2024-04-15 15:19:06A week later...
Oasis continued his clandestine training with a stick, refining his swordplay skills.
Determined to grow stronger, one morning he ventured to the nearby Silverwater River to practice in solitude, away from Sister's vigilant gaze.
The sight of water flowing in the river was soothing, and the breeze rustling through the nearby forest was invigorating.
As Oasis immersed himself in his training, he was approached by three older boys who mocked him for his lack of magical talent.
"Look at him, he thinks he's a knight training with a stick. He's talentless," one of the boys sneered, earning laughter from his companions.
Unfazed, Oasis continued his exercises, ignoring their taunts.
But one of the boys, Bozer, grew increasingly agitated by Oasis's silence.
In a fit of anger, he unleashed a poorly controlled burst of wind magic towards Oasis, intending to humiliate him.
The magic manifested in the form of a sharp arrow, hurtling towards Oasis with deadly intent.
Just as the magic arrow was about to strike him, Oasis's pendant began to glow with an ethereal light.
!!!
As the arrow of wind magic approached, the pendant released its seal, unleashing a surge of magical energy.
The magical energy surged through Oasis's body, enveloping him in a brilliant blue aura.
In that moment of crisis, Oasis's latent magical abilities awakened, triggered by the imminent danger he faced.
The magic flowed through him like a raging river, untamed and raw, seeking to protect him from harm.
The unleashed magic created a powerful shockwave that sent the boys flying backward, their bodies crashing to the ground with a resounding thud.
Oasis, caught in the midst of the magical surge, was swept away by the force of the energy, tumbling into the Silverwater River.
The river's currents churned and roiled as Oasis was carried downstream, unconscious and at the mercy of the rushing waters.
Along the riverbank where he had been training, the surrounding trees were uprooted and scattered by the force of the magical explosion, bearing witness to the extraordinary event that had just occurred.
!!!
Meanwhile, the guards patrolling the area felt the sudden surge of magic and rushed to investigate the source.
They arrived to find the three boys lying unconscious on the ground, their bodies bruised and battered.
But there was no sign of Oasis, as if he had vanished into thin air.
"Did these boys awaken a mystic beast?" one guard wondered aloud, his gaze drawn to the devastation caused by the magical explosion.
"They're lucky to be alive," another guard remarked, shaking his head in disbelief.
"Let's get them back to town and have them treated," he suggested, gesturing to his companions to help carry the injured boys.
As twilight descended upon the Silverwater River, the fishermen plying their trade along its banks near Riverbend Hamlet caught sight of a figure drifting downstream.
Rushing to investigate, they found Oasis, unconscious but still faintly breathing, his body radiating with a faint blue aura of residual magic.
Quickly recognizing the significance of their discovery, the fishermen wasted no time in transporting Oasis to the nearby herbalist in Riverbend.
The herbalist, renowned for his healing skills, was known as Sir Elias Hawthorne, a mysterious figure with a reputation for harboring secrets of the past.
As they carried the unconscious boy to Sir Elias's abode, the fishermen whispered amongst themselves, their voices tinged with a mixture of awe and apprehension.
Sir Elias was a man of great power and influence, rumored to possess knowledge of ancient magic and forgotten lore.
Entering Sir Elias's dimly lit dwelling, the fishermen laid Oasis upon a sturdy wooden table, his form illuminated by the flickering light of oil lamps.
The air was heavy with the scent of herbs and incense, lending an otherworldly atmosphere to the surroundings.
Sir Elias emerged from the shadows, his figure imposing yet shrouded in mystery.
His piercing gaze fell upon Oasis, a flicker of recognition crossing his features. For Sir Elias was no stranger to the boy lying before him.
In fact, he was the one who had found Oasis as a newborn on that fateful night seven years ago, amidst the chaos and tragedy that had befallen the cursed Artificers Guild.
With a sense of foreboding hanging in the air, Sir Elias approached Oasis's unconscious form, his hands moving with practiced precision as he began to assess the boy's condition.
As he worked, a myriad of thoughts raced through his mind, memories of that night flashing before his eyes like fragments of a long-forgotten dream.
The events of that night had remained etched in Sir Elias's memory, a haunting reminder of the darkness that lurked within the realm.
And now, as he stood in the presence of Oasis once more, he couldn't shake the feeling that their paths were destined to intertwine once again in ways they could scarcely imagine.
Checking Oasis's pulse, Sir Elias mused to himself, "What potent and pure magic." With a wave of his hand,
he melted one of the pills into liquid using his magic, then gently administered it to Oasis.
"This will help remove the chill from the water and keep him warm," he explained silently to himself.
"I know the boy. You may take your leave; he will be fine," he assured the fishermen.
Before their departure, he bestowed upon them several herbs and pills as tokens of gratitude for saving Oasis.
As they departed, the fishermen remarked among themselves,
"Sir Elias is generous. Look at the quality of these pills. Who is that kid?" They conversed until one remarked,
"Rumors have it that he has a child in Mossy Hollow." Another chided, "Stop listening to rumors, idiot!" and playfully tapped him on the back of the head.
And so, as the night deepened and the stars cast their gentle glow upon the world.
Oasis lay unconscious upon Sir Elias's table snoaring and peaceful, his fate entwined with the threads of destiny that bound him to a future filled with both peril and promise.
And in the heart of Mossy Hollow, a whisper of anticipation echoed through the air, heralding the beginning of a journey that would change the course of history forever.
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Chapter 331: Molten Rock(2).
“But if perhaps Elder wants some insight that might help with your comprehension,” Oasis said, his voice calm and respectful, “Elder can demonstrate one of your spells… or how you wield your magic.”As he spoke, his eyes shifted—briefly glowing with a piercing azure hue.It wasn’t a glow born of force, but rather of deep perception, like the sea opening its veil for a moment to show a glimpse of something ancient and boundless.A ripple of calm spiritual pressure extended outward for only a breath before vanishing.Elder Cravon noticed.He took a slow sip from his mug, the steam curling under his nose—but his thoughts were not on the tea.“So calm,” Cravon mused internally. “As if he didn’t just drop that massive news… If word got out that one of the Phoenix Clan is just roaming around like this… wouldn’t that draw danger toward him? Or… perhaps he doesn’t care. Or maybe… he trusts that I won’t share it.”The old mage let out a soft sigh through his nose, quietly grounding himself.He
Chapter 330: Molten Rock.
Molten Rock City – Elder Cravon's ManorNestled on a glowing hillside of black volcanic stone, Elder Cravon’s manor stood proudly against the searing winds of Molten Rock City.The estate was a rare blend of nature and fire-forged elegance. The perimeter bloomed with radiant orange and crimson herbs, their edges pulsing gently with fire mana.These rare plants weren’t just ornamental—each one absorbed ambient fire energy, stabilizing the surrounding mana flow.Ember-leafed trees cast dancing shadows, and patches of green grasses sparkled faintly under the sun, each strand attuned to fire affinity.Inside the manor, within a stately chamber adorned with charred-wood panels and glowing crystal sconces, a massive obsidian dining table dominated the room.At it sat Oasis Volacris and his retainers—Du Shiye and Venak Zephyrine—devouring their meal like wolves fresh from battle.The roasted meats, steaming dumplings, and fire-spiced broths vanished rapidly before them, startling the manor’s
Chapter 329: Colen of the Rotten Tales.
The Aftershock of LightFor the rest of the night, until the first light of dawn kissed the edge of the Ignis Vale horizon, no soul who witnessed the blinding light from Oasis’s spell found sleep.Fear and awe gripped the hearts of warriors, merchants, cultivators, and commoners alike.The heavens had been torn open—at least, that’s how it felt.Those who had seen it with their own eyes whispered tales in hushed voices, while those who slept through it awoke to absurd rumors that danced between divinity and madness.A Roadside Inn, Ignis Vale—Black Magma VicinityIn a smoky roadside inn where the scent of roasted lamb clung to the rafters and the floor creaked with the weight of too many boots, a skinny man stood atop a wobbly oak table.His straw sandals were frayed.His conical hat sagged at the tip.And tucked into the sash at his waist, a chipped wooden gourd sloshed with local rice wine.A chewed twig hung from the corner of his lip, bobbing with every exaggerated word he spoke.
Chapter 328: What… did I just witness?
In the dead of night—A night that, for an instant, had turned to day beneath Oasis’s radiance.Across a hundred-kilometer radius, mystic beasts howled.Cultivators seated in deep meditation stirred, their eyes snapping open in stunned silence.They felt it—the martial aura in the sky—vast, ancient, and consuming.Even those mid-breakthrough faltered, distracted by the sudden shift in the heavens.From the fortress garrisons of Ignis Vale to the guarded walls of cities, towns, and distant border villages under the Black Magma City territories, soldiers stopped.Patrolling guards froze where they stood. Their eyes tilted skyward as a light—emerald and cyan—bathed the earth.A hot breeze brushed past, paradoxically calming despite its fire-born origin.An elder pouring night tea paused, teapot tilted.The cup below overflowed unnoticed.The tranquil breeze had become sacred, the stars forgotten under Oasis’s conjured dawn.In roadside inns, candle-lit and brimming with laughter, mid-con
Chapter 327: Nirvana Ascension.
Each of the seven standing atop the earth pillars—Protected by Oasis—stared with wide eyes, hearts pounding as a warm, radiant dome of energy enveloped them.The malevolent, leeching tendrils of cursed mana that had been creeping toward them from Rex's floating spell were now halted, dissipating harmlessly against the Cyan-blue shell that shimmered with phoenix-like feathers of light.For a brief moment in the eye of devastation, relief washed over their bodies like a sacred tide.The air was no longer thick with decay, but filled with calm, like standing beneath a protective sun in a still world.Venak and Du Shiye exchanged knowing glances—they had seen this before.Oasis's barrier magic, subtle yet celestial, wasn't merely defensive; it soothed the soul, repelling even unnatural corruption.While they braced themselves with resolve, the other five had no such reference point.Murmurs erupted, soft at first, then incredulous."What is this…? barrier magic?"“What kind of barrier is
Chapter 326: Primordial Suppression.
“Dragon Ascension – First Form.”Oasis’s voice rang like the toll of a divine bell, and in the next instant, the world around him shifted.A wave of oppressive mana erupted from his body like a breaking dam, rippling through the battlefield with devastating pressure. The very air trembled. Gravity twisted unnaturally, and the battlefield sank under the invisible weight. Rocks cracked and the atmosphere became denser, as if the heavens themselves were bending toward Oasis in acknowledgment—or fear.His pupils contracted into vertical slits, glowing brighter, icy azure becoming molten light. Slowly, his dark hair began to shimmer, the strands shifting from shadowy black to deep emerald, each one edged in glowing cyan that pulsed with life. Energy arced from his body in sharp, controlled bursts like wild lightning trying to escape.Then came the horns.Two elegant, cyan-colored horns curled forward from his forehead, not brutish or jagged, but regal—divine. His fingers twisted into
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