As the crowd began to disperse under Old Zhu's orders, the lingering shock of the confrontation still hung in the air. Gu Zhun's shame was palpable, his head bowed as he grappled with the weight of his actions. Gu Sha, meanwhile, remained perplexed by the fact that a mere mortal had not succumbed to his full-force attack.
Old Ma, with a gruff harrumph, retreated into the workshop, his thoughts swirling with frustration and concern for his apprentice.
The villagers, gradually scattered, returning to their daily routines as they mulled over the shocking events they had witnessed.
Once the village was out of reach, Yan Jin's sagging frame stabilized, and he spat a mouthful of blood onto the ground. "That old dog hits hard," he muttered, his voice tinged with a mixture of pain and grim amusement. Despite the severity of his injuries, his body seemed to reset and heal at a visible rate.
By the time he made it to his hut his injury had healed, and his body stabilized, he took of his dirty robe and tied his hair in a ponytail.
Yan Jin's body was a study in contrasts—pale and skinny, yet possessing a strength and resilience that belied its outward appearance. His muscles, though slender, were sculpted with an almost otherworldly definition, as if chiseled by the hands of gods. Every sinew and tendon seemed to pulse with an inner vitality.
Riddled with the marks of unknown battles, each scar was a testament to the trials he had faced and the dangers he had overcome. They crisscrossed his skin like ancient runes.
Yet beneath the surface, Yan Jin's blood flowed with a relentless rhythm, pulsing with a vitality.
After downing a mouthful of the content of his gourd Yan Jin jumped in a one handstand position pulsating slowly up and down. For ten years he had been quietly practicing the exercises taught by his uncle as he modeled his body.
If Gu Sha was present, his jaw would drop to the floor; a fifteen-year-old at the peak awakened level was unheard of. More perplexing was the question of how Yan Jin had awakened.
Yan Jin stood up from his meditative position and threw a few punches, feeling the newfound power coursing through him. After ten arduous years, he had finally reached the peak awakened level.
Disaster never strikes alone, as the saying goes. The night he was blinded, heaven had bestowed upon him an unexpected boon. The purple jade necklace, melted into his eyes by Yan Li, had been a token of a mighty figure from the Empyrean Era who fought in the Archaic War millions of years ago.
As Yan Jin reflected on his transformation, he recalled the visions that had come to him the moment the purple jade necklace melted into his eyes. The pain had been excruciating, but amid the agony, he had seen a vision as vivid as reality itself.
In this vision, a powerful figure stood alone on a vast battlefield, surrounded by monstrous beasts of unimaginable size and ferocity. Each beast was a force of nature, their roars shaking the heavens and their footsteps splitting the earth. Yet, the lone warrior faced them without fear, his aura radiating an ancient and overwhelming power.
The figure's movements were a blur of speed and strength, each strike precise and devastating. With a sword that gleamed with celestial light, he cleaved through the beasts, his every motion leaving trails of brilliant energy in the air.
Blood—thick, dark, and archaic—sprayed across the battlefield, each drop containing the essence of ancient power. The purple jade necklace, identical to the one Yan Jin had worn, hung around the warrior's neck, absorbing the blood that splattered onto it. The necklace pulsed with each droplet, glowing brighter with every ounce of blood it absorbed.
As the vision continued, Yan Jin felt a deep connection to the warrior, almost as if he were experiencing the battle firsthand. He could feel the surge of power, the rush of adrenaline, and the profound sense of purpose that drove the warrior to fight against overwhelming odds. The necklace, now soaked in the archaic blood, seemed to hum with life, its power resonating with Yan Jin's very soul. --
When the vision ended, Yan Jin knew that the purple jade was no ordinary necklace. It was a relic from a bygone era, a token of a mighty figure who had bathed it in the blood of ancient beasts during a battle that shaped the course of history. This token had not only saved his life but had allowed him to awaken his Nine Neonate Hydra bloodline.
He was not sure about the grade of his bloodline, but he was sure the pressure was above the royal grade. Whatever his origins were, the hydra bloodline was enough to be an overlord in the upper regions of the pi continent. If his parents had to abandon him the enemies, they had to face were probably capable of leveling the continent.