The door closed, and the room imdiately quieted down.
Lambert stood by the bedside, still carrying a hint of unease on his face, and spoke:
"My lord, how do you feel? Is there any discomfort?"
He had never seen Louis in such a state—hit between the brows, falling straight down, life and death uncertain...
To him, this was the most terrifying scene he had ever witnessed, accompanied by endless self-bla.
Louis raised his hand to rub his temples, feeling that everything was normal with his body.
But deep in his mind, there was a new heart-shaped imprint.
"I guess there’s nothing wrong." He said in a low voice, "Can you tell roughly what happened?"
Lambert imdiately reported everything he knew in detail:
"We were heading north with you, and the scouts ahead found an old man collapsed in the snow, with strange cracks on his chest.
...
Then the old man was consud by the cracks on his chest, disintegrating and disappearing, leaving only a robe behind.
You were unconscious at the ti, so we imdiately brought you back for examination... both your body and Fighting Energy were normal. I suspect it’s so kind of curse."
Lambert succinctly recounted what he saw and knew, his expression full of worry.
Louis just listened, nodding slightly: "The first part... matches what I rember."
Yet it brought more questions to his mind.
If that mage was truly the legendary Jurgen Locke, then how could he have lived for so long.
Why was he in the Snowfield of the Red Tide Territory?
And why did he die so strangely?
What exactly was that lightwave that penetrated his mind?
Were the images he saw while unconscious... his mories? Or was it so information?
Questions arose one after another, pricking his mind like needles.
Louis frowned, reaching up to rub his temples.
"Forget it, let’s take it one at a ti." He shook his head, trying to suppress those stray thoughts.
"Who knows about this?" He looked up at Lambert.
Lambert nodded: "When you collapsed, many people saw it when we returned to the territory. But as for the mage’s matter... only a few knights who traveled with us know about it for now."
"Keep it sealed." Louis’s tone was calm, yet indisputable.
"Yes." Lambert imdiately replied, "I will handle it properly."
Louis then asked, "By the way, how long was I... out?"
"Well... actually it wasn’t long, about a day."
"I see..." Louis replied softly, thoughtfully nodding his head.
The atmosphere beca quiet for a mont.
Louis then continued, "You’ve worked hard, take your leave, I want to be alone for a while."
Lambert nodded, bowed, and withdrew.
The room beca quiet once again.
Louis leaned against the edge of the bed, his gaze deepening.
The questions in his mind hadn’t lessened; instead, they weighed heavier and heavier.
"I hope within this... I’ll find so answers." He slowly raised his hand, gesturing lightly in the air.
A semi-transparent interface appeared before him, rippling like water, as words rapidly flashed and arranged themselves.
Today’s intelligence amounted to only two pieces.
[1: In seven days, Snow Peak County will completely enter a period of extre cold, accompanied by an expected blizzard invasion.]
[2: Grand Mage Jurgen Locke has passed on the ’Primordial Heart’ and ’Primordial ditation Technique’ to Louis Calvin, subsequently being devoured by a Void Worm.]
When seeing the first entry, Louis didn’t even frown.
He had already made arrangents for this, with all cold-prevention asures in place.
Bradley could execute the plan accordingly without needing his concern.
His gaze moved directly to the second entry.
This was the part he was most concerned about now.
This brief system announcent threw out three completely unfamiliar terms: ’Primordial Heart’, ’Primordial ditation Technique’, ’Void Worm’.
Among them, the ’Primordial Heart’ was probably the heart-shaped imprint in his mind.
But what exactly was its use?
Was it a seed of power? A seal? Or so kind of inheritance vessel? Or a curse? He had no idea.
"Could this useless system stop being so cryptic?" Louis muttered under his breath.
"Would it kill you to be clearer? If it had been clear from the start, would I have ended up going over there to let that old man spit on and knock out?"
Yet no matter how much he complained, the system remained cold and silent, offering no additional information.
He secretly clenched his teeth, restraining the impulse to continue cursing the system, and instead focused his attention on the term ’Primordial ditation Technique’.
These words faintly reminded him of a certain fragnt in his dream.
Amidst those chaotic, unfathomable mories, only that scene was exceptionally clear.
Atop a mountain peak, a black-haired youth sat cross-legged amid the wind and snow, surrounded by dozens of listeners also sitting cross-legged.
His tone was calm, describing a cultivation thod that combined breathing rhythms and awareness regulation.
"So... that was the ’Primordial ditation Technique’?" Louis murmured softly.
He forced himself to calm down, recalling the youth’s words, rhythms, and movents.
Then he tried to replicate them.
Unexpectedly, he succeeded on the very first try.
An indescribable sense of tranquility quietly rose within him.
His thoughts seed to sink beneath a layer of transparent water, as the sounds of the outside world gradually drifted away, and the sounds of his heartbeat, breathing, and snow falling on branches all faded.
At the sa ti, the heart-shaped imprint in his mind subtly emitted a faint glow.
Unlike the Breathing Technique for Fighting Energy, the Primordial ditation Technique was gentler, emphasizing guidance rather than training;
It was "leading water to the pool," rather than "digging mountains to store springs."
Although Louis had never received any education about magic,
he vaguely felt that this so-called ditation Technique was essentially a key to activating a magic power inheritance.
It wasn’t like the Fighting Energy Breathing Technique, which required forcibly compressing and integrating Primordial Energy into the body’s bloodstream.
Fighting Energy was about tempering the flesh, using one’s blood and flesh as weapons and bones as scabbards,
with practitioners channeling the "Primordial Energy" between heaven and earth into their bloodline, forging it into a power system that perates the whole body.
But ditation was different.
It was a form of spiritual guidance, akin to threading consciousness like a fine string through the limitless tides of magic power.
Only when the mind is sufficiently focused and ethereal will the magic power hovering in the gaps of the world quietly approach.
It’s not about forcefully pulling, but achieving "resonance."
Once the resonance is established, the magic power flows into consciousness like water,
being guided and shaped, ultimately becoming the foundation of techniques and the true source of magic.
Louis finally understood.
Fighting Energy is a power "seized" by the flesh.
The ditation Technique is a power "listened to" by the consciousness.
These are two distinctly different paths, yet at the very beginning—at the level of "harmonizing breath and thought"—they bear a striking similarity.
Louis pondered: "Perhaps, they were originally techniques from the sa source, only later diverging, evolving along different paths."
Thus, Louis made a decision.
In the future, aside from practicing the Tidal Fighting Qi Technique daily, he would also make ti to cultivate the Primordial ditation Technique.
Perhaps he could truly embark on a path of dual cultivation.
Perhaps one day, he not only would charge into battle with a blade but also command thunder and fire with a wave, becoming an Otherworldly Gandalf.
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