Chapter 25 Sublimation

Elder Prude was puzzled by this, but after all, it had been over half a year since he last saw Ossenna, and it was quite normal for someone to grow stronger with better nutrition over such a long period.

Not to mention that the grotesque tumor on the other party's leg hadn't changed, and although there were injuries on the face, it generally did indeed resemble Ossenna.

"It seems we can't continue to sleep tonight, the natives are becoming more rampant, even setting fires within the port... There might be follow-up attacks, I need to make a trip to the city hall."

Blaming the fire incident on the natives offhand, as an elder of the White Folks, Prude naturally knew how to explain to the officials at the city hall and the local viscount, saying what they liked to hear.

By this time, with the gathering of many White Folks and their efforts in dousing the flames, the fire had significantly diminished, and it was even close to being extinguished.

Only the smoldering wooden frames were left, giving off heat within the gradually collapsing ruins of the houses, distorting the air.

Having assessed the situation, Elder Prude had made a decision. He turned his head and instructed Senan, who stood by his side, "Senan, take Ian and the others to that house to rest. You know the one, by the docks."

"Yes!" The fisherman accepted without hesitation. The residents around him had just been praising his bravery and righteousness, and he had managed to make a small name for himself. Although the swarthy fisherman appeared impassive on the surface, inside, he was elated.

After speaking, the old man turned his head to look at Ian, his gaze thoughtful.

——This child is not crying or making a fuss now; he's even able to recount what happened smoothly, quite unlike other children.

Although he seemed a bit timid, there was true courage inside him.

Moreover, he was genuinely charming, with a pair of big watery eyes that seemed as if they could speak. Elder Prude couldn't help but feel emotional. If they were still in the Imperial Capital, this child would surely attract the favor of many noble young ladies when he grew up.

Unfortunately...

"Good child, go to sleep. Ossenna needs to heal, and you and your brother should rest well."

Shaking his head to stop his train of thoughts, the old man spoke in his hoarse voice, as gently as possible to Ian, "Don't be afraid, it was your uncle before, now your clansmen will protect you."

And the boy looked up, earnestly gazing at Elder Prude.

"I believe in the Elder," he said, his sincere tone pleasing the old man, who stroked his beard, laughing heartily, "Go rest now, it's time for you to grow!"

Following that, Ian accompanied Senan to a small house beside the docks.

Compared to the dilapidated eastern side of the port where Ian originally lived, the streets near the docks seemed not so run down. The seawall was made of special Elf Sea-wood: short, thick trunks and root systems that were blackish-brown like rocks, entangled with gray-white stones, withstanding the wash of the azure waves.

It was deep into the night now, and the residents who had been awakened by the fire had mostly returned to their homes to continue resting. The streets were silent and deserted as Ian followed Senan up the steps and along the streets, arriving beside a small house by the shore.

"This house used to belong to the Mortala family, but it was damaged in a storm eight years ago, and the entire family was gone. After it was repaired, no one lived in it, now it's just the right place to use."

The swarthy fisherman patted Ian's head, "This is on the inner side of the port, rest assured, no matter how fierce those natives are, they can't possibly get here."

"Thank you, Uncle Senan!" Ian seemed to finally breathe a sigh of relief. As he gazed at the small seaside house, he murmured, "Finally..."

After a busy day, having killed three people and rescued a teacher, Ian could finally rest properly.

He said goodbye to Senan, settled his brother, and adjusted his blanket.

For the last time that day, Ian activated his Foresight View.

The tranquil white breath swirled like the clouds in the sky, and though there was still a faint scent of blood lingering, who in this world is truly safe and can truly be at ease?

Stirred by Ian's manipulation, Elan woke up, his dark purple eyes somewhat dazedly looking at his brother. He was well-behaved, not crying, but Ian actually wished he would cry a little.

"Brother will sleep with you tonight."

Closing the Foresight View, his glistening watery eyes grew dim.

After making sure Elan was comfortably tucked in with the cushions, Ian, like in his past memories, began to tell some bizarre stories as he had done when taking care of his brother, still the child Ian with no recollected memories.

Back then, Ian would talk about the various fragments that appeared in his dreams, like the towering iron skyscrapers piercing through the clouds, taller than the mountains by the port; the wondrous magic web that connected everyone, where people at one end of the earth could know the happenings at the other end; or the huge iron ship spewing flame streams in the Nihility, departing from a vast water-filled sphere, heading towards a vast and radiant Star Sea.

The Star Sea... the Star Sea.

Even just storytelling, Ian couldn't help but space out for a moment.

Looking out the window at the sparse starry night sky of Harrison Port, he raised his head in contemplation, as if the iron ship from his dreams and stories had become reality, sailing toward the endless Star Sea.

——Those were fragments of memories, obsessions that transcended two lifetimes.

And Ian gazed at the starry sky, simply staring blankly, observing for a long time.

"The first night here, not too bad after all."

After a while, Elan had fallen asleep, and the boy lowered his head. He looked out at the surging waters outside the window and whispered to himself, "If the start was hellish, my arrival here makes it at least not bad."

Surviving the first life-threatening crisis in the Otherworld had been resolved... but the threat of the Natives remained, and his life was still not guaranteed.

Unless he could gain power. More significant power to ensure his survival, a power that would allow him to live in peace.

But that was a matter for tomorrow.

Lying down, he closed his eyes.

In the sound of the tides, he fell into a deep sleep.

A dreamless night.

When he awoke the next day, it was already noon.

The midday sunlight filtered through the window curtains, making Ian's white hair shimmer and shine.

"Hm~"

Opening his eyes and slowly getting up, Ian stretched lazily like a cat. Through the tears in his collar and clothes, it was visible that the bruises on his waist, abdomen, and chest had disappeared—even the most severe ones, such as the wound on his head, were now nothing but faint red marks.

Feeling refreshed after waking up, Ian felt great, the slight dizziness from overusing Spirit Energy the day before had completely dissipated: "It seems the wounds have all healed. Has my self-healing ability improved so much?"

However, after a rumble in his stomach, he touched his belly and sighed, "It just makes me hungry."

His appetite had also increased after awakening his Spiritual Power, which was a small price to pay for mastering power.

Turning his head, Ian saw his younger brother's familiar sleeping face—this little guy seemed to have made a habit of it, managing to sleep soundly even in the bright daylight of the room.

Looking up again, he turned his gaze to the other side of the room.

'Ossenna', bandaged all over and covered in medicines, also lay flat on a plank bed, seeming to be in deep sleep.

This was after the apothecary had treated his wounds and sent him over last night,

But it was clearly a disguise, and sensing that Ian had awoken, the one impersonating Ossenna, Hiliard, also opened his eyes, giving the white-haired boy a meaningful look.

"Good student, you were rather convincing with your crying act last night," he said.

"Teacher, you were quite skilled at playing severely injured too," Ian replied.

The two of them looked at each other and laughed.

Although they were still strangers to each other, there was no doubt that they were a million times more congenial to each other than a child-abusing, mushroom-addicted uncle and any potential pursuers that might come.

Ian needed Hiliard, and Hiliard saw potential in Ian's future. Compared to these issues, familiarity or strangeness was simply a trivial concern.

But soon, Ian's gaze became serious.

"Teacher," he got out of bed and stood in front of Hiliard, who had also sat up, and bowed slightly, "You were once a 'Sublimator', weren't you?"

Seeing this, the man also became solemn, rising from the bed, "Indeed."

Then, he heard Ian ask earnestly, "Then teacher, I want to know the source of a Sublimator's power and how to become a true Sublimator."

This time, he had relied on igniting fires, laying traps, and ambushing to kill the enemy, but such preparations and luck wouldn't always be on his side. If the Natives came for revenge, he couldn't be completely defenseless.

Ian wanted to become stronger, and to become a Sublimator, spoken of by everyone on the Terra Continent, might just be the most orthodox and quickest path.

Of course, besides that, Ian had many other things he wanted to ask—such as Spirit Energy, the history and races of this world, the past of the land and country he stood upon...

He wanted to know it all, but he wasn't in a hurry, so he asked earnestly, starting with the most critical aspects.

In the face of knowledge, he has always been earnest and unguarded.

"A good question indeed," Hiliard, sitting on the edge of the bed, straightening his back and facing the student's inquiries, smiled, "This is exactly what I wanted to tell you last night, the essence and the method of cultivating as a Sublimator."