The hellish landscape calmed down after Zachary left. As the volcanic eruptions died down, the molten lava cooled and transformed into solid, deep black rock. The billowing smoke disappeared, causing the murky sky to clear up.
Afterwards, the scenery became mirage-like. The distant mountains faded away, vanishing like mist dissolving in the morning sun.
The world was disappearing like an illusion, but the Quartermaster’s projection instead turned corporeal. He then dropped to his knees and bowed his head.
“This servant greets the young master,” he said as he took off his mask, revealing the pale, sculpted face beneath. His black eyes glinted as he stared downwards, his face itself a mask showing no emotion.
Space warped, and a white-robed figure appeared, wearing a plain white mask. The white-robed figure cast a glance at the kneeling Quartermaster, then walked to the pedestals where Zachary’s choices had been laid out by the Tome. The Quartermaster remained still, staring at the ground.
The white-robed man approached the first pedestal where the Phoenix Fire technique fragment had once been. It was already crumbling away. Large chunks of stone broke away from it, disappearing before they reached the ground.
After inspecting it for a moment, the white-robed man’s gaze skipped past the second pedestal and onto the pedestal covered with wiggling runes.
“Steeleye,” the white-robed man said. “Why were you so harsh on the poor boy, forcing him against his will?”
The Quartermaster’s head dipped lower. “This servant was only following the young master’s wishes.”
“You were too harsh,” said the white-robed man. “Applying too much pressure will cause the jade to shatter. You should know this much. If you force him against his will like that, you will only breed resentment in him.”
“Forgive me, young master. This servant did not know better.” The Quartermaster’s voice was even. “I deserve to die.”
The Quartermaster stretched out his left arm without hesitation, then chopped down mercilessly on his shoulder joint with his right palm.
However, the white-robed man was faster. He appeared beside the Quartermaster and covered the man’s shoulder with his hand, protecting it. The savage move that should have cleanly severed off the Quartermaster’s arm bounced off instead.
“Careful now,” the white-robed man said. “You could have chopped off your arm just now. Wouldn’t that turn out to be a bother?”
The Quartermaster remained silent.
“I don’t blame you,” the white-robed man said after a moment. “The clan trained you to fight, not to plan or execute schemes. I should have given you more specific instructions.” He patted the Quartermaster’s shoulder. “It is not yet time for you to lose your arm.”
“Besides,” he said, letting go of the kneeling man and turning to stare into the distance. “You haven’t ruined the plan. No, not at all.”
Most of the scenery had long since disappeared. The volcanoes had disappeared, as had the stone pedestals, leaving no trace of their previous existence. Only a small radius of land surrounded the duo. Outside of that radius, all he could see were shimmering colors swirling in the fog.
“In the end, the boy will become the clan’s pawn—my pawn,” the white-robed man said. His smile was clear in his voice. “He cannot escape that fate.”
Eldon appeared in the cavern, tumbling onto the ground. It could have been because of a change in his mental state, or because he had just gotten more accustomed to it, but he returned to his feet after only a few seconds.
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The cavern was anything but empty. Campers appeared every second, lighting up the place with constant flashes of light. Some left immediately, but others stood in groups, presumably waiting for the rest of their teammates. Eldon glanced through what he could see of the crowd, but he couldn’t find any of his teammates.
After looking around, he turned his palm over, revealing a small green vial. It was smooth and translucent. Three yellow pills rolled around inside, their fragrances trapped within the vial. This way, he could avoid drawing unwanted attention.
How helpful would this have been during all those years? Eldon thought wistfully, looking at it.
With ample vials, he could have smuggled resources from the battleground to the Camp, speeding up his progress. Now, though, it was not particularly useful to him.
Eldon put it away. He lifted the second object he had taken from the Store—a long, weighty metal rod. He remembered the interface that appeared when he first touched it in the Store.
Item: Heavy Metal Battle Staff
Description: A crude staff made by an apprentice blacksmith. It has no inscriptions and no special abilities.
Price: Ten Tome Points.
After he purchased the pills, the Quartermaster had recommended it to him. Although it was currently too heavy for him, the Quartermaster assured him that with training, he could wield the spear effortlessly.
“The staff’s weight doesn’t impact the wielder’s skill,” he had said. “A true master of the staff will even wield the Pole of Heaven.”
Eldon doubted that any amount of skill would help him wield something he could not lift, much less some Pole of Heaven, but thankfully, Abyss Eye’s technique would make him physically stronger, solving that problem.
Eldon waited a few minutes for his teammates. When they failed to appear, he decided to leave. He had no time to waste. The others could handle themselves, but he urgently needed to gain some abilities.
However, before he left, he glanced at the Store’s entrance—at the stone gates, which were now closed.
A pill that allows a mortal to become strong…
Unending bookshelves holding vast knowledge…
The sea of radiant pills that hold unimaginable abilities…
The New World Government became increasingly horrifying to Eldon as he contemplated it. It was immeasurably deep.
Eldon’s brows furrowed. Again, the crucial question arose in his mind.
Why would the New World Government need the Campers’ help to wipe out the beasts? The Mediating Body Pills alone would allow them to assemble an army of powerful mortals.
The world would tremble at their feet if they harnessed the full potential of the Quartermaster’s Store. Monster Clans? Rebels? They would all become jokes.
A foreboding feeling engulfed Eldon as he thought of this.
Even if I gain power… even if I become stronger… can I survive this storm?
He tightened his grip on the staff. Then he tore his gaze away from the Quartermaster’s Store, leaving the cavern.
I simply need to grow stronger. The stronger I am, the higher my chances of survival.
That was all that mattered.
Eldon sat cross-legged within a training room in the Colossal Arena, staring at the vial of pills before him. Training weapons, auxiliary equipment, and even food occupied one side of the room, taking up a fifth of the total space. A small arena, perfect for individual training sessions, occupied the rest of the space.
The training room was one of the advanced training rooms in the Colossi. Limited in number, they were costly to rent, but the Government was sparing no effort in preparing them for the approaching war.
Eldon closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to restrain his agitation. The fire he had lost when he lost his abnormality was back, burning fiercer than ever. It invigorated him, raising his adrenaline.
However, he had to remain calm. He steadied himself with several deep breaths, then opened his eyes.
Reaching forward, he grabbed the vial of pills and opened it. The fragrance immediately seeped out, filling up the room. The advanced training room, however, did not allow it to leave, ensuring Eldon’s privacy.
Hesitating no further, he threw the pill into his mouth. He chewed it slowly, according to the Quartermaster’s instructions, scrunching up his face at the sour taste, before swallowing it with a gulp. The pill took effect without delay, spreading an energizing warmth through his body.
Eldon rose to his feet and moved around. He felt light, like he had been walking around decked in full-body heavy armor all his life that was only now taken off. He walked to the rack and selected a silver metal training staff. Then he closed his eyes, remembering the formula’s stances.
And then he began.
The staff moved as he willed, sending a burst of wind billowing in the arena. He wielded the staff, moving through the stances like water flowing effortlessly through a stream.
The technique seemed to rise from within him, melding perfectly with him. He entered a trance-like state, his emotions, worries, thoughts, and feelings fading away.
In that moment, only the spear remained.