141: 130 core chips for bridging nerves (3/3, thanks to the Lord of the Holy Light Seekers!) 141: 130 core chips for bridging nerves (3/3, thanks to the Lord of the Holy Light Seekers!) Such a promise was enough, Ian saw Elder Prude’s grave expression relax.
“The tribe can no longer offer you anything.”
The youth heard the old man sigh, “You already have the Inheritance and the Seer’s Ability, and your strength is probably no less than mine—if it weren’t for your age, you would now be fully capable of walking this land alone, forging your own path.”
“I can’t hold you back either, in the end, the family hasn’t really provided you with much, and the future, for you, might still be a burden to bear…”
It wasn’t a poor attempt at sympathy, Elder Prude truly believed so—especially since he knew that Ian’s uncle these past two years, was very likely that important figure…
“Shared blood is the most basic interest, not to ntion we have lived together, and you, Elder, took decades to unite everyone into a single force.”
Ian shook his head slightly, holding imnse respect in his heart for the elder before him.
Not to ntion Elder Prude’s cooperation with Viscount Grant, which secured the White Folks’ standing in Harrison Port, he also diated many disputes among the White Folks through his personal authority and established strict, yet not oppressive, clan rules that transford the White Folks from a loose family into a closely-knit family organization.
The White Folks’ shops offered certain discounts to fellow clan mbers, and for minor illnesses or injuries, one could head to the Elder’s Hall for treatnt—serious conditions would certainly cost money, but if it was just ordinary diagnosis, there was no worry about the healers deliberately exaggerating the illness to extort dical fees.
This tacit mutual aid and the relatively amiable internal atmosphere were obviously not things that could be achieved with words alone.
Elder Prude must have put in great effort back then, even personally executing and disposing of quite a few individuals, to fully set the tone for these rules and atmosphere.
Had Ian himself taken on the task, the speed might not have been faster, and the outco probably wouldn’t have been better…
Why should he abandon a family with great potential, where he already had a certain status and authority and was the presud future heir, to start from scratch?
When Elder Prude said that the clan wasn’t much help, he was referring to personal strength—and personal strength was not what Ian sought after.
What he wanted to do…
“Brother?”
At this mont, Elan had also fully awakened.
He opened his eyes, looked around, and upon seeing that Ian had returned, he couldn’t help but cheerfully speak up, jumping down from the chair: “You’re back!”
“Yeah, I’m back.”
Opening his arms, Ian took a deep breath.
He wanted to give Elan a hug, but hesitated, aware that his clothes were covered in his semi-coagulated bloodstains.
But Elan didn’t hesitate to throw himself into his arms: “I missed you!”
Without much force, gently like a small ball of cotton—yet as he looked up, the full face of bloodstains made Ian sigh deeply: “Ah…
never mind—Elder Prude, do you have a washcloth for cleaning faces here?”
“Yes.”
After so fuss, Ian bent down, cleaned Elan’s small face, during which the boy was very well-behaved, simply staring earnestly, eyes wide, at Ian.
“It’s ti to go ho.”
Once cleaned, Ian stood up, taking Elan’s hand.
“Thank you for your care, Elder,” he said with a slight bow to Elder Prude: “I may be quite busy in the coming period…
As for Viscount Grant, please fend him off for .”
“I will,” the old man nodded, watching the two brothers hold hands, slowly walk out of the room, and down the stairs.
“Brother, where is Uncle?”
“Uncle…
has gone to a very distant place.”
“Like before, will it be a very long ti before he returns?”
“Much longer…
he might never co back.”
“Never…?”
“Ah, I haven’t taught you that word yet…”
“Brother, you seem, a bit sad…”
“I’m just a bit regretful.”
“…”
Their voices gradually lowered, beca distant, as Pude watched their figures disappear at the bottom of the stairs and greeted the guards.
They left the Elder’s Hall and walked toward their ho.
Moving away from the window, the Elder sat back down in his chair.
He rubbed the bridge of his nose, sinking into deep thought for a long while.
“Prophet…
seer.”
He murmured to himself, “In the legends of the Natives, there are often tales of shamans who foresee the future and guide their tribes.
In the past, I had thought these to be coincidences, or maybe shamanic Spirit Energy forewarnings enhanced by the Spirit Energy plants.”
“But two years ago, the Native’s prophecy predicted the arrival of a great storm, and they arranged a perfectly tid strategy…
Now that I think about it, if it hadn’t been for Ian, who might also be a seer, and that personage who intercepted the Natives, Harrison Port might truly have fallen.”
Now that Ian’s role as a prophet was confird, all the past coincidences and unexplainable instances could be accounted for.
“The foreseeing bifolia…”
Opening his eyes, the Elder of the White Folks’ gaze beca solemn, “No matter what, we need to consider how to acquire this ‘Native’s Sacred Object.'”
“I didn’t want to complicate matters unnecessarily, but now I think that this might be the opportunity to strengthen Ian’s Spirit Energy and lead our people to reclaim our glory.”
East of the city, ho.
When Ian, looking composed, brought Elan ho and shut the door, he suddenly fell to his knees, gasping for air.
“Brother?!”
Elan looked at Ian in shock as he collapsed.
He tried to help him up but was pushed away by his brother’s waving hand, “Don’t co near…
get a glass of water…
no, a bucket of water.”
The young boy always listened to his brother, but this ti he hesitated.
Eventually, seeing Ian’s pained expression as he tried to endure, Elan quickly left to fetch water.
“Cough cough…
what in the world is happening…”
Seeing his brother leave, Ian finally turned over, lying on the ground, his muscles twitching slightly.
Breathing hard, ever since his conversation with Elder Pude started, Ian had been feeling waves of scorching tremors emanating from his chest, then spreading to every nerve in his body, bringing a terrifying pain akin to being scorched by flas.
The Ancient Dragon Heart Core bequeathed to him by Hiliard emitted a soothing warmth, sustaining his body, which hadn’t ingested food for a long ti and had undergone intense fighting, allowing it to function normally.
The Heart Core itself had no issues; Hiliard made sure everything was perfect before his departure.
The Origin Quality of The Unyielding Fortress bloodline, along with the teachings passed down over the years, allowed Ian to quite quickly sense his teacher’s final Legacy that had rged into his body…
The problem definitely wasn’t with the Heart Core.
It was the nerves themselves.
“Is it…
due to the nerve damage from the Sumo Fruit Core?!”
The Sumo Fruit Core is a high-concentration nerve excitant, even more stimulating than the neural activators used by soldiers in a previous era.
It doesn’t possess addictive properties, but its dreadful toxic side effects are the cost—despite Ian’s Primordial Seed, the Sand Armor Rock Core, and the sequential detoxification by Hiliard, his nervous system had still suffered severe damage.
Yet now, those damaged nerves had largely returned to normal, just requiring one or two months of restorative waiting.
After these abnormal sensory days, he’d be able to return to full capacity.
But at this mont, another force was activating Ian’s nerves, bringing an abyss of pain.
“Wait, could it be…”
At this instant for Ian, ti seed to have fragnted into still fras.
He widened his eyes, watching rainbow-hued radiance erge from within his body and spread out, “Is it that Core Chip…
the Legacy of the Forr Emperor Yinaiga, the teacher’s Lord…”
“Is it interfacing with my nerves?!”
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