Chapter 3 Forming Tools_1

Owen Bertram chose another river to search, with many rivers of all sizes surrounding the village, all supposedly flowing into the "Rogue River" seven hundred miles away.

Older pearl divers would say that the Rogue River was littered with pearls the size of fists, but any ordinary person who entered the water would be gnawed on by various dangerous creatures until there was nothing left but bones.

Owen Bertram didn't dwell on such thoughts. He had been tirelessly searching this river using Little Loach for several days now but had come up empty-handed.

It wasn't that Owen Bertram wasn't trying hard enough, but that Little Loach had been uncooperative these past few days.

Anytime it encountered something, it wanted to eat it.

Owen Bertram always found himself having to pause his search, catch something to satiate Little Loach's hunger, and by then, the sun would already be about to set.

Over these couple of days, Little Loach had consumed a total of seven crabs varying in size, twelve Fierce Fishes, and nine water snakes of varying lengths.

Every time Little Loach was full, a warm current would enter Owen Bertram's body. The day before, Owen Bertram finally saw that these warm currents converged in his lower abdomen, forming a very complex text. It looked like the traditional dragon characters from his past life, but it was also slightly different.

Today, Little Loach seemed odd, it showed a reluctance to work.

He had grown rapidly over the recent days, now over a foot long.

Is this still a loach? It's practically a chubby snake now.

But it had whiskers and often moved its head from side to side as if it thought itself quite impressive.

Half of the allotted time for the Life Saving Tax had already passed. Owen Bertram, left with no choice, caught a crab the size of a sea bowl and tossed it to Little Loach: "Eat up quickly and get back to work."

Little Loach rushed over and soon ate it clean, leaving no shell behind.

But Owen Bertram found that after it had eaten, this fellow became even lazier and laid there motionless.

Owen Bertram poked it with his finger, causing Little Loach to jolt!

Startled, Owen Bertram worried if he was overfeeding Little Loach, which was his and his sister's survival lifeline. Could it have died from overeating?

As he was anxiously running around in circles, Little Loach suddenly opened its mouth and regurgitated an object. After this, it seemed to lighten up and crawled into the water with its plump body.

Owen Bertram picked up the object, it was a dagger, look similar to his own small knife but the entire piece was snow white, resembling bone and jade.

An idea sprung into Owen Bertram's mind—this must be what resulted from Little Loach eating all those teeth and shells?

What is the use of this? Everyone knows bones are not as hard as steel.

He held his small knife in one hand and the bone dagger in the other, striking them against each other. With a clink, his small knife was cut cleanly in half!

"What..." Owen Bertram was taken aback as he stared at the bone dagger, what a surprise!

Owen Bertram's first instinct was to quickly scoop up some mud and smear it on the bone dagger until it was dirty. He then tied the handle with a piece of torn cloth, making it look like a rusted, broken knife.

Then, Owen Bertram concealed himself and attached his consciousness to Little Loach.

Little Loach was especially hardworking today, swimming about swiftly. A fierce fish over two feet long targeted Little Loach in the middle of their hunt. Owen Bertram judged that some unknown changes must have occurred in Little Loach. Wanting to test it out, instead of hiding in the mud, he gave a flick of his tail.

Splash!

The tail smacked the Fierce Fish's head, shattering its bones in an instant. Pieces of bloody flesh scattered in the water!

Owen Bertram had a loach's reaction, shocked for quite some time at the sight. He then hurriedly swam away.

It wouldn't take long for the smell of blood to attract larger predators in the water.

...

As the sun was setting, Owen Bertram found a broad bean-sized pearl at the deepest part of the river. It was the largest he had ever found so far.

But that river clam was also the largest he had ever seen, even bigger than the pot at home.

When Owen Bertram dived down, the water flow disturbed it, causing it to quickly close up its shells like a big, black pot resting at the bottom of the river.

There wasn't much time. It would be too late to pull it to shore and poke at it. Owen Bertram pulled out his bone dagger and stabbed at it.

The thick clam shell was as soft as tofu under the bone dagger. Owen Bertram easily secured the pearl and quickly swam upwards. He hid the pearl underwater before surfacing.

Soaked through and through, Owen Bertram hastened home as the sun was about to set, the chill growing stronger. If it was before, Owen Bertram would have been shivering uncontrollably from the cold in his current state.

But ever since that warm current formed symbols inside him, Owen Bertram was no longer afraid of the chill.

At the same time, Owen Bertram was excited. If he could find another pearl in the next seven or eight days, during the next tax collection, he could exchange it for some meat for his sister bravely.

The siblings had not tasted meat in years. The last time they had some was when their parents were still alive.

...

The next day was another fruitless one.

The majority of the pearl diver's hard work was in vain. A small Pearl could basically ensure the food supply for an adult. Before Little Loach healed its injury, Owen Bertram could only ensure food for the two siblings.

Now, he had some wild ambitions.

The rivers near the village had been mostly combed through, so finding pearls was challenging. He decided to wrap up work earlier today and would head to a farther, more dangerous river tomorrow.

With the Bone Dagger and being stronger than before, Owen Bertram dared take risks.

Just when Owen Bertram was back at the village, a few points of light appeared far in the sky. He glanced at them and lowered his head, continuing his journey. Those were the immortals, or more accurately, Cultivators, in this world.

Most of the time, these Cultivators who flew high above the Nine Heavens had no interaction with ordinary people.

However, just as Owen Bertram was almost home, those few points of light made their way to the outskirts of the village before plunging into it.Crackle and pop!

A series of electric lights burst out, their points of light shaking and faltering, as they fell from the sky and crashed erratically into the village.

Boom——

A large pit was formed where the ground was hit, with a wisp of blue smoke rising.

Owen Bertram couldn't help but smirk. The Cold Poison from the Extinct Village wasn't just harmful to ordinary people. Those unprepared cultivators who rushed in were also in for a rough time.

Three men and two women climbed out of the pit in a disheveled state. They were all young and handsome, dressed in lavish outfits.

"There's something off about this forsaken village!" A man with narrow eyes cautiously surveyed the surroundings, quickly spotting Owen Bertram.

He immediately took a defensive stance, raising his hand to summon a small crystalline sword, about a foot long, from thin air, pointing it towards Owen Bertram not far away.

Looking at the motion of the Flying Sword, Owen Bertram couldn't help but make a judgment: it's rigid, lacking flexibility.

In his mind, he pictured the movements of Little Loach in the water, feeling that that was the ultimate state for a Flying Sword.

"He's just an ordinary villager, no need to treat him as a severe threat," another young cultivator stopped the Flying Sword, also scanning the surroundings, "What made us fall was the evil energy here."

Mentioning the evil energy, their faces all showed a hint of fear.

A round-faced girl timidly suggested: "Maybe...we should go back."

However, the men shook their heads simultaneously: "We're already here."

One of them looked at Owen Bertram and asked, "Is it...is it the Burning Hillock over there?"

He was pointing at the large dirt mound behind the village.

Owner of the crystalline sword chuckled, "Asking someone who is blind. A rustic villager like him, how would he know what the Burning Hillock is?"

Owen Bertram played along with a puzzled face: "What is the Burning Hillock?"

"Hahaha." The owner of the crystalline sword burst into laughter.

A few people took out a map and consulted it for a while: "It should be here."

Owen Bertram thought about the dinner waiting at home and turned to leave, but the small sword appeared in the air, brushing past his nose to block his way. The sharp sword aura swept across his forehead, cutting off a few strands of hair.

"Who told you you could leave?" The owner of the small sword raised an eyebrow, rebuking him sharply.

Owen Bertram frowned, turning around to look at them.

No one paid him any mind as they were still studying the map, with the small sword pointing ominously at Owen Bertram's forehead!

"Burning Hillock..." the eldest cultivator came over and asked: "the large dirt mound over there, has anyone from your village been there?"

Owen Bertram shook his head dumbly: "No, the elders in our village always say that place is a large grave, buried with an immortal monster that can cast forty-nine different spells. Someone from our village went there before, and as a result, his machete jumped out and grew eyes and hands and feet, chopping its owner to death..."

As he spoke, he performed a display of what a machete growing hands and feet would look like, which made the cultivators burst into laughter seeing his hilarious acting and they just scoffed at Owen Bertram's story.

Owen Bertram kindly warned, "You mustn't go there. The elders say that no one has ever made it out alive."

He knew the more he said that, the less these people would care.

Sure enough, the cultivators waved their hands dismissively, "You can go now."

Owen Bertram turned and left. None of the monsters who went to the large dirt mound to worship their ancestors every night ever came out.

To Owen Bertram, these people seemed like the protagonists of bad horror movies from his past life. You could tell from the start that they were all going to die.

The three male and two female cultivators quickly set out towards the large dirt mound. On their way, the round-faced girl asked in a small voice, "Can a machete really grow eyes and hands and feet?"

The men laughed again, "You believe what that villager said?"

"Unsuspecting villagers, when they encounter strange things, always come up with many terrifying tales."

"However," an older cultivator considered, "it might be an illusion array or some materialization divine power."

"We should still be careful," another female cultivator chimed in, "Keep the magical instruments and treasures that we don't use often outside."

Your life treasures won't be affected by Materialization Divine Powers.

The owner of the small sword took out a bag, and they placed the extra items they had on them into the bag, hiding it in a tree hollow outside the village.

Next to the large tree by the river, a little loach flicked its tail, leisurely swimming back.

Of course, the part about a machete growing eyes and hands and feet was made up by Owen Bertram.

He also prepared a few more stories, like "needle transforming into a snake and strangling farmwife," "bamboo horse opening its mouth wide to eat a child," and so on, but unfortunately, he didn't get a chance to say them.

If you had listened to my advice and left obediently, there wouldn't have been any problems. But if you didn't...well, you were not going to need these things anyway, so they might as well be mine.

The way the owner of the small sword treated him, advising them just once was already being excessively kind and just.

Once Owen Bertram got home, Verna rushed excitedly towards him, "Brother!"

Thud!

Every day she fell for the same trick. The same trick, nonetheless.

As for those items, Owen Bertram wasn't in a hurry. It was almost dark, a time when there wouldn't be anyone venturing outside the village.