Chapter Twenty-Five: Tales by the Campfire

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“Do you know what this place we’re in is called?” Old Master Ye casually picked up a withered branch and tossed it into the campfire.

“Kingdom of Orga,” Lu Zhe answered in a daze.

“Think bigger,” Old Master Ye continued.

“The Divine Xia Continent,” Lu Zhe replied, seated by the fire.

“How much do you know about the affairs of the continent?” Old Master Ye gazed into the flames as he spoke.

“I don’t know,” Lu Zhe answered, his eyes fixed on the fire in a trance.

He had lived in Qingxi Town for as long as he could remember. Although he’d overheard adults talking about things now and then, he knew little of the world beyond. All he really knew was that they were in the southwestern part of the Divine Xia Continent, in the Kingdom of Orga—a mid-sized nation, by most accounts.

Old Master Ye spoke in his usual calm, distant tone, “We are indeed on the Divine Xia Continent. The continent is divided into four regions: east, west, south, and north. To the east are vast grasslands and forests; to the west, endless mountain ranges; to the south, great deserts and barren lands; and to the north, nothing but the boundless ocean.”

Finishing his words, Old Master Ye threw another dry branch into the fire and watched it quietly.

Lu Zhe nodded, listening intently, for these were things he’d never heard before.

After a pause, Old Master Ye’s voice sounded again, “As you just said, we are in the southwestern part of the Divine Xia Continent. South of us are the deserts and wastelands; west of us, countless mountains.”

“Master, you mean—” Lu Zhe looked up at Old Master Ye. In the firelight, he seemed older than ever, as though the years and the weight of experience had etched themselves into his face.

“You have limitless potential. You shouldn’t confine yourself to this country. Your talents belong out in the world,” Old Master Ye said evenly.

“Master, are you saying we’re going out to see the world?” Lu Zhe asked in astonishment.

“Not we—just you. I’m old. The outside world is no longer mine,” Old Master Ye replied, his tone tinged with the weariness of a man who had seen the rise and fall of many things.

The flames danced on, crackling as they devoured the dry wood. In the silent mountains, only the occasional chirp of insects broke the stillness. By the fire sat two figures, silent and deep in thought.

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After a long while, Lu Zhe glanced up at the silent Old Master Ye. He was about to speak, but the old man interrupted him.

“Zhe’er, do you know your own origins?”

Lu Zhe was startled by the question, then shook his head. “I don’t. I have no memory of anything before I was eight.” Suddenly he seemed to awaken, speaking more urgently, “Master, do you know who I am?”

Old Master Ye said nothing, only nodded lightly.

Lu Zhe was about to question further when Old Master Ye raised his hand and said in a calm voice, “Don’t ask again. In time, you will learn the truth about yourself.”

Lu Zhe swallowed his words and sat down, staring at the fire in a daze. In a soft voice, he asked, “Master, was I abandoned by my family?”

Old Master Ye’s eyebrows twitched. He looked up at Lu Zhe and saw the confusion and worry in the boy’s eyes—a look that stirred compassion in his heart.

After a long moment, Old Master Ye replied, “Don’t dwell on it. Your family did not abandon you.”

“Then why haven’t they come to see me?” Lu Zhe asked.

Old Master Ye gazed at the fire. “There are reasons they have not come. Don’t ask further. If you knew your origins now, it would only bring endless trouble upon yourself.”

Lu Zhe wanted to ask more, but Old Master Ye stopped him. The old man went on, “The Divine Xia Continent is vast, home to myriad races. The world outside is full of wonders and extraordinary people. I have decided to take you out into that world.”

Lu Zhe nodded. The world beyond sounded thrilling, but also dangerous. Yet with a master like Old Master Ye at his side, he felt nothing could threaten him.

“Oh, by the way, Zhe’er, I forgot to mention something,” Old Master Ye said suddenly.

“What is it?” Lu Zhe asked.

“Once we are outside, I may not always be able to stay by your side. Out there, you’ll have to rely on yourself for everything,” Old Master Ye said quietly.

“What!” Lu Zhe exclaimed in shock. All his earlier hopes vanished. If he had to rely on himself, he might as well have left long ago to find Xiao Hui—why wait until now?

Old Master Ye said nothing, but touched his ring. It glowed with a faint blue light, and suddenly an object wrapped in black cloth appeared in his hand—the very thing the shadowy figure had given him.

“This is for you,” Old Master Ye said, handing the black-wrapped bundle to Lu Zhe.

“What is it?” Lu Zhe reached to take the wrapped object from him.

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The moment the object touched his hand, Lu Zhe’s arm sank with its weight. Startled, he gathered his strength, but still couldn’t lift it with one hand. Only by using both arms did he manage to hoist it to his chest, panting from the effort. The thing was astonishingly heavy. Even after channeling his spiritual strength to augment his muscles, he could barely lift it. Lu Zhe peered at it and pulled the black cloth away.

What met his eyes was a glinting silver object—neither a sword nor a saber, but something of a most peculiar shape. About three feet three inches long, the front portion was composed of rectangular segments linked end to end, capped with a four-sided pyramidal point some two feet seven inches in length. The guard was square, and the handle, about six inches long, was wrapped in black cloth. The whole thing looked exceedingly odd.

Sensing Lu Zhe’s bewilderment, Old Master Ye spoke, “That is called the Meteorite Mace.”

Lu Zhe frowned slightly, examining the weapon in his hands as if trying to confirm something. At last, unable to restrain himself, he asked, “Master, why does my spiritual core slow almost to a standstill when I hold it, as if something is blocking it?”

Old Master Ye smiled faintly. “It is forged from Meteorite Iron, one of the six legendary metals—its weight is beyond compare. Moreover, it possesses the remarkable property of suppressing spiritual power.” He paused, taking the weapon from Lu Zhe and inspecting it as he explained, “The Meteorite Mace is three feet three inches in length: the handle six inches, the body two feet seven. Forged from Meteorite Iron, it is incredibly heavy. Not only that, but its weight suppresses the wielder’s spiritual power. Yet, paradoxically, it also greatly hastens one’s cultivation, making it a weapon without peer.” With that, he tossed the mace back to Lu Zhe.

Lu Zhe caught it and nodded, then asked, “Why not make it into a sword or something else? Why this odd shape?”

Old Master Ye replied, “A sword is formidable, but against opponents with powerful defenses it is often helpless. A mace is different—though it cannot cut or slice, its sheer weight means only the strong can wield it, and its destructive power is tremendous. Even through armor, it can crush a man to death.”

He added, “There are too many swordsmen in the world. You need something unique to set you apart. When you travel the continent, this will be your calling card.”

Lu Zhe stared in surprise, then after a pause said, “Master, you said only the strong can wield such a thing. But since it suppresses spiritual power, doesn’t that mean it must be used with brute strength alone?”

Old Master Ye smiled and nodded.

Lu Zhe set the mace down and turned to Old Master Ye. “Master, about going out into the world—when do we depart?”

Old Master Ye looked up at him. “We leave tomorrow. But—”

“But what?” Lu Zhe asked, hearing the old man fall silent.

“You’ll find out tomorrow,” Old Master Ye replied with a faint smile.

For some reason, seeing that smile sent a shiver of foreboding through Lu Zhe’s heart.