2024-04-15 15:19:45Cough...cough...
Oasis stirred, his consciousness slowly returning as he struggled to open his eyes.
Blinking against the dim light filtering through the cracks in the wooden ceiling above him, he found himself in a small, rustic shelter.
The air was heavy with the scent of herbs and earth, and the crackling of a nearby fire provided a comforting warmth.
As his senses gradually sharpened, Oasis took in his surroundings with a mixture of confusion and curiosity.
The shelter was sparsely furnished, with rough-hewn furniture crafted from sturdy timber.
Pots of healing herbs lined the shelves, their fragrant aroma permeating the air.
Through the open doorway.
Oasis caught a glimpse of the tranquil landscape beyond – rolling hills dotted with wildflowers, and the gentle murmur of the nearby Silverwater River echoing in the distance.
It was a scene of serene beauty, a stark contrast to the turmoil that had engulfed his recent memories.
Struggling to sit up, Oasis winced as a sharp pain shot through his chest. Glancing down, he saw the remnants of his torn shirt, the fabric stained with dried blood.
Gingerly touching the tender skin beneath, he felt a faint throbbing sensation, evidence of the magical energy that had surged through his body during the ordeal.
As Oasis struggled to sit up, his head spinning from the sudden movement, he couldn't help but mutter to himself.
"What in the world happened to me? That surge of magic... it felt like nothing I've ever experienced before."
Gritting his teeth against the pain in his chest, he forced himself to take slow, steady breaths.
"I must have been unconscious for quite some time," he mused aloud. "But how did I end up here?"
Pushing himself up onto shaky legs, Oasis steadied himself against the rough-hewn walls of the shelter.
His gaze drifted towards the open doorway, beckoning him towards the tranquil landscape beyond.
"Just a few steps," he murmured to himself, determination flickering in his brown eyes. "I need to understand."
But as he took a tentative step forward, his vision blurred and his legs wobbled beneath him.
With a gasp, Oasis stumbled, his hands flailing for support as he teetered on the brink of collapse.
!!!
Before he could hit the ground, a strong hand shot out, catching him by the arm and steadying him with surprising ease.
Startled, Oasis looked up to see a rugged-looking man standing beside him, his weathered face etched with concern.
"Steady there, lad," the man said, his voice gruff yet kind.
"You've been through quite an ordeal. You need to relax."
Confusion flickered in Oasis's eyes as he struggled to make sense of his surroundings.
"Where... where am I?" he stammered, his voice tinged with uncertainty.
The man regarded him with a knowing look, his gaze softened by a hint of sympathy.
"The name's Elias." he introduced himself, his voice steady and reassuring. "But most folks around here just call me Sir Elias."
"We are in Riverbend Hamlet," he replied, his voice steady.
"A small village on the outskirts of Verdantia, nestled along the banks of the Silverwater River."
Riverbend Hamlet.
The name sounded vaguely familiar to Oasis, a distant echo from the lessons he had received from Sister about the kingdom of Verdantia.
But he had never been here before, and he knew no one in this unfamiliar place.
"I don't understand," Oasis confessed, his brow furrowing with confusion. "How did I end up here? And who are you?"
Sir Elias Hawthorne's lips quirked into a wry smile.
"You've been unconscious for three days," he explained. Oasis's mind echoed with disbelief, "Three days?"
!!!
His thoughts raced to Sister, and he exclaimed aloud in concern, "Oh, Sister!" He attempted to stand, his movements urgent.
"Don't worry, she has already been notified," Sir Elias reassured him, his tone calm but reassuring.
A pang of guilt gripped Oasis's heart as he realized the worry he must have caused Sister during his absence.
"Sister..." he began, his voice faltering with concern. "She must be worried about me."
Sir Elias Hawthorne nodded understandingly, his expression filled with empathy.
"Don't fret, lad," he reassured Oasis, using Sister's real name to emphasize the familiarity between them.
"Marina has been informed of your whereabouts. She knows you're in good hands, and she was here 2 days ago. She even left some clothes for you."
Relief washed over Oasis at the thought of Sister knowing he was safe, her maternal instincts always guiding her to look out for him.
"Gratitude, Sir Elias," he said earnestly, his gratitude evident in his eyes.
Sir Elias Hawthorne chuckled softly, a twinkle of amusement dancing in his eyes.
"You've grown to be quite a fine lad, Oasis," he remarked, his voice filled with pride.
"But enough talk for now. Eat up before it gets cold. You need all the energy you can get."
With a grateful nod, Oasis turned his attention to the simple meal that Sir Elias had prepared, his stomach grumbling in anticipation.
As he ate, a sense of warmth and gratitude washed over him, mingled with a newfound sense of purpose.
Suddenly, Oasis realized the familiarity in Sir Elias's words.
"You've grown to be quite a fine lad, Oasis," he repeated in his mind.
Curiosity gnawed at Oasis as he voiced his thoughts, "Sir Elias, how do you know me? It's as if you've known me for years."
Sir Elias took a deep breath, preparing to explain the events of seven years ago that had brought them together.
"Well, lad, it's a long story," he began, recounting the night when he had found Oasis as a newborn in Riverbend Hamlet.
He explained how Oasis's parents had been murdered that same night, and how Sister had decided to move out from the orphanage and care for Oasis in her simple house, with funds provided by Sir Elias himself.
Listening intently, Oasis felt a wave of relief wash over him as Sir Elias recounted their shared history.
His doubts and fears melted away as he realized he was truly in safe hands, not abandoned or lost.
As Sir Elias finished his explanation, Oasis's mind buzzed with questions.
Who were his real parents? Why had they been murdered?
But for now, he pushed those thoughts aside, focusing on the present moment.
Sir Elias glanced at the pendant that now adorned Oasis's neck, its appearance altered since it had been unsealed.
His mind raced with thoughts of the pure magic energy that now surged through Oasis.
"And Oasis," Sir Elias added, breaking the silence that had settled between them. "What is that sparkling in your pocket?"
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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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