So many things had happened in such a short amount of time, causing a chain reaction that would shape Zilan’s near future.
First of, was the Universe’s energy strengthening both his mind and body which then led to two marks of tribulation being shed off from his wrist.
Last time when he shed off the first mark of tribulation, his cultivation had soared from the estimated 40th level to the 45th however, now with two additional marks having been shed Zilan’s cultivation soared to an estimated 55th level of the Tempering stage.
When he had first broken through and attained the ability to cultivate once again, Zilan experienced a painful headache. This headache was due to the spell he was under, taking a major shock to its foundation. After all, with a sudden increase in strength not to even mention a dramatic one like a cripple to a powerful practitioner, any spell would come under attack by the body’s improved defence system.
However because of the strength of the caster, the spell still managed to hold on, remaining in effect. Unfortunately though, Zilan’s suspiciously “lucky” encounter had enabled him to unexpectedly advance once again and this time the spell could no longer handle the barrage especially since Zilan’s mental strength had suddenly sky rocketed.
Good fortune can in some instances be no better than a torturous curse.
The spell itself was a Heavenly one, or more accurately an Ancient one that held both mysterious and extremely powerful effects.
Unfortunately or in Zilan’s case fortunately, such spells also had limits. For example in the case of this spell, the caster needed to be at least fifty levels higher than the victim.
The spells name, [Dream shift]. It’s ability? To alter and corrupt memories.
Nine years ago,
Zilan gently laid his head down on his father’s chest as an endless stream of tears continued to flow down his face.
He wanted to stay, mourn the death of his parents and then give Velman a proper burial however, his current situation allowed him no time to waste.
A promise to his dying father was made, one that he did not intend to break.
“Father, I’m sorry.” were Zilan’s last words as he struggled to stand on his two feet.
While clutching his stomach, one step at a time the young Zilan started making his way towards his Uncle’s house.
He had only been there a few times when he was a toddler, when his family and his uncle were still on good terms.
Zilan didn’t know what the dispute was about but surely his father wouldn’t send him there now if it was anything unforgivable.
As thoughts of the lonely uncle who lived in seclusion, never took a wife and had no children whatsoever floated in Zilan’s mind, his feet began to pick up pace and the word “uncle” was repeated by him over and over again.
In his mind, his uncle’s house was no different to Heaven thus a single-minded goal of getting there was born, firmly implanting itself into his brain. Even if he was at the edge of death but still managed to arrive at his uncle’s doorstep Zilan wholeheartedly believed he would still be saved. Of course, this was not true but he needed to tell himself this in order to bare the pain and keep moving forward.
“As long as I can get there everything will be fine.”
An hour later and Zilan finally spotted his uncle’s house. Surprisingly, the man himself was already standing at his front door as if waiting for something.
When he spotted Zilan hobbling towards him, he instantly became elated and rushed towards him.
Now that his goal was seemingly complete, Zilan’s body finally lost all strength and with a “Buuff” sound, he finally collapsed.
An unknown amount of time passed before Zilan, still groggy regained consciousness.
He was lying on a bed made of beast skins in a small room the size of three Zilan’s standing straight with their arms stretched out.
“Uncle?” He tried calling out however his throat was dry and clogged.
He then threw off the covers as he moved to get up.
The ringing sound of metal grinding against the floor quickly caught Zilan’s attention and once he saw the origin of the sound, his heart seemed to stop for a second, fear accompanied by extreme anxiety that he thought had been dispelled also re-surfaced.
A three metre long chain shackle that was connected to the wall, tightly gripped Zilan’s right leg.
“What’s going on?”
Thanks to the adrenaline the grogginess as well as fatigue were gone for now, so Zilan slowly and discreetly lifted up the chain, rolling it up while also making sure to make as little noise as humanly possible.
Once he had it all rolled up in his arms, Zilan carefully crept up to the door and peeked through the tiny key hole.
What he saw almost made him shout out however, luckily he managed to restrain himself.
Standing in the middle of his uncle’s house was the red robed old man who was not only responsible for killing Zilan’s father but also crippling him.
Seeing the man up close, made Zilan’s blood boil in rage and a thirst for revenge instantly sparked from deep within him. However he was no fool, if even his father perished so easily there was virtually no hope for him, a cripple, to do anything at all.
Not to mention, he barely understood anything that was going on. “Why was everyone killed?”
“Honourable High Priest, I guarantee the child has the potential. I was foolish all those years ago..yes..Velman forced me into it..b..but now, with this I think I’ve more than made it worth your while. So..so for my reward I just want one of the older ones_….”
“Quiet!” commanded the red robed High Priest.
Zilan watched wide eyed at the scene playing out before him. What did his uncle’s words mean? He just admitted to being the culprit who sent a storm of fire towards his own family! With only those few words and the appearance of the High Priest, the safe haven he had longed to get to had quickly turned into a hell, that he could no longer escape.
Suddenly the High Priest stretched out his hand and a green sphere of energy floated out of his palm. A moment later, and the green sphere suddenly took the shape of a person’s face.
The man appeared young with long bound hair, a pair of cold calculating eyes and a light smile that was clearly masking his true face.
“Did you find them?” asked the floating face.
“Yes, Velman is dead. He used a divine ability to hinder me from killing his son and almost succeeded, but it was the traitor Hugli who captured the evil one. I’ll deal with it soon.” Replied the red robed High Priest.
“Oh! Hugli? The one who helped Velman and that woman escape?”
Hearing this Hugli knew that things weren’t going well for him,
“Exalted High Priest, I was tricked…no…I was trying to aid in our Order’s life long pursuit! The child he can already open a scorched gate! If we….”
“What!? I see….Jibral don’t kill it yet, bring the thing here as soon as possible! As for everything else, I’ll leave it all to you.” The floating face immediately vanished after saying that.
Jibral looked at Hugli and blinked once,
“Back then, I thought I could change that boys ways but I was truly foolish. What is evil can never work in consort with the light!
You on the other hand were a member of the Order if it was before, the Eternal Void would have been your home.”
Upon mention of the Eternal void, Hugli’s eyes went red and his body instantly broke out into a cold sweat.
“However, you’ve done a great merit this time so I will absolve you of your past crimes and give you an honourable death.”
“Wait…Esteemed High Priest, I’ve brought you the perfect sample. He can open a scorched gate at such a young age! When in history….even God….”
Before he could finish his mumbling, Hugli’s head was disconnected from his body. The strike was so fast that he didn’t even see it coming.
Jibral was expressionless as he turned to face the room Zilan was being kept in,
“If it was up to me, I would end your life this instant.” said Jibral as he stared at Zilan’s eye from the key hole.
“What your father and his village did is unforgivable! However, I can rest easy knowing Hertic will be the one looking after you, his dislike for your kind is even greater than my own. Even if he….”
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