The very next moment, Rein found himself sprawled on a grassy field as he felt the tremors of a building collapsing through the earth.
When he turned back in the direction of the tremors, he saw the wooden roof of the house cave in amidst swirling dust.
The mudbrick walls, on the whole, still stood strong, except for the areas where the holes were carved by Master Yirn’s display of skill. Those specific sections of the walls had completely shattered like pottery.
In the middle of the fallen roof stood an unruffled Master Yirn in a murky green and brown robe.
“Master, your strength is too much for these poor mortal houses,” the middle-aged man complained monotonously.
Master Yirn poker face suddenly transformed as he beamed at the middle-aged man, “Precisely. That is why you will be teaching Rein now.”
Master Yirn then vanished into air, and immediately, the image of the mudbrick house shifted back into its original perfect condition! The previous damage was nothing but an illusion.
Rein was still recalling Master Yirn’s recent display of strength. Thus, he asked the only person beside him-- the middle-aged man-- his question.
“Master Yirn’s flying longstaff… What is the main difference between the outer and the telekinetic realm on remotely controlling flying objects?”
The middle-aged man looked at Rein with distaste, though did not voice out the reason for this distaste.
“That’s a telekinetic realm skill.,” The middle-aged man answered his question curtly. “When you reach the telekinetic realm, you can siphon off a part of your soul, and directly insert it into a few items. It allows an advancer to control a weapon as just another limb. It’s completely superior to the outer realm, where you might be competing with another advancer over the control of a single object. Imagine… a tendril you have reached out wrestling for control over an object against another advancer’s tendril. That is the weakness of the outer realm against the telekinetic.”
The middle-aged man hesitated for a moment before drawling derisively, “And the other telekinetic skill is divine sense. It allows advancers to use their souls to directly communicate with the surroundings and sense events, objects and other advancers. Before reaching the telekinetic realm, it is nigh on impossible to accurately ascertain another advancer’s strength.”
Rein sighed. This middle-aged man probably only bothered explaining those skills to him because of his loyalty to Master Yirn.
Rein did not care about the middle-aged man’s attitude toward him. He had decided that as long as he received the knowledge and training he needed, he could put up with anything. A demeaning comment here and there? Nothing compared to his goals.
He stood on his feet, and gave the middle-aged man the traditional hooked-fingers greeting.
“Rein,” he introduced himself.
“Chenhr.” The middle aged man paused for a moment before replying in a slow and dragged out voice. “I am the third disciple of Master Yirn. And you? If you have truly been accepted by Master Yirn as a disciple… you will be the eighth. You won’t be.”
Rein felt relieved. Although he was prepared to deal with Chenhr’s attitude, it would definitely be preferable to rely on the other disciples. Hopefully, they would be more welcoming. His hope was immediately dashed.
“The first, second, and fourth through seventh disciples have long left though. It’s only ME here with you.” Chenhr’s generally measured voice, for a single word, was filled with anger.
Rein shuddered at Chenhr’s sudden leak of anger. Perhaps it was this middle-aged man that had chased away all those other disciples.
He looked up at the spotless clear blue sky, wondering what the future might hold.
This action made him notice an odd detail. When he was knocked out by Master Yirn, it was already the afternoon.Yet currently, the sky remained bright as if it was midday! Did he sleep for a whole day? If he did so, he would be extremely hungry with a growling belly-- not so!
He could not help but examine Chenhr standing to his side. Chenhr robotically turned his head and looked into Rein’s eyes with mirth.
Then Chenhr’s face transformed into Master Yirn’s before the whole scenery shattered like glass… again.
The scenery was replaced by the interior of the mudbrick house. Rein did not have a mirror, but he knew that as of right now, his eyes were flat slits and his expression deadpan.
At the same time, he could not help but turn his head left and right, attempting to see if it was all just an illusion… again. Perhaps if he noticed something off about his surroundings, the illusion would break again…
Frankly, his heart was gripped by a deep sense of terror. He had been completely unaware that his previous experience was an illusion. That only showed that Master Yirn could eternally trap Rein within a false world if the expert so desired.
“Don’t bother, you fool.” The monotonous voice of Chenhr mocked Rein again. “If the Master truly wanted to trap you in an illusion forever, you would be none-the-wiser regardless of how closely you observe the surroundings.”
Instead of Master Yirn, Chenhr now stood in front of Rein. Assuming that this ‘Chenhr’ was not just an illusion. Speaking of which, does Chenhr even exist? Or was he just a fictional figure created by Master Yirn’s illusion?
Rein wanted to smash his head against a wall. Perhaps that might break any illusion and give clarity to his mind.
He had gained the understanding that in certain scenarios, his origin skill would be useless-- he would not be able to escape if he ended up trapped in an illusion.
“Now. Unfortunately for me, Master Yirn has already ordered me to guide you. Although I personally would prefer not to, it is not my place to disagree with his command.”
Master Yirn was definitely mysterious and powerful. As for the Chenhr in front of him, who might not even be real?
“How strong are you really?” Rein squinted his eyes while scanning the middle-aged man before him.
Chenhr opened a bamboo folding fan with complex inscriptions across each strip. He casually fanned himself as he half-turned his body, his tone innocent. “I’m just a peak inner advancer.”
Rein furrowed his brows. He had come seeking knowledge of the advancer world. Will Chenhr, just an inner advancer, be able to teach him much? He had thought Master Yirn would guide him.
He glanced at the huge hammer and his possessions that stood against the wall behind him. He had noticed their presence ever since the illusion had ended.
Chenhr continued to leisurely fan himself, pretending to be ignorant of the tension in the air.
With that, Rein leaped backwards and gripped the heavy hammer, wishing to compare himself to Chenhr. He then formed a circle with his two hands and swirled into a small black sphere.
Chenhr glanced around the room, attempting to decipher where Rein had teleported to. Perhaps, hiding behind one of the beams supporting the roof?
He then chuckled and then tilted his head backwards as he stared directly above his head to see Rein swinging the heavy hammer down with the help of gravity.
Rein had teleported a few feet above Chenhr! Taking advantage of the short time required to descend, he had gripped the heavy hammer and swung downwards!
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However, to Chenhr, this was but an age-old trick. Any competent fighter would know the common blindspots a prey would have: above and below.
Chenhr leisurely waved his arm that held the bamboo folding fan to meet the heavy hammer blow.
By all rights, anyone with common sense, upon seeing the sight, would believe that the bamboo folding fan would shatter into a million splinters and Chenhr crushed by the hammerhead.
Instead, the folding fan glowed with a brownish aurae as it met the hammer head, causing the tool to crack in various places.
And when Chenhr followed through with his arm in a sweeping motion, a burst of brown aurae emitted from the fan, and like a dust storm, blasted Rein across the room like a kite with its strings cut. The heavy hammer head received a huge dent as it tumbled out of Rein’s grasp. Combined with the cracks, it was a wonder how the hammerhead had yet to shatter into pieces.
Rein then landed onto the ground in his original position, winded as he struggled to sit up in confusion.
All this occurred in a single breath.
Rein was naturally confused. As an inner advancer, Chenhr should not have been able to emit his aurae to attack him. A shell advancer could only at best cover their whole body with their aurae for either attack or defense. Only an outer advancer would be able to project aurae in different forms.
Chenhr had clearly emitted an incredibly powerful burst of brownish aurae through the folding fan, vigorous enough to thoroughly throw Rein’s body across the room!
“You lied!” His first reaction was to accuse Chenhr of obscuring his advancer realm.
“Child. You are more of a fool than I imagined.” Chenhr’s foot stamped onto his chest, completely expelling any air out of Rein’s lungs, making it impossible for him to recover his position.
“I, too, am an origin advancer. But even if I was as you said, an advancer who obscured my power realm… That is but common trickery in the world of advancers,” scoffed Chenhr in disbelief. “Remember. There is no true justice. Or fairness. Only your will. Against mine and others! And if your will is strong enough, then perhaps you will be like my master, an expert worshiped by some. Yet though I share my master’s will, it is nothing but dust to my fellow disciples who have abandoned our path!”
Denied of air, Rein gradually weakened, his lips struggling for air like a goldfish. Right when his vision grew hazy, Chenhr finally took off his foot, and Rein gasped vigorously as his head cleared.
“Although not commonly seen, there are a significant number of advancers that have such an origin skill, enough to create the norm of assuming the enemy to have such a potential source of strength!”
“My origin skill is, frankly, basic. I am but a power crystal, able to store immense volumes of aurae in my body that allows me to execute endless advancer magics, not to mention expel that aurae outwards for different uses. There are origin skills far more unique and threatening.”
Chenhr closed his bamboo folding fan with a smack against his other hand.
“And only a fool would use an origin skill off the bat! Do you not know of the many organizations that would love to kidnap a target like you for experimentation?”
He then continued pacing back and forth, his simple and rough navy blue half-robe flowing behind him as he stepped and turned.
“The reason origin skills are rarely seen and used is simple. It attracts too many eyes, that is, unless the user has a huge backer. Did you know, most of today’s advancer skills are sourced from experiments done on the ancient users of these origin skills?”
Rein had just caught his breath, but this revelation immediately emptied his lungs again. He was fully aware of not displaying the skill easily to attract attention. Yet, pnly now did he truly understand the full scope and importance of avoiding the use of said origin skill.
Cold sweat rolled down his back as Rein mentally thought back to the Wolf Syrup Town, quickly realizing that the young son of the scarred right cheek bandit was a much more dangerous loose end than he originally thought.
He could only hope that the young boy was unable to accurately recall any of his features. That night, his hair was a mess, his face covered with soot and sweat. After a few more years, his full maturation should then make it near impossible for that young boy to recognize him, Rein reasoned.
He was thankful to Chenhr for this reminder, but of course, he would never say it to this middle-aged man that had so far treated him with distaste.
Chenhr waved his arm again, and the bamboo folding fan sweeped open.
“Open your eyes, child.”
Rein, still shocked by the new information as well as his swift defeat, subconsciously obeyed.
“Do you see these inscriptions? Surely, since you have the inscription tools, you should understand what this means, right?”
Rein nodded, and tried his best to speak respectfully even though he did not like this middle-aged man.
“Yes. The tale of the Spear of Heaven.”
“Hahahaha!” Chenhr could not resist laughing with his other hand on his belly.
When he finally calmed down, he looked at Rein with pity. “That is just a tale. No one can even tell if the tale is true or not. The reality is simple! Xune, the Progenitor of Heroes--at least, that is how he is known historically-- invented inscriptions and carved them onto weapons!”
“These inscriptions could be done to either strengthen the weapon itself, or release a skill passed down by much more powerful advancers, though, of course, the stronger the skill, the more difficult it would be for the weaker user to activate it.”
“Perhaps there is some truth to the fact that he used his invention to upend the social order in his time. But nowaday, that tale is more symbolic than realistic.”
“You could say that it’s just a way for the rich and established to maintain an advantage over other advancers-- even those of a stronger realm. For, the better the inscriptions on a weapon, the more expensive it will be! Be careful of those with access to a multitude of these armaments!”
Suddenly, that magical tale didn’t feel as impressive in Rein’s eyes anymore...
Chenhr looked lovingly at his fan, which shocked Rein, mainly because Rein had only so far been presented with the monotonous and derisive Chenhr. This loving expression simply did not fit Chenhr’s face.
“This beautiful fan was gifted to me by the Master. Its uses are perfect for me. Its magical powers, sublime!”
Rein remained silent, not knowing what to say.
After a few awkward heartbeats, Chenhr snapped his oh-so-beautiful-golden-incomparable treasure bamboo folding fan shut again.
He gave a few awkward coughs, and when he spoke, his voice had returned to that measured and monotonous tone again.
“Follow me to your quarters. Your meal has already been prepared, though it is undoubtedly cold by now.”
He stepped out of the mudbrick house, and Rein quickly picked up his travel sack before following. As for the heavy hammer...the head was cracked and dented, looking like it was about to break apart any moment. There would not be much point in keeping it around any longer.
Rein stepped out of the mudbrick house, to find that it was indeed nighttime already.
As this was in the wilds, supposedly somewhere in the Bleak Mountains, there were obviously no lamps illuminating the surroundings. It was pitch black, for the moon was obscured by clouds tonight. Naturally, the clouds also prevented Rein from seeing any starlight.
Chenhr took out a metallic orb, and when he gripped the orb within the palm of his left hand while raising the orb high. The orb’s inscription pattern lit up and soon, the orb was emitting a comfortable soft yellow glow, that although was not all that bright, was enough to illuminate an area ten feet around the two figures.
“Another long-established little treasure. It has an inscription from a high tier light-based advancer. Simple but helpful, even in the face of devils. If you train yourself to force a hint of aurae to the tips of your fingers, you should be able to barely use these light orbs.”
Chenhr then started treading forward, and Rein followed. Ever since the short fight inside the mudbrick house, Rein had subconsciously grown a hint of respect for the middle-aged man.
Although the contemptuous ‘bastard’ seemed to have a talent at goading, there was no doubt that he was unique and knowledgeable.
As Rein followed Chenhr, he began wondering where Master Yirn and Chenhr had come from. Why were they occupying the Bleak Mountains?
He wanted to ask, but knew that he did not have any right to know. It was good enough that they had taken him in.
Soon, they arrived in front of a small wooden house with a thatched roof. On the surface, it looked incredibly simple, but Rein, now armed with a bit more knowledge, recognized that the wooden structure had indecipherable inscriptions snaking and winding its way across the walls.
When he entered the wooden hut, he immediately felt a sense of warmth and serenity, loosening the tension in his mind, and he realized he would very much like to have a very long rest.
He suddenly had an urge to break out in tears, but worried about being mocked by Chenhr, he suppressed that feeling and pretended nothing was wrong.
Chenhr turned to leave, in the process curling his lips and shaking his head.
That instantly helped Rein restrain his urge to cry and instead ignited a bit of the rage that he had relied on during his rampage in the Wolf Syrup Town.
Once Chenhr left, he ate the simple cold meat rice porridge that rested on a simple wooden table in the middle of the hut.
Then, he picked up a simple willow twig to clean his teeth, and wiped himself down with a cloth and a bucket of water that had long been prepared.
To his surprise, the water was warm. Once again, he noticed the bucket had some kind of inscription etched on its exterior and interior. No doubt, these inscriptions were the source of the water’s warmth.
Soon, Rein laid down on a bamboo mattress in preparation to sleep. In his hand was the elegant dagger that had a large ring-shaped crossguard. The circular ring in place of the crossguard had inscriptions winding around like a string trying to completely cover the surface of the ring.
The more he analyzed this dagger, the more he felt it was something special. The man must have stumbled onto the unique dagger during a plunder. Perhaps Master Yirn would know of its function.
Finally in a safe haven, his exhausted mind soon sunk into deep rest.