Chapter 14 Invitation

For a moment, a nearly tangible malice swept over.

The instant the man reached out, Ian seemed to see a mountain tremble, a massive rock hand pressing down from the sky, utterly unavoidable and undefendable, causing him to hold his breath and his vision to dim.

Although not everyone in this world was born with the ability to manifest Spirit Energy, anyone could refine their inner will and spirit through arduous cultivation, imagining a "Phantom Shape" to stimulate potential and unleash power and oppression unimaginable to ordinary people, even that of life's Spirit Energy.

Right now, the man was employing a sublimated technique known as "Phantom Shape," which imitated the imposing pressure of Titans from mythical tales.

He believed that a child of eight or nine could not possibly hide any secrets in his presence.

But from start to finish, Ian made no move to retreat.

He remained still, and though surprise was evident on his face, it was overshadowed by a kind of composure, an acceptance of the choices made, with no room for regret.

So the hand did not truly come down; instead, it transformed into a heavy wave.

Waving forcefully in midair, the old knight pretended to speak fiercely, "I am a fugitive of The Empire, now run! Otherwise, I'll kill you!"

When he said this, he was half-joking, half-serious.

He indeed couldn't tell anyone his name; if The Empire found out, it wouldn't just be troublesome for him, the child before him would be implicated as well.

This child was calm, rational, and courageous. In the future, he might well become a pillar of The Empire... of the Humans, and should not be involved in those despicable conspiracies.

Children shouldn't be entangled in such filthy, sordid schemes.

"But what's the use of that?" Thinking this, the old knight felt a touch of sadness.

No matter what he or others thought, this world was filled with much ugliness; sons would betray their fathers, vassals their Monarchs, and followers would betray their own dreams.

That's why they had failed.

That's why he had been wandering and on the run, pursued for years, until now.

"Thank you for showing mercy, sir," Ian said.

But Ian's words broke the man's self-absorbed trance.

Shaking off the threat from just moments before, Ian took a deep breath and calmly responded, "You said I am not an ordinary child, and you are certainly correct. But, if I may say so, you are not ordinary either—you wouldn't actually do it."

At that moment, in Ian's eyes, the silver-haired man radiated a warm and fierce golden light, devoid of malice, merely tinged with a hint of regret and sorrow.

Keenly understanding the man's state of mind and knowing the man was his 'opportunity,' Ian spoke without hesitation, "Moreover, what does it matter if you are a fugitive? Doesn't that mean I can help you even more?"

"Help?"

Looking up, the man raised his eyebrow at Ian and said in a deep voice, "You don't even know my name, yet you claim to know how to help me?"

"Yes," Ian replied seriously, nodding his head.

"Once more, I am Ian," he repeated.

The boy placed a hand over his heart, bowed slightly, and introduced himself with formal etiquette, "A White Folk of Harrison Port."

"My next proposal can help you and me," he said as he straightened up and extended his hand, gesturing for the man to look beside him.

That was Ossenna's body.

A corpse.

Having a vague idea of what was suggested, the man's expression shifted subtly, "Are you implying..."

"Of course," Ian answered calmly, holding the pitchfork in his hand.

At this moment, the boy with white hair looked up at the starry sky and spoke lightly, "To be frank, I've just killed my despicable uncle. He was consuming Black Mushroom and even tried to kill me and sell my brother to the Natives as a Sacrificial Rite."

"I thought of a way to take care of him, but it only solves the immediate crisis. The trouble his death brings is equally dangerous to me."

Lowering his head, Ian's blue eyes fixed on the older man.

"Sir, I can tell by your attire and demeanor that you are hiding your true name and identity."

He said earnestly, "Are you a fugitive? Even better. I guess you're in need of a new identity right now…"

"And I need a new uncle."

"Although you might find it a bit abrupt, sir, both you and I are very clear that this is the right choice for both of us."

——To invite an Empire fugitive to disguise as the uncle you just killed?

If it had been thirty years earlier, upon hearing such words, the old Knight would surely have laughed out loud.

Not out of mockery. But out of emotion and appreciation for Ian's forthrightness and directness, and for the resilience, calmness, and willingness to try that lay behind this choice.

He would have readily agreed, looking forward to having a drink with the young man once he grew up.

But now, the man did not possess the same freedom and casualness he once had.

The reason he returned to Harrison Port—a place he had come and gone from many times over the years after being wanted and on the run—was due to the imminent 'anomalies' about to occur.

Neither The Empire nor the Natives understood the true nature of these anomalies, so they were applying for reinforcements in panic and conducting sacrificial rites.

But the man knew that the abrupt, fierce storm eight years ago, and the disturbances of many Sea Beasts before the storm, were just the precursor to the real 'anomaly' to come—or rather, the preliminary ripples of what was to be revealed.

Turning his head, the old Knight's gaze seemed to pierce through the forest as he looked towards the southern sea. In the man's eyes emerged the emerald green of the sea water, and below the ocean's surface, that pitch-black shadow.

The shadow was perfectly square, bearing the marks of human construction; it was ancient and imposing, like a mountain range beneath the sea.

That was the original purpose of building Harrison Port here... But everything was in the past, and decades had flown by. Those who knew this secret had all died, and their descendants had completely forgotten their responsibility.

"Except for me."

The man had his own mission.

He did not want anyone to discover his presence here, not even if it was to aid others. It would be irresponsible to his own safety and to the safety of those who knew of his existence. The Empire's hounds that would follow would bite indiscriminately until they were satisfied with their answers.

But if it was about disguising and lying low…

"…A good idea."

After a long silence, watching Ian's smiling face, the aged Knight slowly nodded.

He sighed deeply, "Indeed, it is a good idea."

Yes.

To disguise himself as the boy's uncle... Although there were many troublesome details to work out, compared to the life of constantly hiding and being vigilant against pursuers, unable to reveal even a hint of his identity, this was indeed a very reasonable trade-off.

He was, after all, an Empire fugitive, and any choice he made carried tremendous risks.

But did not the child in front of him also place himself in danger?

To Ian, he was just a stranger, and his only worry was that Ian might expose his identity, whereas Ian had to be concerned about whether his life was still in his own hands.

After all, even if Ian wielded powerful weapons and was born with Awakened Spiritual Power, he was still a child less than ten years of age, with his Primordial Seed unactivated and his Spirit Energy not yet strong enough to directly affect reality—how could he possibly penetrate his skin?

If he stood still and let the kid hack at him with Phantom Shape-enhanced arms and actually got hurt, he might as well have lived his life for nothing.

"Years of hiding have indeed made me weak."

Self-reflection. Now, he had made up his mind, "In this mutually beneficial plan, it's clear who is taking the greater risk—if even a child has the courage to inquire, how can I not respond?"

Having nothing to lose, what is there to fear?

With this thought in mind, he curled his lips into a smile.

The old Knight nodded slightly at the boy: "Ian, a name that signifies eternity. A fine name. Your parents must love you dearly."

As he spoke these words, the old Knight's expression was serene, seeming neither here nor there about Ian's proposition: "I consider your proposal a trade, but I will not give an answer just yet."

"Don't be in a hurry. Now, go do what you need to do next."

He spoke seriously, "Since I just intervened to help you, I will continue to assist you until you return to Harrison Port."