡¯t go to waste.'' It could be said that Sollivan was the one who shaped Devlin into who he was now. In the past, when he taught and trained him, he repeatedly emphasized the importance of caution, even if everything seemed normal, and scolded him for any carelessness. This was why Sollivan himself acted with extreme caution. Any sudden, significant change in him could attract attention, especially from the gossipy neighbors, among whom there might be informants or spies working for some power, like the government.


    When he was younger, his father had warned him several times about people of unknown origin, and he understood the reason.


    Devlin walked over and handed him a few silver coins and four small bottles. Sollivan took them without a second thought and stuffed them into his pockets before asking with a wide smile, "Do you still know how to cook?"


    Devlin was surprised but also felt a surge of happiness, though he didn¡¯t show it on his face. He answered hesitantly, "Yes, Mr. Sollivan, but I should go now."


    "Tsk, enough with the lies. You¡¯re free and want to eat meat. Your eyes haven¡¯t left the bag. Come on, help me. We¡¯ll prepare a hearty meal today."


    Devlin bowed his head slightly, looking embarrassed. "You always see through me, sir. Can¡¯t you just not say it so directly?" Despite his words, he showed no displeasure and was, in fact, happy.


    "Enough talk. Let¡¯s cook. Take out two kilograms of meat, some potatoes, and onions." Sollivan paused for a moment, thinking carefully before remembering, "A meal like this needs good seasoning." He pulled out a silver coin from his pocket and handed it to Devlin. "Go get some sea salt, red pepper powder, a hundred grams of butter, some turmeric, and don¡¯t forget the bread."


    Devlin left quickly and returned a few minutes later with his hands and pockets full.


    After washing the ingredients, the two sat around the table and stared at the meat in confusion. After a brief silence, Devlin asked, "What are we making?"


    "You know, one dish isn¡¯t enough for the occasion. Let¡¯s divide the meat. We¡¯ll marinate one kilogram and grill it directly over the fire. The other kilogram we¡¯ll use to make onion and potato stew, seasoned with pepper powder and salt. Thinking about it, I still have some dried pepper pieces. They¡¯ll enhance the flavor." After explaining, he looked at Devlin, who was almost drooling at the thought.


    Without delay, the two began their plan. They prepared a simple, primitive marinade before taking out a small, rudimentary grill. Devlin lit the fire inside, placed a thin metal sheet as insulation, greased the surface with butter, and added the marinated meat.


    On the other side, Sollivan sprinkled a little vegetable oil on the bottom of the old pot before adding onion slices and the spice mix. After waiting a few seconds for the mixture to fry well, he added the chopped meat and some water.


    He watched the mixture for a moment before covering the pot, then sat down and began chatting with Devlin. He asked about his well-being and how he was spending the winter. Slowly, the atmosphere in the spacious room grew warm.


    As the delicious aroma filled the narrow, impoverished alley, several curious neighbors peeked out, eager to know its source.


    The dark, cold night fell, and the two lit candles to illuminate the room. They cleared the table of books and manuscripts, arranging them in an old wooden box. After setting the table with dishes, they sat in silence, staring greedily at the fatty meat slices and rich stew. After a moment of stillness, they began eating. No more words were exchanged¡ªonly the sound of chewing. After a long while, they finished and relaxed in their seats.


    The candlelight reflected off the empty plates. After patting his full stomach, Devlin had a sudden realization. He sat up straight, hesitated for a moment, and then asked, "Mr. Sollivan, are you planning to leave? It¡¯s not like you to be so generous, and you disappeared suddenly for several days."


    Even after hearing his anxious questions, Sollivan showed no clear emotions and remained relaxed in his chair. After a moment of silence, he replied sarcastically, "Boy, I¡¯m not going anywhere. And also, are you saying I¡¯m stingy?" A slight look of annoyance appeared on his face, making Devlin nervous.


    Quickly, Devlin adjusted his stance. "No, no, sir. All I meant was that you¡¯re usually thrifty."


    Sollivan raised his hand and scratched his chin in disappointment. "What you¡¯re saying is the same thing. It seems you become rude when you¡¯re full."


    The anxious questions suddenly turned into a playful argument between the two. After laughing heartily and reassuringly, Sollivan kicked Devlin out of his house, telling him to come early the next day to help clean up the cooking mess.


    After cleaning up and taking care of his needs, Sollivan headed to his familiar bed. With Noctis¡¯s help, he lay down, covered himself well, and as he stared at the dark ceiling, he realized he wasn¡¯t really sleepy. However, he was too lazy to change his position to read, nor did he want to disturb his rest by thinking about solutions to his problems. After a brief moment of confusion, he remembered he could st


    ill transfer his vision to Noctis.


    He closed his eyes carefully and transferred his senses to the shadow, which suddenly appeared beside him.

 Chapter 22: The Benefits of Primordial Blood

    His vision suddenly shifted, and he found himself staring at his own body, which appeared to be asleep. He glanced around the dark room for a moment, able to see every detail clearly, before stepping out into the larger room and taking in the chaos scattered everywhere. He sighed and muttered, "We might have gone a bit overboard."


    Bark!


    Creak!


    A variety of sounds reached his ears, coming from all directions. "Thinking about it, it''s been a while since I last went out." He gave a command to Noctis, and his body transformed into a black liquid that slid across the floor toward the door. As a result, his perspective shifted, allowing him to see part of the ceiling and a bit of what lay ahead.


    Once outside, he was greeted by the familiar sight of the narrow alley: tightly packed houses and a ground covered in melting snow, creating sticky white puddles filled with footprints. ''It seems the snow has stopped.'' He glanced up at the slightly clearer sky.


    ''I think I''ll return to work once the puddles dry up.''


    After ensuring the alley was free of any human presence, Noctis reformed his human body. To avoid drawing attention, he quietly leaped onto one of the shorter rooftops.


    Thanks to the shadow body''s malleable nature, which could shift from solid to liquid to gaseous, he was able to make his body extremely light, producing no sound as he moved, as if he weren¡¯t even there.


    With ease, he climbed the tightly packed houses until he reached the highest roof in the poor district. He raised his head and carefully observed the surrounding city. He noticed the stark contrast between the dark, dimly lit poor district, illuminated only by a few torches, and the brightly lit inner city, whose light reflected in his crimson eyes.


    Even from a distance, he could see the large torches and scattered lanterns everywhere. Vaguely, he could make out human figures strolling through the wide alleys. The inner city was bustling with life, and thanks to his sharp hearing, he could hear their distant murmurs.


    He turned his gaze to the tall bell tower, illuminated at its peak like a beacon in the center of the city. After a moment of hesitation, he dashed swiftly like a dark ghost, continuing to climb rooftops without descending into the lit alleys, until he reached a tall building in the city center. He sat relaxed on the isolated peak and quietly observed everything.


    His eyes moved from place to place, calmly watching the alleys around him. Despite the cold weather and the late hour, the area was thriving. Guards were stationed at corners, and popular restaurants were filled with customers. Occasionally, some drunkards or luxurious carriages carrying people returning home would pass by.


    He observed everything as a lone spectator. "The city looks different at night," he thought silently, noting the unfamiliar and strange atmosphere. Despite being an adult, he had never left the house late at night due to his physical condition and his love for solitude. Even in his teenage years, when he was at full strength, he never stayed out late because of his father''s strict nature. So, it could be said that this was the first time he had seen the city at this hour.


    A cold night breeze blew from the distant horizon, but it didn¡¯t affect him. So, he remained seated, watching the illuminated city without any external disturbance. Thanks to his heightened hearing and sharp vision, which could see into the darkest corners, nothing was hidden from him. He caught snippets of conversations and observed human faces, pondering the complexity of life. Time passed slowly, and he became so engrossed in his observations that he forgot himself.


    Suddenly, his vision darkened before he opened his eyes and looked at the familiar, dark ceiling.


    Sigh!


    "My limit doesn¡¯t exceed an hour and a half."


    Yawn!


    "It seems Noctis is still sitting on top of that building." He spoke in a soft, tired voice and, without hesitation, ordered Noctis to return. After waiting wearily for a few minutes, he felt the shadow''s presence beside him, and his body relaxed, allowing him to succumb to sleep.


    ...


    Sollivan suddenly opened his drowsy eyes and looked at the cold brown ceiling, from which a faint crackling sound emanated. Lazily and warmly, he stretched his arms slightly. After a brief moment of hesitation and enjoying the warmth of the bed, he ordered Noctis to merge with his wheelchair and approach him at a suitable distance.


    He pulled his warm hands out from under the blanket, slightly annoyed by the cold air around him. He grabbed the armrest and pulled himself up, struggling a bit before fully sitting on the wheelchair.


    He ordered Noctis to push the wheelchair and headed to take care of his needs and clean himself before preparing a simple breakfast, which was slightly richer than usual. After eating, he sat behind the cluttered table and observed the room with mild annoyance.


    But he didn¡¯t dwell on it and pulled out four small ceramic bottles made of white porcelain.


    He arranged the bottles in a row in front of him and stared at them blankly. After several minutes of stillness, he reached out and picked up one of the bottles, which made a faint clinking sound as its contents shifted.


    He opened the bottle and poured its contents into his hand, revealing two red pills the size of a thumbnail. He hesitated for a moment. ''Vitality-enhancing pills would have been very useful if my vitality hadn¡¯t been so severely damaged.''


    When he was injured in the past, not only was his spine shattered and his main vein destroyed, but his vitality was also severely damaged to the point that the person who treated him clearly told him he wouldn¡¯t live past thirty.


    But after spending a fortune and taking numerous medications, he managed to regain a bit of vitality. However, his lifespan didn¡¯t increase significantly, and he might only live until his mid or late thirties.


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    ''Damn it!'' He frowned and clenched his teeth in frustration as he remembered his suffering. He tightened his grip on the pills, and if not for his weakness, he might have crushed them in his anger.


    After a few seconds, he began to regain his composure. He opened his hand and looked at the pills with calmness and determination. His confusion and anger disappeared, replaced by a strong resolve. He pushed aside his fears and stopped caring about the distant future. Without further delay, he placed one of the pills in his mouth.


    As soon as the pill touched his saliva, its hardness lessened. He bit into it firmly and swallowed the soft fragments. As soon as the pill reached his stomach, a mild warmth spread through him, giving him a pleasant sensation. He slowly closed his eyes and began breathing in a strange rhythm, with some breaths long and others short and almost interrupted, and the same for his exhalations.


    However, after about ten minutes, a faint frown appeared on his face. He opened his eyes, his breathing returned to normal, and he sighed in disappointment.


    ''The pill''s contents were wasted. I don¡¯t know how much my body benefited from it.'' He lamented slightly.


    ''If only I had a bit of energy, I could monitor my physical condition and regulate the digestion process to ensure the pill''s benefits aren¡¯t wasted.''


    One of the basic abilities Arcanes masters gain upon starting cultivation is the internal echo technique, which allows them to see the internal details of their bodies and even intervene as their strength grows.


    He looked at the second pill in his hand and thought for a moment about what to do, then glanced at the remaining bottles.


    Knock!


    Suddenly, he heard a faint knocking sound that interrupted his thoughts. He wasn¡¯t annoyed, and without setting the pill aside, he went to the door and opened it to find Devlin, his face slightly flushed, standing happily.


    "Master Sollivan, good morning. Am I late?"


    "No, come in and clean up the mess." Without paying him further attention, he returned to his spot. He stared at the pill intently, and suddenly, a vague idea formed in his mind. He raised his eyebrows and thought more deeply.


    Clatter!


    Noise!


    The loud clattering of dishes disrupted his clarity of mind. He raised his head angrily and looked at Devlin, who was engrossed in his work, but he couldn¡¯t punish or scold him. All he did was grumble silently. ''Hah, I shouldn¡¯t have made him come early.''


    His hesitant thoughts lingered for a moment before he swallowed the pill in his hand, closed his eyes, and followed the same breathing pattern as before. His body and mind calmed, and he tried to imagine the potential energy flow that would help distribute the pill''s effectiveness throughout his body, but his thoughts were just ineffective fantasies.


    Clatter!


    Every time he felt he had grasped something useful, the noise of Devlin''s cleaning interrupted him.


    Time passed quietly, and after fifteen minutes, he opened his eyes and sighed in great disappointment. ''At this rate, I won¡¯t be able to strengthen my body even if I get better resources.''


    His complaint wasn¡¯t just fleeting disappointment and fears, but his inability to direct the energy of the vitality pills could expose him to serious physical harm if he consumed more than he could handle.


    He leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling for a very long time. Despite his annoyance, he felt a bit of relaxation and vitality. After all, the pills'' effectiveness wasn¡¯t entirely wasted; he had partially benefited from them. He enjoyed the pleasant warmth until it faded, and only Devlin''s voice woke him from his relaxation.


    "Master Sollivan, I¡¯m done. I¡¯ll leave now."


    Without opening his eyes, he raised his hand and gestured for him to go.


    A sharp cold entered through the suddenly opened door, making his body shiver slightly. His relaxation disappeared, and he opened his eyes with mild annoyance. He looked at the quietly closed door, and when he found the room had returned to its usual calm, he said lazily, "Appear."


    He looked at the shadow that suddenly appeared beside him and remembered he hadn¡¯t offered it any blood in the past two days. "Blood?!" Suddenly, a realization struck him, making him frown in suspicion.


    "Thinking about it, couldn¡¯t I use my blood to scan my body internally?"


    He had nothing to lose, so he closed his eyes again. This time, he didn¡¯t hesitate to follow a different breathing technique that helped isolate his senses and clear his mind. Before losing connection with the world, he ordered Noctis sternly.


    "Guard me."


    After that, he no longer heard anything from his surroundings, and even the darkness he saw with his eyes closed became darker. His mind became very clear. Without any delay, he stimulated his primordial blood, which had been dormant since his return.


    A beautiful warmth spread through his entire body, from the tip of his numb finger to the top of his head, as if his whole body was immersed in a hot spring. However, his calm feeling lasted only a short while before he felt a vague pressure imposing itself on him. His chest tightened slightly, and the warmth in his body decreased significantly.


    He frowned with mild annoyance, and even Noctis involuntarily took a step back out of fear of the world''s restraints, which had suddenly strengthened.


    Despite all this, Sollivan didn¡¯t stop. The pressure he felt wasn¡¯t unbearable, and he wanted to see the experiment through to the end. After several minutes, he finally opened his eyes and exhaled in great disappointment.


    ''No use. The sensation my primordial blood provides is just a general feeling and nothing like internal echo.'' He smiled bitterly and sighed.


    "It seems primordial blood isn¡¯t as amazing as I thought. The embellished praise from the tribal people really made me arrogant."


    His ability to stimulate his blood was just a simple and not very useful ability, something any Kornavar could do regardless of their blood quality. But from what he understood from his readings, stimulating blood before awakening it slightly benefits the body, increasing its fitness and flexibility. However, Sollivan hadn¡¯t paid much attention to it until now.


    As he complained sarcastically, he felt something slightly vague that surprised him. He turned and looked at Noctis, asking, "Do you feel this too? After stimulating my blood for a long time, the discomfort accompanying the world''s restraints has started to lessen."


    His eyes remained fixed on the red gems in Noctis''s face before receiving a wave of thoughts that slightly surprised him. "You too? Are you saying the pressure you feel has lessened after spending a few days in this world? But your strength hasn¡¯t returned to its peak?"


    Without waiting long, a wave of thoughts answered his question. "That¡¯s good too, as the feeling of restraint isn¡¯t very comfortable."


    After the strange discussion between them ended, Sollivan thought, ''I¡¯ll keep my blood stimulated until this feeling completely disappears.''


    Without stopping the stimulation of his blood, he relaxed his body and stretched lazily and tiredly. The breathing technique he used earlier wasn¡¯t without side effects, as it caused significant fatigue once its effects wore off.


    He slowly reached out and picked up one of the bottles in front of him. He opened it and took one of the pills inside, which was no larger than a pea. He looked at it with slight disappointment before casually tossing it into his mouth.


    The basic pills he had bought weren¡¯t very powerful or useful for people at higher levels of body strengthening, or what they called trainees. But for him, they were decent. Although each pill cost only half a silver coin, their benefits were still significant for humans who had just started strengthening their bodies. They also acted as a simple antibiotic and tonic that relieved fatigue.


    He took another pill and placed it in his mouth like a piece of candy. Then, he picked up a historical book he had partially read before and began reading it quietly.


    Time passed slowly, and as Sollivan immersed himself in reading, he felt a great warmth in his stomach. He raised his eyebrows in confusion and quickly set the book aside. He touched his warm stomach with a stunned expression and wondered, "What is this?"


    In fact, he was aware of the nature of the warmth spreading from his stomach, as he had experienced it dozens, if not hundreds, of times. It was known that when someone took a powerful medicinal pill, it would emit a refreshing vitality warmth in the stomach, indicating that it had been digested and was starting to release its medicinal effects within the body. But at this moment, Sollivan hadn¡¯t taken anything other than two low-quality pills that could barely be considered strengthening pills.


    He raised his hand and scratched his chin in astonishment, unable to speak for a long time until the warmth he felt disappeared. Immediately after, he felt a vague refreshment and slight lightness in his body.


    ''It can¡¯t be!'' His astonishment grew, and if not for his disability, he would have stood up in shock. After a long silence and processing, he wondered blankly, "What changed?" And as soon as the words left his mouth, he realized.


    "My blood?! Could it be that stimulating my blood increased my ability to absorb the pills'' effectiveness?! But that¡¯s impossible, as the warmth from my basic pills equaled that of vitality-enhancing pills."


    No matter how wild his imagination was, he couldn¡¯t connect the amount of warmth to the two basic pills. Even in the past, when he was a strong, healthy teenager, he had never felt such vitality from basic pills. Yes, he took into account his physical injury, past experience, and general knowledge. Even after abandoning some common sense, he still couldn¡¯t believe it.


    Without hesitation, he picked up the bottle of pills and took out three small pills. The bottle of basic pills contained twenty pills in total, worth ten silver coins. So, he didn¡¯t hesitate to eat them all to confirm his suspicions.


    He quickly swallowed the three pills and waited in silence. After confirming several times that his blood was still stimulated and the accompanying warmth hadn¡¯t faded.


    Tap!


    He tapped the armrest of his wheelchair with his index finger, unable to hide his tension. He counted the time anxiously, and as soon as about eleven minutes had passed, he felt the warmth spread through his stomach again. His eyes widened in astonishment, and even though he had expected it, he couldn¡¯t contain his shock.


    He raised his hand and grabbed his head before curling his lips into the widest smile of his life. His astonishment and shock disappeared, and all that remained was overwhelming joy, making his body tremble with excitement. He wanted to stand up, jump, and scream.


    He didn¡¯t calm himself and


    let the joy take over. And in his overwhelming emotions, Noctis was also affected. He emerged from his shadow and stood beside him in astonishment, unable to react.

 Chapter 23: An Unexpected Breakthrough

    [The Next Day]


    "Ugh..."


    Sollivan opened his drowsy eyes and slowly lifted his head from under the worn-out blanket, greeted by the intense cold of the air. His eyes, marked by dark circles, trembled slightly, and with a faint groan, he tried to get up, but felt an overwhelming heaviness restraining his body.


    "Huh..." He raised his unusually warm and strangely sweaty hand to touch his forehead, feeling an excessive heat. "Am I sick?"


    He let out a heavy sigh and thought about the previous day, which he had spent entirely consuming medicinal pills. ''I got too excited, but even if I took a lot, basic pills aren¡¯t harmful to health.''


    "Ah..."


    He groaned loudly again and involuntarily curled up due to the sharp pain that suddenly stabbed his stomach.


    *Grrr!*


    A sickly growl came from his stomach, giving him a bad omen. He moved as quickly as he could, pulling himself toward the wheelchair that Noctis had brought, but he couldn¡¯t. His strength gave out, and he became helpless. His body burned with intense heat, and he sweated profusely, as if his physical condition worsened with every passing minute.


    His vision suddenly became blurry, and his ears started ringing loudly. His chest tightened, and his breathing became heavy, producing a strange wheezing sound.


    "What¡¯s happening?" He could no longer understand what was going on, and this began to terrify him. What increased his fear the most were the strange and powerful movements in his intestines.


    Quickly and with a trembling hand, he grabbed the armrest and tried to pull himself up again, but to no avail. "Help me!" he commanded in a shaky voice.


    Noctis appeared behind him and pushed him, but this only made things worse, as Sollivan lost his balance and fell off the bed. He rolled a bit before lifting his head. He looked at the ground hazily before groaning, opening his mouth wide, and beginning to vomit violently.


    A thick, sticky liquid of a distorted color came out of his mouth, like a lump of mud. Unwilling to stop, his vomit, filled with black clumps and strange fleshy parts, spilled onto the floor, staining it and leaving a foul smell.


    "Huh..."


    His eyes widened, and he barely managed to keep his breath. He stared at the vomit beneath him but didn¡¯t have time to think about what it was because he started vomiting everything inside him again.


    "Huff..."


    "Huff..."


    After vomiting three more times, the stabbing pain in his stomach stopped, and he felt a bit lighter, regaining some of his strength. Exhausted and weary, he lay on the floor next to his mess and stared blankly at the ceiling.


    The haziness in his eyes faded, and the ringing in his ears stopped. After lying down for a long time, he regained his mental clarity and physical balance. With the help of Noctis, who had been hovering around him fearfully earlier, he returned to sitting in his wheelchair.


    He adjusted his position and covered himself well before staring at the large, sticky pile of vomit with fear and confusion. "What is this? Was something like this inside me? All that blackness and bloody color..." He quickly calmed himself.


    "No, my physical condition is fine, and I don¡¯t have any fatal internal injuries. On the contrary, I feel energetic..." His thoughts suddenly stopped, and he opened his mouth.


    "Wait, did I break through the first level of body strengthening?"


    "No, it can¡¯t be? But?!! Only during a breakthrough does the body expel impurities in the form of vomit or sweat."


    He fell silent for a moment and thought carefully before wondering. "But this is excessive? Even after breaking through five levels of body strengthening in my previous life, I only expelled half this amount of impurities in total. Could it be that my accumulated injuries are the cause, or is there something else?"


    Despite his happiness at breaking through the first level of body strengthening, his confusion and questions left him unable to express his joy, and he remained seated in astonishment.


    Grrr!


    His stomach growled again, but this time it was to let him know how hungry he was. Not wanting to exhaust his mind further, he stopped thinking and went to wash himself. After cleaning the dirty floor with Noctis''s help, he went to prepare his breakfast.


    He took out a kilogram of meat, some potatoes, and onions, and prepared a rich and hearty meal. Because he had spent a lot of time cleaning and cooking, his hunger increased, and his stomach refused to stay quiet.


    As soon as the meal was ready, he began eating quickly. He stuffed the meat and potato pieces into his mouth hastily, not caring about their heat or taste. Within five minutes, he had finished the entire plate.


    He looked at the dirty plate with a bit of leftover meat broth and sighed in disbelief and astonishment. "I¡¯m still hungry." The amount he had eaten was quite large, and usually, he would divide this amount over the entire day, but now it barely satisfied his hunger.


    He hesitated for a moment due to his confusion, then returned to the hearth and prepared a soup from wheat flour, the remaining potatoes, and some spices. After emptying the pot, he patted his stomach with satisfaction and happiness.


    After satisfying his stomach, his mental clarity and usual calm returned. He sat back comfortably and contemplated the dirty dishes and utensils on the table, then complained loudly. "If my appetite stays this open, I¡¯ll suffer a lot because of my low budget."


    "I only have two kilograms of meat left. I need to eat them quickly before they spoil, and I also need to buy more ingredients. But I¡¯ll leave that until Devlin comes." He fell silent and stopped bothering himself with trivial matters.


    He narrowed his eyes in confusion and wondered.


    "How did my body expel all those impurities? This is unnatural. Also, even if the world of body strengthening is simple and easy, breaking through the first level in one night is still excessive. Even in my first life, it took me five days of rigorous physical training and a few strengthening pills."


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    A small, sarcastic smile appeared on his face. He raised his head and looked at the ceiling with strange eyes, then laughed. "I didn¡¯t think the speed of my training would make me feel such fear." His smile faded before he sighed in relief.


    "I¡¯m really a fool. How can I compare my current self, who possesses primordial blood, to my past self, who focused on building energy and didn¡¯t realize the potential of the body?"


    ''According to what¡¯s said, the higher the quality of blood, the easier it is for a warrior to strengthen their body, and they¡¯ll gain double the benefits with less effort. Thinking about it, this is true. When I stimulated my blood and took the pills, I benefited from their medicinal properties to the fullest extent. More precisely, I was able to absorb all the medicinal efficacy in them, which is something impossible for an ordinary person who would only benefit from fifty percent or even less if the pills were poorly made like the ones I have.''


    Ordinary humans couldn¡¯t digest pills as effectively as he could, so they resorted to auxiliary methods like physical training and breathing techniques that helped them digest the accumulated residues in their bodies and also stimulated their personal potential. Because of this, even humans without any techniques could break through body strengthening levels through hard daily work alone. But no matter how hard they worked, they couldn¡¯t surpass the fourth or fifth level in their lifetime, due to their lack of strong foundations and training techniques.


    He raised his hand and scratched his chin, and without hesitation, he stimulated his blood and felt the pleasant warmth spreading throughout his body. He couldn¡¯t stimulate his blood all the time, but he wouldn¡¯t have a problem doing so for a few hours. And so far, he was still ignorant of how it worked. His blood was very ordinary and no different from other humans, but when stimulated, he felt a significant difference from his human identity.


    As he thought, he raised his hand and slapped his forehead foolishly. "Isn¡¯t this the secret that¡¯s been bothering me? My primordial blood improves my physical structure, even if only slightly, as I¡¯ve read. It must have been what pushed me to expel all those accumulated impurities."


    As soon as he said this, he felt a great sense of relief and was no longer afraid of any bad outcomes or side effects that might happen to him. Calmly, he took the second bottle of basic pills. He relaxed in his seat and ordered Noctis to keep an eye on his surroundings. After clearing his mind and ensuring his blood was stimulated, he began eating the small pills like candy, consuming two every fifteen minutes.


    He monitored the subtle changes happening to his body and quietly felt his strength and lightness increasing at a slow but noticeable pace.


    The world of body strengthening consisted of ten levels, but most trainees stopped at the seventh or eighth level, and some even stopped at the fifth level, as it was the minimum requirement to attempt breaking through the world of opening meridians and officially becoming an Arcane master. Also, because physical strength didn¡¯t increase much after the sixth level.


    The benefits humans gained from strengthening their bodies included increased organ durability, enhanced endurance, and improved healing abilities. They needed less time than ordinary people to recover from injuries, and even some fatal injuries for ordinary humans were considered normal for them. But this only applied to people above the fifth level.


    From time to time, he stopped to take short breaks. Because of this, he didn¡¯t finish the entire bottle until seven hours had passed. He felt the faint warmth in his stomach left by the last pill until it disappeared, and then he opened his mouth and exhaled a long, misty breath.


    He raised his hand and clenched his fist, which had become slightly stronger. ''I¡¯ve reached about a quarter of the way to the second level. But...'' He looked at the bottle of basic pills and sighed in disappointment.


    "These pills aren¡¯t very useful anymore, and the warmth they emit has become fainter. It seems I also benefited from the remnants of the vitality-enhancing pills, which is why the wave of warmth I felt before was so strong."


    However, his disappointment didn¡¯t last long and quickly turned into happiness. He was satisfied, extremely satisfied with the changes happening to him, or rather, the unexpected miracle that turned his life around overnight. He wasn¡¯t greedy or hasty, and he wanted to take things slowly, climbing step by step. Although he was currently very excited, which made him do some things impulsively without taking enough time to think about them.


    After contemplating his miraculous changes, he summoned the black book that was the cause of everything. He felt its rough cover and looked at the gem in its center with lost eyes. He opened it aimlessly and looked at the blank pages, wondering in a soft, confused voice. "You¡¯re not something simple."


    "..."


    Sollivan turned his head and looked at Noctis, who had suddenly appeared beside him. He frowned and asked.


    "What¡¯s wrong? Why are your emotions so chaotic?"


    Noctis stared at the book in his hands for a moment, then looked at his face and conveyed his thoughts.


    "You¡¯re saying the book scares you?"


    After receiving confirmation from Noctis, Sollivan felt a bit of astonishment before calming him. "Relax, this book is a powerful treasure, and your senses must be wary of it." Despite saying this, he felt a bit of curiosity, and several questions about the book and its origins came to mind.


    ''I¡¯ve read many legends about the powerful Arkanith treasures on the continent, but there¡¯s no mention of anything like this book, or any book in general.''


    Powerful and legendary treasures weren¡¯t uncommon in his world, and they were generally called Arkanith treasures. There were several folk tales and local legends that spoke of some of them. Books and records also received their share of praise among the treasures. Among the most famous known treasures in the Golden Lion Empire was the Shattered Sun Shield, rumored to be in the Emperor¡¯s possession, but no one could confirm this rumor.


    "I don¡¯t need to think about this. I don¡¯t care about its origin as long as it doesn¡¯t harm me in the future." Despite his words and wishes, he wasn¡¯t naive enough to think things would go smoothly. He had some concerns about his big secret, but he didn¡¯t let them disturb his peace and aspirations.


    After clearing his mind of all chaotic and random thoughts, he ordered Noctis to disappear and looked at the book in his hands. He contemplated its details carefully again and touched its cover gently, as if handling something precious to his heart. He felt the simple connection between him and the book and tried to stimulate it and communicate with it, but he received no response, or rather, he felt like he was talking to a deaf wall.


    After a long period of one-sided communication, he lost hope of getting a result and sighed in slight disappointment. After getting tired of contemplating the book and wanting to hide it, he felt a strong wave of thoughts entering his head, or rather, instructions. His eyes widened, and his head rang with intense pain. A small drop of blood fell from his nose, but he showed no discomfort and remained seated steadily, staring at the book in shock.


    He truly didn¡¯t expect to get an answer, and his attempts were just casual experiments. He sorted through the thoughts that entered his head and reviewed their content carefully before exhaling in astonishment and happiness. He looked at the book in his hands, its gem glowing faintly and differently than usual, then quickly reached out and grabbed a random book from the table.


    He calmly remembered the simple feelings and instructions he received and directed some specific thoughts to the book through their connection.


    Vibration!


    The book in his hands shook, and its black cover, filled with engravings, became extremely dark and smooth, with no features on it, and even the gem in its center disappeared.


    Sollivan looked at his black, hazy reflection that appeared on the dark cover like a mirror of evil. Without hesitation, he pushed the book in his hand into the cover, and mysteriously, the book entered through the cover and disappeared without leaving a trace. His eyes widened further, and he quickly pulled his hand back. Had he not known this would happen, he might have jumped in shock.


    He slowly reached out again and hesitantly inserted his hand into the cover. An intense, sticky coldness spread around his hand, teasing his trembling fingers. His body shivered, and after freezing in place for a moment, he pushed his hand further in until his arm almost completely disappeared.


    He aimlessly moved his hand stuck in the book until he suddenly felt something solid touch the tip of his finger. He grabbed it firmly and quickly pulled his hand out, looking at it in fear. After ensuring it was unharmed, he exhaled in relief. He contemplated the book he had pulled out, and all his confusion and fears turned into deep happiness. At the same time, he felt intense fatigue and a faint pain in his head.


    ''This is exhausting, but amazing at the same time. I didn¡¯t imagine the book had such a large storage space inside. However, using it is very exhausting for my weak self.''


    According to the instructions he received, he could retrieve the items he inserted by thinking alone, but he couldn¡¯t do that and had to shove his hand in and do it manually. He didn¡¯t expect his mental strength to be this low. Even before, when he communicated with the book, he felt great danger. Had the communication lasted more than a second, his head might have exploded.''


    Sigh!


    "This explains a lot."


    Sollivan¡¯s mental strength wasn¡¯t truly low; on the contrary, it surpassed that of ordinary people and early-stage Arcane masters in the world of opening meridians. This was due to two factors: first, he had reached the peak of the early stage of the world of opening meridians before his vein was destroyed, so he retained a large portion of his mental strength. Second, his lineage changed, and he obtained primordial blood, which significantly increased his mental and spiritual strength.


    ''Thinking about it, I believe my mental strength has improved slightly due to the strong memory I gained after my blood changed. Does the primordial blood flowing in me have something to do with the soul? Perhaps this explains how I successfully cast the Well Seal without being harmed. Also, I¡¯ve heard that contracting with monsters requires a strong soul.'' He narrowed his eyes in confusion and thought carefully about his theories.


    Mental strength was closely linked to the soul. It was said that the mind was the gateway to the soul and the exit of the body, making it the connecting point that completes the human body. Although these were just sayings with some truth, increasing spiritual strength also increased mental strength, and vice versa.


    Sollivan stopped thinking and returned the book to its place. Before stretching his stiff arms and shoulders from sitting too long, he yawned tiredly, and his eyes teared up slightly. In a tired voice, he sighed.


    "I¡¯ve exhausted myself with training and thinking today. My physical strength has improved, but given my overall condition, this won¡¯t be very useful in the first and second levels."


    He pushed his wheelchair without Noctis''s help, and unlike usual, it was very easy. He didn¡¯t feel like he was exerting much effort. Happily, he thought as he remembered the bad streets.


    "Moving around will be easy now."


    Although he had Noctis, who could merge with the wheelchair and drive it automatically, he didn¡¯t want to do that now due to the suspicions it would raise with the change in his wheelchair¡¯s color and shape. People in the poor neighborhoods were very curious and would observe anything closely to discuss in their gossip sessions.


    After aimlessly wandering around the room and spinning in place several times, he opened the door and checked the narrow alley, which was beginning to darken. He looked at the muddy puddles that were starting to dry and saw some dirty water channels. Then, he remembered he hadn¡¯t emptied his bladder since morning.


    In a voice full of disappointment, he sighed.


    ''Again.'' Due to his physical condition, the thing he hated doing the most was going to the bathroom and taking care of nature¡¯s call because of its difficulty. So, he usually endured it until he reached his limit.

 Announcement

    Hey everyone! I hope you''re all doing well.


    First, I apologize for the long break and the lack of updates! I really appreciate everyone who has been following along. Second, after some thought, I¡¯ve decided to stop posting here. But don¡¯t worry¡ªyou can still find the novel on Webnovel under the same name! Right now, you¡¯ll find up to Chapter 40 available, with new chapters being released at a semi-daily pace.


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    Bloodbound oath between realms.


    Thanks for all your support!


    Auraxis