Eighty-nine: The One Who Had Long Since Died (4,000)

Take it and study it carefully. Come to me once every five days, and I will check your progress.

Omega lifted a hand and pointed. In the air, the thorn blossom turned from illusion into substance and fell into Xiunan’s palm with a crisp click.

It was heavy and cold, like a bronze model of a thorn flower.

A moment later, Xiunan and Floating Ice respectfully withdrew from the study and headed toward the southeast side of the central district.

Back in the study, Omega picked up his pen and began reworking his draft. But after writing for a while, he grew restless, rose to his feet, and walked over to the nearby bookshelf.

From some hidden corner, he drew out a dusty, thick black leather book and returned to his chair.

Slowly, he opened it. On the yellowed pages were the rune inheritances passed down through the Omega family for generations, as well as all manner of forbidden arts, secret arts, esoteric knowledge gathered from across the world, and suspected locations of certain mythic ruins.

Among them was the thorn blossom rune, discovered by Omega’s ancestor within a mysterious ruin.

It had been preserved as a core inheritance of the Omega family. The thorn blossom rune possessed extraordinarily powerful effects, and it could continue to grow stronger. From a single blossom to nine, it comprised nine stages in all, and the further it advanced, the more formidable its amplification became, in both study and combat.

Because of this, the Omega family became one of the greatest houses in the supernatural world. Yet gain and loss are always entwined. The family had obtained immense power, but every core member seemed to be cursed, doomed to a tragically short life.

Nearly all of them, not long after entering their era of brilliance, chose to kill themselves at the very height of their ascent.

Perhaps a few survived, but Omega’s father and grandfather had both taken their own lives during their most glorious years.

In his own time, Omega had once believed he too would meet the same fate. The cause of suicide was invisible and intangible, impossible to explain, impossible to avoid.

But during one of his journeys, he encountered the White Saint. Before that sage whose wisdom and virtue rivaled the sages of myth, Omega voiced his doubts.

Unexpectedly, the Saint of White truly answered him.

The root of everything lay in the thorn blossom rune the Omega family had inherited. It indeed bestowed terrifying learning ability and battle amplification upon the line of Omega, but everything it gave came at a price. At first, practicing the rune seemed harmless, but as one delved deeper, the flowers continued to bloom, one after another.

Those who mastered the thorn blossom rune would grow increasingly extreme, their ability to regulate emotion steadily worsening. And they would unavoidably develop self-destructive tendencies, even suicidal ones.

The White Saint said that if runes had attributes, then the thorn blossom rune represented "evil." It could bring certain benefits to its wielder, but it also demanded its own kind of interest.

The other two were "holy" and "demonic." One was pure order, a means to reap enormous gains when used. The other was nothing but a trap, leaning toward chaos and destruction.

Ordinary runes did not possess such directional attributes. It was usually relics from the age of myth, unearthed from mysterious places, that carried this kind of strange aura.

The way to regulate oneself was simple enough: stop delving into the thorn blossom rune. One had to let go of the craving for power and turn one’s attention elsewhere, easing the turmoil within.

At the time, Omega had already reached the six-blossom stage, only half a step away from the next great threshold. Yet he still suppressed his desire and from then on followed the White Saint.

In the years that followed, Omega turned his attention to rune crafting. With his formidable capacity for learning, he raised his mastery of every branch of rune making to a towering level, earning the name of a Saint.

He also asked the White Saint to revise and prune the thorn blossom rune, reducing its upper limit from nine blossoms to six.

Though its various effects were greatly diminished, the influence it exerted on new learners was also greatly reduced.

Omega began taking disciples again and gradually gathered nine students. Together with a few like-minded companions, he founded the Milodalen School, forming a loose organization. Little by little, he also distanced himself from the Omega family.

Everything had been going well enough, until five years ago, after an enormous meteor storm, things began to change.

His disciples started killing themselves one after another, collapsing into self-destruction in succession. In just a few years, the original nine were reduced to only three. Under the White Saint’s guidance, Omega began counseling his students.

He encouraged them to cultivate hobbies that let them vent their emotions. The eldest disciple, Floating Ice, became even more obsessed with mutant runes. Green Vine began creating all sorts of grotesque flesh-based creatures.

Green Bat, meanwhile, became engrossed in primitive ways of eating.

All of them were eccentric habits, but they did stabilize their emotions.

Afterward, Omega asked the White Saint why such things were happening. The White Saint, who was said to know everything, fell into rare silence and only once again revised the thorn blossom rune for him.

The rune Xiunan received was this very thorn blossom rune.

Omega let out a long sigh.

He copied down a numerical support rune, then closed the book and returned it to its original place.

Turning back toward the desk, he did not notice that in the gaps between the thick black pages, a rune had quietly begun to flicker with a red glow.

On the other side, in a private room, Xiunan looked down at the thorn blossom rune in his hand, faintly shimmering red, and frowned. For some reason, the rune felt oddly sinister. It gave off an overall sense of discomfort.

He sat beside a desk of black wood. Overhead, the ceiling was dotted with fist-sized white stone spheres. These spheres served as lights, imitating natural daylight. To turn them on or off, one merely had to press the rune on the wall.

In that glow, Xiunan pressed his hand to the rune.

He began to observe and study the rune’s underlying structure, and soon his mind sank into it.

The effect of his Disciplined Life allowed him to conduct research at thirty times normal speed. As for the thirty-five-day deadline Omega had mentioned, he did not take it very seriously, because Xiunan felt that if he put in a little effort, he could probably work it out in a few days.

As his thoughts sank deeper, all before him became blackness.

Gradually, thorns grew wildly within that darkness. No one knew how long passed before the entire space seemed to be covered in them. They became the earth, the sea, the sky, even the sun and moon.

Ash gray, emerald green, molten lava hues...

Thorns of every shape and form were there, as if this were a grand jumble containing every possible combination.

Xiunan was surrounded by a sea of thorns.

The thorny branches writhed like waves, pushing him layer upon layer toward the very center of the ocean.

Rushing and whispering, the thorns withdrew. Xiunan vaguely opened his eyes, and at once his gaze was seized by the beauty before him. It was a thorn blossom forged in bronze.

A massive root plunged into the darkness, while countless branches spread densely outward around it. On the single thick main stem, four thorn blossoms were in bud, on the verge of opening.

As he looked toward the first blossom on the left, a vast amount of complex information surged into his mind.

Xiunan closed his eyes and sat cross-legged.

He did not know how much time had passed before the motionless thorn blossom began to tremble, and a faint red radiance spread outward.

Silently, another blossom grew beside the fourth. Then came the sixth, the seventh... until nine thorn blossoms stood there in complete and perfect form.

Only then did that red glow slowly recede.

A moment later, Xiunan opened his eyes.

"So complicated. It feels completely different from ordinary ring-beast runes."

A comparison formed in his mind.

"Hm? I remember there were only four blossoms at first. How did it become nine?" Xiunan blinked, though he did not dwell on it.

Knock, knock, knock... knock, knock, knock...

A faint knocking came from outside.

The moment he realized it, his entire field of vision snapped out of that black space.

"Don, come eat first, and after that take a bath... Then we can have a good talk. Maybe I can help you..."

Floating Ice's cool voice came from beyond the door.

"All right, Senior Brother. I’m coming now."

Xiunan set down the model in his hand and stood.

This was the benefit of being on good terms with someone: those who looked favorably upon you would naturally help you. Though Xiunan was confident he could complete the test, he would not object to having less time.

Floating Ice’s experience would let him learn faster.

After a quick tidy-up, Xiunan opened the door.

Floating Ice, wrapped in a cloak, met his gaze.

"Come, I’ll show you where to eat..."

The two of them followed the corridor and soon reached a spacious hall. It was mealtime, and there were quite a few people inside—at least a hundred all told.

The moment Floating Ice and Xiunan appeared, many of the school’s secret-rune masters turned to look at them. Some fixed their eyes on Xiunan, the unfamiliar face, while even more gazed at Floating Ice with complicated expressions.

Neither of them paid the attention any mind. Xiunan simply followed Floating Ice and collected his midday meal.

Two yellow loaves of bread, a large mound of white mashed turnip, some suspicious black meat... and a slab of jelly?

"What in the world is this?"

Xiunan hesitated, extending his hand. After a long pause, he finally picked up the most familiar-looking item, the bread, and bit down hard.

"Ow!"

He nearly knocked out his own front tooth.

The bread was absurdly hard, like a stone.

"Haha, Don, what are you doing?" Floating Ice laughed, then picked up his own bread.

"This is the seasoning. You have to press the middle."

With a light tap, a grayish-brown powder fell out, and a fragrance immediately filled the air.

He picked up another loaf and pressed the rune again.

A creamy liquid slowly dripped down, forming a Z-shaped line over the black meat cutlet.

"This is seasoning? Then why make it look like a soft loaf of bread?"

Xiunan was thoroughly baffled.

"What is bread?"

Floating Ice was equally confused, but continued explaining.

"It only looks soft because the outer skin can directly absorb the seasoning and lock it inside. Toss it into the seasoning vat and in half a second it soaks it all up, then keeps it for a very long time. But in fact, the outer crust is quite hard..."

"All right."

Xiunan lowered his head and began to eat.

"You still haven’t told me what bread is."

Floating Ice’s refined face was full of curiosity.

"Well... bread is... a specialty food from my hometown..." Xiunan brushed it off casually, and Floating Ice did not keep pressing the matter.

The two of them chatted here and there, though mostly it was Floating Ice asking questions while Xiunan kept his head down and ate. Truth be told, the black meat cutlet was quite tasty, with very tender flesh.

Just as he finished the cutlet, he looked up and suddenly felt that the atmosphere was not quite right.

Half the people in the hall were looking this way, their expressions somewhat terrifying.

Adoration? Fear? Jealousy? Envy? Pity?

A whole range of emotions was there, and they all belonged to men.

"Wait... could my senior brother really be some kind of social butterfly?"

Xiunan glanced over Floating Ice’s head at the people around them.

There were young men, balding middle-aged men, and elderly professors...

"What are you looking at?"

A faint smile appeared on Floating Ice’s refined, pale face, his eyes and brows fox-like.

"Nothing. I’m full," Xiunan replied.

"Good, so am I. Then let’s take a walk and go soak in the bath."

Floating Ice slowly stood up.

"Take a bath?!"

"That kid..."

"I could too..."

Xiunan faintly heard people nearby repeating certain words in a voice that sounded through clenched teeth.

He hurriedly stood as well and followed Floating Ice’s lean back, quickly leaving the hall, whose atmosphere had grown strangely tense.

Ten minutes later, mist rose and steam drifted everywhere.

Within a basin of hot water, Xiunan and Floating Ice rested their arms on the edge, towels draped around their necks as they soaked.

The place was somewhat like an ancient Roman setting, with many towering pillars visible at a glance.

"Don, help me scrub my back."

Floating Ice handed the towel to Xiunan.

"Sure."

Xiunan agreed readily.

Floating Ice turned around, revealing a slender, pale back. His frame was a little smaller than that of an average young man. Across his skin were twisted dark-blue runes, looking like dense clusters of leeches biting into the surface.

"Hm? Senior Brother, where is your secret ring?"

Xiunan suddenly realized there was no trace of a secret ring on Floating Ice’s back at all, only an unusually smooth expanse descending downward.

"Feel it."

Floating Ice reached back with one hand and pointed to his back.

Xiunan pressed a cautious hand against it, and in a place that should have been empty, he found a protrusion. Sweeping over it quickly with both hands, a ring-like shape formed in his mind.

Floating Ice’s secret ring was still there, but it could no longer be seen.

"What happened?"

"I don’t know. Ever since that explosion, my secret ring has been invisible. You should have felt it just now. My secret ring is even broken..."

Floating Ice grasped his right shoulder with his left hand and turned his head back toward Xiunan. His expression seemed to carry a trace of sorrow.

"A broken secret ring... doesn’t that mean..."

Xiunan frowned.

"Yes. The teacher said I was already dead. I died in that explosion more than ten years ago. It’s just that my death was left behind in that mysterious space, and some strange force brought my consciousness back to life..."

Floating Ice spoke of his experience word by word.

"The teacher once took me to meet the White Saint. The White Saint said I was soil. A seed had been planted in my body, waiting for the right moment to sprout..."