Chapter 75: A Future Turned

The rebellion in the northern county of Antu was growing ever more severe. Hundreds of thousands of refugees surged southward, and after being refused entry by Saen City, most had no choice but to continue on, drifting from one small domain to another. Yet many domains refused to accept the refugees, for their arrival brought not only precious population but also terrifying turmoil and a tremendous impact on the land. Having just left their homeland, these people were like rootless duckweed, possessing no sense of belonging and easily prone to countless crimes for the slightest reason, becoming the most restless element in any domain.

But Golden Flash Town welcomed the refugees without hesitation, purchasing ship after ship of grain at any cost. Even the grain prices at Stormport rose as a result, and the news quickly spread among the refugees. In the span of just over ten days, more than a thousand refugees had poured in. In the foreseeable future, this number would multiply tenfold; by then, the refugees would outnumber the original inhabitants.

As the acting lord, he had no need to personally attend to most affairs—simple instructions summoned many subordinates to handle them. Charles accompanied Irene on a leisurely stroll through the town, inspecting the townsfolk while allowing himself a moment of relaxation.

When they reached a familiar spot, Irene was joyfully munching on a snack akin to candied fruit, but suddenly her whole body shuddered. She dropped her handful of treats, clutching her head, her face contorted in pain.

“What’s wrong?” Charles quickly reached out to steady her, concern evident in his voice.

As a Spiritmaster, Irene was shielded by protective spiritual light—poison or ambush were impossible, and even rain would be warded off. There was no reason for her to suddenly seem injured.

“I... I think I sense something strange,” Irene trembled, her violet eyes shimmering with a hazy glow that made Charles dizzy just by looking at her.

“The future is like a river, endlessly flowing toward the unknown. Many tributaries join along the way. Yet, I feel as if this river suddenly bends here, heading toward an unfathomable destiny.”

The girl’s voice carried a strange melody, as if countless voices overlapped, mysterious and uncanny.

Charles’s heart skipped a beat. This was the very place where his bargain tutor had once summoned Firefly’s projection of the future. Due to some inexplicable factor, the townsfolk had lost all memory of the event, but traces still remained.

In the predetermined future, Bruce would escape, gravely wounded, and encounter the “protagonist” Wayne Thomson, bestowing upon him the source artifact capable of summoning the future, along with all his knowledge. Wayne would then travel to Morent, amass great wealth at the academy, and eventually rise as one of the world’s mightiest, founding his own independent kingdom.

Yet, with Charles’s intervention, Bruce had been slain by his own hand, and the source artifact absorbed by Charles’s modulator, thus snatching away the protagonist’s great fortune.

His interference had altered the entire future, so it was only natural for Irene, a prophet, to sense something amiss. Speaking of which, where was that person now?

“My head feels dizzy—Becca keeps sending thoughts, making me uncomfortable. Can we go back?” Irene softly rubbed her swollen temples.

Becca was the name of her main totem, the mysterious creature capable of foretelling the future.

“Alright, since you’re not feeling well, I’ll have someone escort you home to rest. I’ll continue on my own.” Charles summoned the little maid Eve and a guard to accompany Irene back to the manor, then made his way to the town’s largest blacksmith shop.

...

Elsewhere, in a subterranean base, a boy with thick brows and large eyes was diligently drawing inheritance factors.

So many experiences had rapidly matured this seventeen-year-old, replacing his once youthful naivety.

“Wayne, your talent for drafting is astounding—you’ve reached mastery in less than twenty days,” praised a middle-aged man in a green robe, unabashed in his admiration.

“Teacher Edmon, can I begin learning to construct totems now?” Wayne asked respectfully, suppressing the endless hatred in his eyes.

It was that very person who had destroyed his family, forced him to flee his beloved homeland, and brought him to this mysterious place.

“Of course. I’ve prepared a top-tier rune factory for you. Next, you’ll follow me to learn how to construct a totem,” the man replied with a smile, adding, “You know, even an ordinary rune factory costs over a hundred thousand gold coins, but the one I’ve prepared for you is nearly half a million!”

Wayne’s eyes filled with awe, and the previous pain of sacrifice suddenly felt worthwhile.

This boy’s affinity for source power was extraordinary; when performing spiritual arts, his consumption was only a tenth that of a typical Spiritmaster!

Moreover, his talent for drafting totems was terrifying. Such a prodigy would naturally be nurtured as a treasure, and not even the other strong figures in the organization could hope to snatch him away.

“Unfortunately, with that person around, you’re destined to be no more than his subordinate.”

A pang of regret flashed through the teacher’s heart, recalling the one for whom the organization had spared no effort—a peerless powerhouse destined to lead them to the most glorious future.

There was no helping it; that person’s talent was even more astonishing. So young, yet already possessing three ultimate forms.

He had a superlative main totem and had reached the verge of super-evolution—one of the top ten geniuses in history.

...

“I wonder why the young master wants us to forge such enormous things—what could they possibly be for?” The town’s only blacksmith was baffled.

The young master had appeared earlier, sketched an attachment for something on parchment, and demanded it be finished within two days.

With the help of a group of warriors, the massive piece was completed.

Upon inspection, it had five iron hooks as thick as thighs, somewhat resembling iron gauntlets.

But the wrist was thicker than a waist, clearly not made for humans—could it be for some monstrous creature?

In addition to this pair of gigantic “gauntlets,” the young master ordered him to forge a machete, as large and sharp as possible, with no upper limit.

A monstrosity over five meters long was rapidly taking shape, expected to be finished in three days.

Fortunately, the fearsome Marcus personally assisted, wielding the giant hammer with terrifying strength, or else it would never have been completed so quickly.

A wagon arrived and hauled away the hundreds-of-pound “gauntlets,” transporting them to the northwest forest of Golden Flash Town, after which all the guards withdrew.

As they left, someone couldn’t help but glance back—and was suddenly horrified to see a giant beast emerge from the woods, easily picking up the items from the wagon.