Chapter 240: The Heart of the Fire God

Kaelen locked himself in his room for seven whole days.

He divided the book into three parts, only daring to translate about two pages each day. These ancient characters were not like the script he was used to in his previous life; every time he encountered a strange stroke, he had to trace back up to find where that stroke was used to cross-reference, sometimes sitting for a whole session just to correctly identify one word.

By the afternoon of the seventh day, the door finally burst open.

Kaelen stepped out, dark circles under his eyes, his hair messy, hugging a thick stack of wood pulp paper in his arms. He blinked because of the blinding sunlight, his voice hoarse:

"I finished translating the main part."

The two old men jumped up so fast they almost flipped their chairs.

The whole family sat gathered around the wooden table; Bertram tightly closed the door, standing blocking the entrance.

Kaelen put down the translation stack, took a sip of water, then slowly opened his mouth:

"The Mandate Origin Nourishing Method is not a combat cultivation technique. It is a body nourishing cultivation technique."

He turned to the first page, pointing at a passage: "It says here, Divine Energy is not born from nothingness. Every time a Mandate Bearer uses their ability, the thing burned away is not Magical Energy, but the origin within their body. When Magical Energy runs out, sleeping a night restores it; but for the origin, burn a part lose a part, there is no way to get it back."

Solomon held his pipe, his hand stopping mid-air.

"So the stronger Divine Energy the children have, the earlier they die." He said slowly, every word seemingly weighed: "Not because of any Deity’s punishment. It is them burning themselves."

"Yes." Kaelen nodded: "The Golden Bull clan child two hundred years ago that Sage Valmot mentioned, his horns could ram through half a mountain cliff. Every ram was a time he shortened his lifespan."

Valmot rested his forehead on his hand, saying nothing. The old man remembered that child, remembering him always baring his teeth smiling, remembering how many times the whole tribe was proud, praised, and cheered for him to use that ability.

It turned out every round of applause was pushing the child into the grave a bit faster.

"What about the origin nourishing part?" Solomon asked, his voice trembling: "Is there a cure?"

"There is." Kaelen turned a few more pages: "Not a cure, but re-nourishing. This cultivation technique teaches how to guide the spiritual energy of heaven and earth to compensate for the depleted origin, using spiritual energy instead of the burned part. As long as the compensation is faster than the depletion rate, the Mandate Bearer will live as normally long as any beastman."

Sane read the cultivation technique content once, breathing a sigh of relief: "It seems Crimson was truly lucky to awaken many Mandate Bearers yet cultivate in a correct way. This Mandate Origin Nourishing Method is no different from the Divine Energy cultivation method I created for everyone to practice."

"Yes, I feel lucky that I went in the right direction, not making the clan members slowly die from depleting Divine Energy. But..." Kaelen emphasized: "The thing this book hides is not just a set of cultivation techniques."

He turned to the end of the paper stack, his complexion changing: "I want you two to see this."

He opened the original book, stopping at the last five pages.

Just a glance and anyone could recognize the difference. The entire book previously was written in a dark blue ink, the strokes perfectly even, the spacing between lines so accurate it was like measured by a ruler. But these five pages had scribbled, crooked handwriting, chaotic ink density, some places even smudged into streaks.

And at the corner of the third page, there was a handprint stamped with something that had turned dark brown.

Valmot reached out to touch that handprint, his hand trembling violently.

"It is him." The old man said, his voice choked: "It is the White Crane Priest. When shoving the chest into my hands, his chest had already been pierced through."

Kaelen remained silent for a moment, then read:

"I am the nineteenth-generation Priest of the White Crane clan. I write these lines when the tribe is already burning, no one is left for me to leave my dying words to. Whoever reads these words, please read to the end. The Alliance of ten tribes is not just an alliance. Among the ten tribes, five tribes bear another name, a name that not even our clan members are allowed to know. The five seal-keeping tribes."

"Ten thousand years ago, when the Fire God’s heart was sealed, people feared someone would find it one day, so they tore the clue into five pieces, handing them to five tribes. Each tribe only kept one piece, no tribe knew about another tribe’s piece. We passed it from one generation of Priests to the next, passed it for ten thousand years, passed it to the point that we ourselves forgot what we were keeping."

"Until someone came knocking on the door."

"The first tribe was annihilated when I was two hundred years old, people said it was a plague. The second tribe was annihilated ten years later, people said it was a flash flood. By the third tribe I understood, but I could not tell anyone. Saying it out loud the whole continent would know there was still a thing called a seal in the world, and that person would kill even faster."

"Now it is the White Crane’s turn. I cannot keep it anymore."

Kaelen stopped, taking a breath.

Solomon suddenly jumped up, resting his two hands on the table edge, his whole body trembling violently.

"Plague..." The old man gritted his teeth, his voice breaking: "Flash flood... Back then I was only two hundred years old, personally leading people to bury the corpses helping the first tribe. I buried for seven whole days, burying to the point my hands could not hold a shovel. I thought it was heaven’s disaster."

He looked up, his eyes bloodshot: "People slaughtered five tribes cleanly right under my nose, killing slowly over several decades, yet I stood there nodding saying it was heaven’s will."

Bertram hurriedly ran over to support his Master, but Solomon swatted his hand away, slumping down on the chair himself.

Valmot sat still, one hand still placed on the dark brown handprint on the paper page, a long time later finally muttering as if speaking to himself: "I thought I was only carrying a book running. It turns out I carried the lives of five tribes."

Kaelen closed the book, rubbing the spine of the book. He found a difference at this spine, his finger lightly pressing it once.

Click!

The book spine emitted a sound like a latch just opened, a metal piece looking like a card fell out, hitting the tabletop ringing with a clinking sound. Kaelen picked up the metal piece, holding it up under the torchlight, then following the patterns on it, found a matching point on the book cover, placing the card in.

The book immediately transformed, from an initial paper book gradually changing every angle and edge, assembling into a box shape. On each block of this box shape was a closely related drawing. Kaelen found the convergence point again, gently disassembling the box shape, flattening it out.

He pointed at the surface of the flat plane, pointing again at the corners and edges: "This is a seal piece, or more accurately the bottom right corner piece of a map. The other four pieces are respectively the top left corner piece, the top right corner piece, the bottom left corner piece, and the middle piece."

Solomon and Valmot still had not recovered from the shock of the magical transformation scene just now. Solomon swallowed his saliva:

"This... what secret does this map store?"

Kaelen touched the joint between the metal card and the book cover, flicking it lightly once. The metal card fell out, lying in his hand, the book returning to an ordinary book.

He opened the book, page sixty-eight, pointing at a line much fainter than the other lines, as if someone had rubbed it back and forth many times.

"Five seal pieces assembled form a complete map, pointing straight to the place keeping the Fire God’s Heart..."

The Fire God’s Heart...

The two old men trembled, almost suffocating. They felt their seven hundred years of life were truly lived in vain.

Sane narrowed his eyes: "Do you remember the intelligence Aaron brought back? About a Lion clan beastman having Saint Beast level Ice attribute Divine Energy?"

Kaelen nodded, turning to ask him: "Do you know something?"

Sane smirked:

"According to the described characteristics, I can affirm that is the third son of the Cipher tribe Chief. At the time we ambushed Cipher, that guy was only a level five Warrior, not even having Divine Energy. The group of slaves captured back from Cipher said, he and his two brothers had brought Rylan and his Papa along to escape beforehand. In a short period of time, if not a person bearing a mission like you and me, how could he advance from level five to Saint Beast?"

Kaelen’s eyes narrowed, saying in a deep voice: "You mean... Rylan found something similar to the Fire God’s Heart and gave it to his Beastman to use?"

Sane nodded: "This possibility cannot be excluded."

The two old men sitting listening to the couple talk felt like ducks listening to thunder, but also somewhat understood the seriousness in it. Waiting for Sane to finish speaking, Valmot hurriedly interjected:

"Saying that, is this Fire God’s Heart truly very important?"

Kaelen nodded: "That is right. It seems this is the key to breaking the restriction separating the parts of the Beastman continent."

Kaelen placed his hand on his chest, pursing his lips: "If I guess correctly, in the Southern continent there is also a Heart, it’s just that... it seems to have fused with me..."

Sane was stunned, wanting very much to ask when it fused with Kaelen and why he knew, but with two elders present here, it was not convenient for him to ask out loud.

Kaelen reinserted the metal card into the book spine, then kept the original copy, handing the translation to the two Sages: "This thing relates to the survival of the continent, moreover if it is revealed that you two are keeping it, it will cause harm to both tribes. I ask for permission to keep it in your stead."

The two Sages nodded: "It was originally given to you, just keep it."

If the two kids could find the Fire God’s Heart before those evil guys, it would be even better...

---

The Western continent.

The snow had stopped falling for a few days. The old Golden Peafowl clan Priest leaned on his stick hobbling into Larkspur’s house; having just stepped through the door he already heard giggling sounds.

On the animal fur blanket spread in the middle of the house, a red-haired baby was lying on his back, his two legs kicking wildly in the air, his hands tightly gripping Larkspur’s shiny golden hair pulling it. Larkspur grimaced but still could not bear to pull his hair back, only able to coax: "Blaise be good, let go, Uncle is in pain..."

"Haha, the boy is truly strong." The old Priest slumped down beside him, extending his finger poking the chubby cheek: "Come, let Grandpa see your dimple."

Blaise turned his head over, his ruby eyes blinking, then grinned widely, revealing the charming dimple on his right cheek. The old Priest’s heart softened, narrowing his eyes in a smile.

Then he suddenly froze.

On the baby’s neck, a string braided from down feathers was dangling something, gleaming dark red under the sunlight reflecting through the window.

"What is on the boy’s neck?"

Larkspur raised his head, answering very naturally: "Ah, that red stone. The day I cleaned up Blaise’s eggshells I saw it lying mixed in the shell pile. I intended to put it away but the boy cried too fiercely, crying until his face turned purple, I had to give it to him to hold. But this brat put it in his mouth to bite, I was afraid he might accidentally swallow it so I found a string to thread it."

Having finished speaking, he leaned close to the old Priest’s ear, saying softly: "Let me tell you, that stone is very weird. I wanted to carve a hole to thread the string but couldn’t carve it, was just grumbling not knowing what to do now when suddenly I was able to poke a hole..."

The old Priest slowly picked the gem up, rolling it in his palm.

It was as red as a coagulated blood drop, the surface perfectly smooth without a single cut or carving mark. But the thing catching the old man’s attention the most was not the color.

It was warm.

Not the warmth transmitted from the baby’s flesh and skin. It was a warmth it emitted itself, steady, persistent, like a piece of coal buried completely in ash.

And in the moment his finger pressed on the gem’s surface, the old man vaguely felt it twitch slightly once. Very lightly. Like something inside had just beaten a beat.

The old Priest was startled and let go of his hand, leaning close to look again. The gem still lay quietly on the baby’s chest, dark red and motionless.

The old man exhaled a breath, laughing at himself: "I am old, trembling hands and blurry eyes, even a stone I thought was wriggling."

Blaise (Ignis) ya ya twice, extending his chubby fists grabbing the old man’s finger. Beside the boy, a small fire spot the size of a bean suddenly flared up on the animal fur blanket, flickering for a while then completely extinguishing.

On the blanket, not even a scorch mark was left.