Boom!
The bonfire violently erupted, wild flames spreading like a storm wind as the phantom sounds dissipated in agony.
After the dust settled, Yang Zicang’s gradually recovering form emerged.
Asner did not exist, yet Yang Zicang felt an additional power within himself.
Just then, accompanied by several savage wails, several red shadows swiftly swept across the night sky over the savage camp and shot into the flames. These were minor evil nightmares manifested from other “artificial beings.”
At this moment, almost every savage began emitting a dangerous aura as they fled in chaos.
“Damn it, even wrapping oneself in animal skin counts as one?” The thought had just emerged when Yang Zicang immediately found his mental intent twisted.
-[Some matters are more urgent; for now, we must deal with the main enemy.]
It felt as if there were another presence within his mind, but that was nothing new—Yang Zicang had grown accustomed to it.
Just as he turned to leave, a low yet powerful phantom roar echoed once again between the cliffs.
Within the fire, a sinister obscurity was gathering.
“Not dead?”
So that’s what Asina meant.
Amid the smoke and dust, the dark red flame lost its shape; it tried to manifest several times but failed.
Yang Zicang quickly took an evil nightmare form out of his pocket, infused it with temporal sequence, and hurled it out. Unexpectedly, the residual energy of the flame nightmare soared far along with the pierced nightmare corpse, engulfing and refining it.
“What! Damn it!”
[The evil nightmares you speak of come in many different types; those born from fire are more powerful; moreover, they contain spiritual power from original worship, far surpassing ordinary nightmare levels.]
The flame devoured the spiritual war vessel born from the desert, then took form rapidly. It turned into a several-meter-long creature resembling a desert centipede—like an earth dragon!
“Damn, it can even devour similar beings and revive?!” Yang Zicang was shocked.
The fire monster’s head, reborn by swallowing the spiritual war vessel, was as fierce as a tiger or wolf, but at its sides grew curved fire pincers used to deliver food to its mouth.
They seemed like the ferocious jaws of a Bobbitt worm.
……
[Rising from the ashes is a fundamental property of fire.]
“I understand.”
……
The nightmare monster’s gaze was like a torch, its massive, two-person-wide body coiling swiftly as it charged forward, scorching heat waves causing the air to rumble with a dull roar.
Yang Zicang unfurled his form, dodging like a phantom, and whipped his long spear across with ferocity.
Boom! Boom!
The monster slithered left and right like a snake; fortunately, Yang Zicang was unafraid of flames, and even if struck, his body could quickly recover.
The dangerous aura around them grew thicker. The monster, having devoured its kind, became even stronger. How could anyone still play this game?
“Eeya!”
“Hah!”
Two barbarian chiefs angrily charged at the fire, holding up boulders.
“Stop! You idiots!”
[Dispatch!]
The two barbarians, lifting rocks with reckless abandon, ran before the monster in an X-shaped arc. The long fur on their beast-hide bodies was ignited by the high temperature, forcing them to roll on the ground in a panic to douse the flames.
[I have achieved over 80% mental resonance with the Melt-Vein Master, Asne.]
[I am beginning to understand the Explosive Wind Fist!]
Involuntarily, Yang Zicang activated certain dormant forces within him. A profound clarity enveloped his mind, as if someone were guiding him hand in hand. He clenched his fist—and struck!
Rumble!
A giant phantom fist burst forth, exploding fiercely! The flames scattered in all directions! The flaming centipede monster was sent flying by the fist shadow, which felt as tremendous as a deity’s. It expanded into a gale-force wind, roaring across the forest.
The trees swayed.
[I unleash the Explosive Wind Fist!]
The Time-Sequence Golden Radiance imbued within rippled outward, and as it swept over the primitive men, it temporarily suppressed the birth of the beast-hide Nightmares.[Remember this feeling. You’re on your own now.]
[My heart resonance with the Vein Convergence Asna exceeds 60%.]
[My heart resonance with the Vein Convergence Asna falls below 45%. Resonance terminated.]
Yang Zicang gazed at the frozen river in the distance.
“Come on, you fiend!”
Yang Zicang’s confidence reignited.
On the snowfield, a furious centipede with the head of a tiger and wolf was lured away by Yang Zicang as his golden-glowing weapon lashed at it relentlessly. The battle raged all the way to the riverbank.
BOOM! Half of the Nightmare’s body instantly melted the ice and plunged into the river, sizzling like a red-hot iron ingot, releasing a massive cloud of steam.
“Since you jumped in, don’t even think of leaving!”
Through the steam, golden light and flames clashed; the destructive power and sheer force of the two silhouettes left the savages utterly awestruck.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
Countless savages gathered around, gazing in terror at this battle reminiscent of gods—they finally understood why even the shaman had bowed before him.
……
“Ooh-argh~!”
After several collisions, with a deafening muffled roar, the flame monster, which had boiled away much of the river water, shuddered violently, collapsed limply, and dissipated like fireworks.
As soon as it died, Yang Zicang immediately rushed to the shore, arbitrarily tore off a piece of animal skin casually wrapped around a savage, and punched it.
Thanks to the golden wind of time that had permeated that previous punch, the malignant nightmares contained within the animal skins had still not fully manifested.
“Good, I’ve managed to save at least one tribe.”
After a flurry of activity, turning thousands of beast hides into low-level spiritual artifact templates with a strange aura, Yang Zicang finally had the chance to wade back into the water, where something was constantly emitting heat, causing the river water to boil and gurgle.
Picking it up for a look, it turned out to be a stone as red as blood jade.
Inside, a lava-like glow slowly flowed, with a faint, coiled shadow of a wolf-headed flame centipede curling within.
[I have obtained the Spiritual Artifact Template. It can probably devour the spirits of other nightmares.]
Startled for a moment, Yang Zicang said, “So your power is to devour your own kind. No wonder.”
He tossed the radiant, high-temperature crystal in his hand a few times before stepping ashore, where the savage people gathered to welcome him as if he were a shaman.
“Stop squatting. Starting today, I’ll teach you language.”
Yang Zicang said with a smile: “Get ready for a painful kindergarten class.”
Meanwhile, he silently recalled that whirlwind-like punch just now, and the energy-circulating path within his body temporarily surfaced along with the memory.
……
One hundred and twenty-one years later.
At the seaside primitive tribe’s settlement, many elderly people who were fishing with nets saw that figure arrive as promised.
He had said he would appear again when a comet appeared in the sky, and indeed, that came true.
“Zang.”
A few elderly men with unclear speech gathered around.
“No need to be formal.” Yang Zicang wore a gentle expression, carrying a iron sword on his back.
He turned his head to gaze at the sky, where a small point of light with a tail appeared in the distant horizon.
The young man’s pace was in sync with the comet. He crossed vast wildernesses and distant mountains, destroying the grotesque doom eggs born within one clan after another where he had once stayed.
Over the years, he taught them simple languages, instructing them on how to fend off beasts, fish, grow crops, fire pottery, drink clean water, and bandage wounds.
As the comet was about to reach the other side of the land, Yang Zicang arrived at the “Fire Tribe.”
Once again, many familiar faces were gone, and they no longer recognized him.
Although there were still a few elders who had seen him before, Yang Zicang felt that his connection to this place had largely faded. After a brief exchange, this man, whose appearance remained unchanged for over a century, departed temporarily amid the reverent gazes of the crowd.
Accompanied by two chieftains, Yang Zicang arrived at their ancestral cave.
“Sixty years ago, this place was teeming with people, and now it has become a forgotten memorial hall,” Yang Zicang sighed as he looked at the empty cave.
He strode into the spacious cave.
Although he had interacted with this place for nearly three Jiazi (a period of 180 years), this was, in fact, the first time he had truly set foot inside. The young man’s gaze swept over scattered straw mats and animal-skin mats of various sizes.
He looked at the messy stone walls, which were marked with simple lines.
Yang Zicang walked step by step along the stone wall to the right, arriving at the farthest corner, where a dusty beast skull was hung. This area was elaborately adorned, and despite having been abandoned for a long time, it still retained an ancient sense of solemnity.
The rock paintings near this spot also showed a bit more craftsmanship.
Then, in this abandoned cave, he saw an image of himself.
……
2,400 years later.
By the surging river, Yang Zicang, dressed in a coarse cloth robe, climbed to the mountaintop beside the waterfall and gazed at the landscape.
Behind him was a small clearing, where a thatched hut stood.
He glanced at the halo on his chest, where the “extra lifespan” known as “Time Sequence” was reduced to just the numbers 1000.
Since spotting more and more simple figure outlines representing him in primitive tribes, Yang Zicang had roughly guessed where the Bloodline Resonance Statue he was looking for could be found.
It lay in the distant future.
Four thousand years of Time Sequence was far from enough.
[I’m going to temporarily break away from the dream.]
Yang Zicang clutched the glowing envelope and muttered to himself in his mind.
[I suspect that if I leave now, the next time I enter will be when the comet departs once more.]
This time, it did not stop him.
The envelope emitted a swirling vortex of consciousness, and Yang Zicang felt as if in a dream; everything around him seemed unreal.
The sense of primacy from these millennia quickly faded, and various experiences were compressed and packed into his brain like bundled items, causing past and present to overlap in an instant, the vast sense of time rapidly receding.
[This time, I can take one item with me.]
“Huh?”
A certain image flickered.
……
“Hey, you’re awake? I mean, fine, I won’t bother scolding you.”
A whiff of stench drifted over, but still within a tolerable range.
“How long have I been asleep?” Yang Zicang held his head as he sat up.
Luo Bin, who was munching on roasted meat, leaned in with a skewer.
“About a day and a half.” He squinted like a fox and asked, “You went to the realm of the stamp emblem?”
“Yeah.”
Yang Zicang blurted out the answer automatically, then glared angrily at this fat man.
“Good grief, if you keep piling them up, you could almost make a complete stamp emblem. What a shame, what a shame.”
Luo Bin shook his head happily and spoke with a sarcastic tone.
He deliberately wanted to anger this fool; at that moment, his mind was full of the Chrono Weapon that had been snatched away yesterday. Every time he thought of how that gun had been right beside him yet lost, Luo Bin wanted to punch this guy, who slept like a dead pig, a few times.
Yang Zicang sensed his body’s state and found it no different from before falling asleep.
Although he had spent nearly two thousand six hundred years in the dream, upon waking, he immediately felt that experience was as swift and illusory as a dream itself, and his personality hadn’t been affected by that prolonged duration.
Leave a Reply