Back at the sa volcanic plains where Max had once endured months of agony under the relentless training of the giant dwarves, silence now reigned. The air shimred faintly with heat rising from the blackened ground, and the distant roar of molten lava echoed like a deep heartbeat beneath the earth. The old training ground—where Max had been beaten, broken, and reforged into sothing far stronger—was almost unrecognizable in its stillness. The scorched marks and shattered stones still bore the remnants of his suffering, each one a reminder of the tornt he had survived.
Now, only two figures stood there. Max, calm and resolute, and opposite him, Tribal Lord Igris—once Chief Igris—now draped in an intricate black and bronze armor lined with golden runes that glowed faintly under the violet sky.
His presence radiated power and authority, yet there was sothing deeper in his gaze—sothing ancient, as though he carried the weight of countless generations upon his shoulders.
The two stood in silence for a mont.
At last, Igris spoke. His deep, gravelly voice carried a solemn tone. "There is a technique to open the Seven Divine Veins," he said slowly, his eyes fixed on Max. "But that technique has long been lost to this universe. Countless eras have passed since it was last seen or practiced. Only a handful of ancient powers still rember fragnts of it, and even then, their knowledge is incomplete. The technique in its entirety no longer exists anywhere—except here."
He paused, letting his words sink into the quiet air. His gaze drifted toward the horizon, where the faint outline of their village could still be seen in the distance.
"We, the giant dwarves, have preserved this technique as our sacred treasure," Igris continued, his tone deepening with reverence. "It is the foundation of our tribe's existence. Since the earliest days, when the first of our kind was forged in the flas of the Violet Core Volcano, this technique has been passed down from generation to generation. It was entrusted only to one—the Tribal Lord."
He looked back at Max, his expression grave. "Every Tribal Lord throughout history has borne two responsibilities. The first is to protect the tribe and guide our people through every calamity. The second is to guard this sacred technique, ensuring that it is never lost or misused. For it carries both creation and destruction within it. The Seven Divine Veins are not rely a body cultivation thod, Max—they are the essence of divine embodint itself."
His heavy footsteps echoed faintly as he began pacing slowly, his eyes filled with distant mories. "The reason this technique was erased from the rest of the universe is because it defies the natural laws that govern life and also because it has been too long since one had opened the complete seven divine veins in their body. The opening of the Seven Divine Veins is the process of transforming mortal flesh into divine matter. Each vein that opens reconstructs your existence, reshaping your bones, your blood, your soul, and even your will. Those who cannot endure the transformation will have their bodies torn apart and their essence erased completely. That is why no one dares to attempt it anymore."
He turned back toward Max, the faint light of molten fire reflecting in his eyes. "We, the giant dwarves, were born to withstand the flas of the world's core. Our bodies were molded by heat and pressure. That is the only reason we have preserved this knowledge. But even among us, no one has successfully opened more than three Divine Veins in the last several thousand years. To open all seven is sothing that has not been achieved since the age when the gods still walked among mortals."
Max remained silent, listening intently. His gaze was fixed on Igris, his expression calm but his heart thundering beneath the surface.
Igris continued, "I am giving this technique to you because you have proven yourself worthy. You did not just pass the test of strength; you moved the black cube—a feat that not even our ancestors could accomplish after years of training. You withstood the weight of the mountain and survived the flas of our forging. Your body, though human, carries sothing extraordinary within it. That is why I believe you are the only one who can succeed where the rest of us have failed."
He extended his hand toward Max, and a faint golden rune appeared in his palm. The rune twisted slowly in the air, pulsing with an ancient rhythm like a living heartbeat.
"This rune contains the thod of the Seven Divine Veins," Igris said quietly. "Once you accept it, the knowledge will beco part of your soul. But rember this, Max—once you begin this path, you can never turn back. The process of awakening the first vein will tear your body apart, and if your will falters even for an instant, you will cease to exist. Do you still wish to walk this path?"
Max's eyes glowed faintly under the violet sky. He didn't hesitate. "I do."
Tribal Lord Igris watched him for a mont longer, then gave a slow, approving nod. "Very well," he said, his voice deep with finality. "Then prepare yourself, Max Voidwalker. From this day forth, your mortal body will no longer remain the sa. You will begin the journey of divine transformation—the path of the Seven Divine Veins."
He raised his hand, and the golden rune began to drift forward, spinning faster as it floated toward Max. The ancient energy within it humd like the heartbeat of the earth itself.
As the rune touched Max's chest, a surge of heat flooded his entire being. The air around them shimred, and the ground beneath his feet cracked from the pressure. The faint sound of energy pulsing through his veins echoed in the silence as the ancient knowledge began to carve itself into his soul.
Tribal Lord Igris stood before him with a proud, solemn look. "Let the forging begin," he said quietly. "Let the mortal shell break—and let the divine form rise."
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