Chapter 1043 - 864: The Village

The keys were likely distributed within the territories controlled by various native forces, guarded by the local indigenous races or protected by powerful demons in the wilderness.

In any case, the first step to finding the keys is to figure out exactly where you are and which native force’s territory this area belongs to.

The Duke withdrew his gaze from the distant forest path, a thought arose in his mind, and he injected his spiritual power into the Divine Revelation Mark on the back of his left hand.

A faint light screen quietly unfolded before him, densely packed with hundreds of names, each followed by a number.

Vargas, 137 points; Elina, 124 points; Adonis, 98 points...

The list kept scrolling, with new names squeezing into the forefront every few moments, pushing down those previously ranked higher.

It was obvious that quite a few people had already scored on the first day of entering the Path of Divine Revelation, and the competition was quite intense.

The Duke merely glanced casually without examining the specific names on the leaderboard, then turned off the light screen.

It’s just the beginning, the real competition hasn’t really started yet.

Instead of focusing on the ranking, it’s better to first understand one’s own situation.

The Duke turned off the Divine Revelation Mark and refocused on the surrounding environment.

This forest was clearly not completely undeveloped virgin woodland.

Since landing, he had noticed that although the nearby trees were tall and dense, there were obvious signs of logging on the ground.

A few thinner iron-gray trunks were cut off at the base, with smooth and flat cuts, indicating they were made using metal tools rather than stone axes.

A narrow path, formed by repeated trampling, barely wide enough for a handcart to pass, could be faintly seen amidst the underbrush.

These traces suggested that this forest was not far from a human settlement, likely a route local villagers regularly followed into the mountains for firewood and herbs.

The Duke’s ears twitched slightly.

Not far ahead, in the direction the path extended, he caught the sound of voices.

It wasn’t the common language of the Wizard Plane but a strange language with a low tone and elongated syllables.

He quietly slid down from the tree branches, suppressing his presence to the minimum, advancing silently like a leaf caught in the wind towards the source of the sound.

A few breaths later, he stopped behind a dense bush, peering through the gaps between the leaves to see the scene ahead clearly.

It was a group of villagers busy in a clearing in the forest.

About a dozen people, both men and women, dressed in simple handwoven garments, colors mainly gray-brown and dark green, crudely textured yet tightly woven.

With grass ropes around their waists, some carried wicker baskets on their backs, others held short axes for cutting wood and shovels for gathering herbs.

In the center of the clearing, several bundles of freshly cut firewood and piles of fresh herbs still with soil were stacked, with two rudimentary wooden handcarts parked nearby.

None of these people emitted any energy fluctuations, not even reaching the level of Level 1 extraordinary creatures, yet their physiques made the Duke’s gaze pause briefly.

Each one’s height far surpassed ordinary humans from the Wizard Plane.

The shortest was a young girl who had just come of age, crouching on the ground organizing herbs, and even sitting showed her extremely long legs; standing up, she’d be at least one meter ninety, her entire body resembling a tall willow leaf.

The adult males were generally over two meters tall, with their leader being a stout man with broad shoulders and a thick back, standing like an iron tower, lifting bundles of firewood thicker than his waist with ease, muscle lines clearly visible beneath the coarse cloth sleeves.

The physical qualities of ordinary Elderlands natives indeed far surpassed those of ordinary people from the Wizard Plane.

Even these villagers with no Level 1 Extraordinary Power, their sheer physical strength was no less than some knight attendants.

The Duke squatted behind the bush, observing the interactions among the villagers carefully.

Their language was low and rhythmic, the speech was slow, yet the vocabulary was rich, clearly belonging to a group with a long-standing cultural heritage, likely mixed-blood descendants of the ancient Aurem people.

The Duke didn’t rush to reveal himself but quietly remained where he was, closing his eyes, concentrating his spirit, spreading it like a fine net, carefully capturing each syllable.

On his journey to the Oracle Plane, he had quickly mastered the dialects from different regions in a similar way, and now this ability to analyze and replicate languages had become second nature.

A few minutes later, he was able to discern several frequently repeated words and phrases from the villagers’ conversations, and after a few more breaths, he was able to understand most of the simple dialogues.

The Duke took out a simply styled windbreaker from his space ring, making it similar in style to the villagers’ coarse clothing, then deliberately smeared some mud and leaves on the hem and boots, making himself look like a traveler who had walked in the forest for a long time.

Then he took a small detour, emerging from the path on the other side, deliberately stepping on a dry twig, making a clear snapping sound.

All the villagers in the clearing paused their work almost simultaneously.

The stout man leading them reacted fastest, grabbing the short axe leaning against a handcart and taking a step forward to shield the others behind him, his deep brown eyes fixed intently on the direction the Duke was emerging from, the fingers around the axe handle turning slightly white from the pressure of his grip.