The Legend of Dungsworth

4. Old hut

“Divine Staff!”

Whooosh! Whooosh! Whooosh!

From above, the wooden staff spun rapidly as it descended into Quincy’s hand.

Snap!

The boy caught it and began swinging with excitement.

“I can show you a few basic techniques, if you wish,” the Divine Staff spoke.

“Really? Of course I want to learn! Please, show me! I’m so excited!”

“Sit. Close your eyes.”

Quincy obeyed. He sat cross-legged, eyes shut. In his mind, a dark silhouette appeared, demonstrating a sequence of movements.

Moments later, Quincy’s eyes flew open. His body moved instinctively, repeating the technique as if it had been carved directly into his memory.

With surprising agility, he swung the staff again and again. Then, channeling all his energy, he unleashed the technique:

The Rampaging Staff.

Whooosh! Whooosh! Whooosh!

The weapon spun vertically like a massive shuriken, slashing horizontally across the trunk of a giant tree. With a loud crack, the tree toppled, and the staff returned to Quincy’s grip—shredding the fallen trunk into neat chunks of firewood.

Huff!

The move drained his stamina; Quincy’s skinny frame trembled with fatigue. As the dust settled, eerie noises echoed through the Forsaken Courtyard.

Groaaaaaa! Groaaa!

Uuuuuuugh… Aaaaaaaargh!

The once-still air howled violently. A voice wailed in his ears:

“Come to the hut… come to the hut… help me!”

Quincy stiffened. Rumors had warned of such voices. Yet instead of fear, curiosity stirred in him. Death no longer scared him—so why hesitate? He searched for the source.

“There’s no hut here…” he muttered, shrugging.

“North! To the hut in the north!”

Startled, Quincy followed the voice northward, but found nothing.

“A hut? North?” he scratched his head in confusion. The voice had already vanished.

“Strange. Is someone playing tricks on me?” He glanced around, but found only trees and piles of dead leaves.

He shook it off and resumed training, planting the Divine Staff upright before him. But before he could close his eyes, the staff glowed, revealing a shimmering wall of energy in front of him. He reached out—only to be flung back.

A barrier?

Gripping the staff, Quincy unleashed the Rampaging Staff against it.

Whooosh! Whooosh! Whooosh!

Claaang!

The staff bounced harmlessly off.

“Learn the second technique—and use that!” the Divine Staff commanded.

“Alright!”

Once more, Quincy sat, focusing intently. A new technique etched itself into his mind. Rising to his feet, he channeled both his Light Core and the staff’s power.

He lifted his right arm, staff aligned with his ear, then thrust forward with force.

“Flying Staff Strike!”

The weapon shot out like lightning, slamming into the barrier. Crack! A fracture appeared. Quincy repeated the strike again and again until the barrier shattered into glowing shards.

Praaank!

Behind it stood an ancient hut.

So this is the hut the voice spoke of… Quincy thought, stepping cautiously inside.

The room was empty.

“Here! Beneath the ground!” the voice cried out once more.

“Beneath the ground?” Quincy stomped the floor. “How am I supposed to dig through this?”

“To your right—an old cabinet. Open it, and you’ll find a passage to the basement.”

Turning, Quincy spotted the dusty cabinet. Approaching, he noticed strange glowing dots scattered across its surface. He tried forcing it open—but the dots flared, blasting him back into the hut’s wall with enough force to nearly collapse it.

“There’s something strange about those dots,” Quincy muttered, frowning.

“Hah! As I suspected… it won’t be so simple,” the voice sighed. “Those dots form a seal formation. To break it, you must connect them into the correct pattern. If you wish to learn, you’ll need a book on formations from the library.”

“Then I’ll get one right away!” Quincy dashed off toward the library.

---

The First-Year Library was filled only with basic manuals—introductory books on spiritual arts, inner energy, and elementary formations.

Quincy barged in and approached the librarian, Gavin Wang.

“Excuse me, where can I find books on formation techniques?”

The librarian raised an eyebrow. “Your first time here?”

“Yes. Please, I need your help.” Quincy clasped his hands and bowed politely.

“To the right are books on spiritual arts. To the left, manuals on inner energy. Formations are born from spiritual power, so look to the right. The front shelves hold practical guides; the back shelves hold theory. Do you understand?”

Quincy nodded. “That means I should look in the front-right section?”

“Exactly.” Gavin smiled.

“Thank you!”

Quincy searched shelf after shelf, scanning the neat rows of books. Just as he reached for one, someone shoved him hard from behind. He crashed into the shelf, books raining down on his head.

“Why is there trash in here, Uncle Gavin?” a mocking voice said.

It was Calder Flint. His cold eyes glared down at Quincy with disdain.

“Trash?” Gavin blinked. “What do you mean, Young Master Flint?”

“That boy doesn’t even have inner energy in his body! And he dares search for books on spiritual formations? What a joke!” Calder sneered.

“Hahaha!” His followers erupted in laughter.