Current Language: English
Read this chapter in:
The First Legacy
The first light of dawn had barely pierced the morning mist when Chief Darma once again crossed the threshold of the village’s main hall. He was not alone. Beside him strode a middle-aged man with an unyielding posture—Chief Batara. As a Six-Star Seal Cultivator of the same generation as Darma, Batara exuded a profound, suffocating aura of tranquility. The deep lines etched across his visage served as silent testaments to the thousands of mortal clashes he had survived.
”Lord Ken, Chief Batara’s faction arrived at the village borders in the dead of night. This morning, he specifically requested an audience with you,” Chief Darma reported, his tone measured with absolute reverence.
”Excellent. Please, Uncle,” Ken replied softly. His tranquil gaze shifted to the new guest, accompanied by a subtle nod.
Chief Darma turned to his side and extended a hand. “Chief Batara… if you please.”
”Thank you,” Chief Batara responded. He stepped forward and bowed his head deeply, offering the highest gesture of respect known among martial artists. “Lord Ken, please allow me to introduce myself. My name is Batara, leader of the Batara militia.” His voice resonated deeply, carrying the natural authority of a leader, yet tempered with absolute humility. “We offer our boundless gratitude, My Lord, for granting us sanctuary.”
”Think nothing of it, Uncle,” Ken replied, his warm gaze instantly melting the heavy tension in the air. “Our gates remain open to anyone possessing the will to survive and fight alongside us. From this precise moment, you are officially a part of the great Siama family, and you shall hold the position of an elder within our ranks.”
”It is a profound honor, My Lord. Once again, you have my gratitude,” Batara said, his heart swelling with relief at such a sincere reception.
”I place great faith in your ability to help us fortify the foundation of this faction in the days to come,” Ken stated, his tone authoritative yet embracing.
Realizing the crucial matters had been settled, Chief Darma cupped his fists before his chest. “My Lord, if there are no further edicts, we beg leave to withdraw for now. I must formally introduce Chief Batara to the rest of our vanguard.”
”Very well, Uncle. Proceed with your duties,” Ken replied softly. However, just a heartbeat before the two men turned away, Ken added a final command. “Ah, one more thing. If a young boy comes searching for me today, direct him straight to this hall.”
”As you command, My Lord,” Chief Darma acknowledged, bowing respectfully before marching out through the colossal wooden doors.
The morning air was crisp, invigorating the lungs as Chief Darma walked across the courtyard toward the outer guard post. He hadn’t gone far when his footsteps halted. A youth clad in tattered garments approached him, his breathing slightly ragged, his fingers nervously wringing the hem of his shirt.
”Excuse me, Elder. My name is Asikin,” the boy said, lowering his head deeply out of deference. “Is… is that grand structure at the end of the path Lord Ken’s pavilion?” he asked hesitantly, pointing a trembling finger at the most imposing wooden architecture in the village.
”Indeed… your guess is correct,” Chief Darma answered, a faint, grandfatherly smile blooming on his weathered visage. “What business do you have with him, Child?”
”Are… are mere commoners like myself permitted to seek an audience with Lord Ken directly?” Asikin asked, his voice quivering under the warring tides of desperate hope and profound fear.
Chief Darma fell silent for a moment, recalling Ken’s specific decree from just moments ago. He then gazed at the boy with eyes full of gentle compassion. “Of course you may. He is already awaiting your arrival inside the hall. Go on.”
Asikin’s eyes widened in sheer disbelief. “T-truly? Thank you immensely, Elder!” He bowed deeply once more before breaking into a light jog toward the grand pavilion.
Upon reaching the threshold, Asikin’s pace slowed, turning exceedingly cautious. He gulped, his eyes sweeping the interior in sheer awe. The grand hall was breathtakingly expansive, supported by colossal, towering wooden pillars. The air within was dead silent, as though completely isolated from the chaos of the mortal realm. At the far end of the hall, seated upon the seat of honor, was a figure maintaining a relaxed posture—yet exuding an invisible aura that instinctively forced anyone to harbor the urge to kneel.
”Lord Ken… please forgive my insolence yesterday for failing to recognize your true identity,” Asikin spoke, shattering the silence. He immediately bowed his head deeply, not daring to meet the eyes of the man upon the throne.
”There is no need for such formalities. Raise your head,” Ken replied, a light, ethereal smile gracing his lips. “How is your mother faring this morning?”
”Thanks to your boundless benevolence… Mother’s condition has improved leaps and bounds, My Lord. She can even sit up and eat. Once again, I owe you my life,” Asikin professed, his voice thick with profound, unspeakable gratitude.
”Excellent…” Ken murmured softly, his fingers tapping rhythmically against the wooden armrest.
Asikin gathered his fractured courage to take a single step forward. “My Lord, exactly as you promised yesterday… there is a method to completely uproot my mother’s affliction! I beg of you, enlighten me. What must I do, My Lord?” Asikin stared with burning desperation, his eyes blazing like unquenchable embers.
”Indeed… Naturally, I honor my promises. I shall impart the technique to you,” Ken answered with absolute tranquility.
”Hah… T-truly, My Lord?!” Asikin’s heart skipped a beat. His eyes widened into perfect circles, scarcely believing that a peerless martial expert—a literal god of war—would be willing to directly pass down his profound arts to a lowly refugee brat.
”True.” Ken ceased his tapping. He stared directly into the depths of the boy’s pupils, his tone abruptly dropping into a heavy, emotionless cadence. “However… I do not pass my teachings to just anyone.”
Asikin swallowed the dry lump in his throat. His mind raced frantically to decipher the hidden implications behind those words. “Then… what conditions must I fulfill for you to accept me? I swear, I am willing to brave the deepest pits of hell so long as my mother can be fully cured!” he declared resolutely, utterly crushing the anxiety that had been gnawing at his resolve.
”The laws of nature are absolute,” Ken stated, his mysterious voice echoing against the hall’s ancient pillars. “A master, naturally, will only bequeath his arcane arts to his disciple.”
Asikin’s brow furrowed for a fleeting second. Yet, in the next heartbeat, realization struck him like a heavenly tribulation lightning bolt. His eyes widened with sudden enlightenment. “You mean… Very well! I am ready! I beg you to accept me as your disciple, My Lord!” he roared, his voice tearing through the hall’s stillness.
”That is, only if you truly possess a will forged of iron,” Ken countered, his voice flowing softly yet carrying an invisible, crushing weight. “Becoming my disciple is not as simple as it seems.”
Asikin lowered his head momentarily, concealing the tears threatening to spill from his eyes, before snapping his gaze back to Ken. “I understand, My Lord. I am prepared to endure any consequence. I swear to devote my entire life in filial piety and obey your every teaching.” The boy’s voice trembled, suppressing the overwhelming emotion threatening to burst from his chest. Yet, a shadow of doubt clouded his features once more. “But… I am merely an ordinary mortal, My Lord. I was born without a single drop of Star Seal power in my meridians. Would you… not feel disgraced to take in a useless disciple such as myself?”
Ken smiled faintly, a gesture that instantly pulverized all of the boy’s lingering doubts. “To delve into the true path of healing does not necessarily require the combat prowess of a Star Seal as its foundation,” Ken explained gently.
Am I truly worthy of bearing the title of disciple to this legendary figure? Asikin wondered inwardly. However, the warmth radiating from Ken’s words quickly ignited an inextinguishable flame of conviction within his chest.
”Very well, My Lord… I am ready!” Asikin answered, his tone now completely devoid of even the slightest hesitation.
Ken rose from his seat. He descended the steps, his slow, deliberate movements exuding a terrifying pressure that made Asikin hold his breath. “However, engrave this into your mind. To manipulate the healing arts I speak of, I must implant a formation known as the ‘Life Seal’ directly into your core,” Ken explained coldly. “And the implantation process will force you to swallow an unfathomable agony, as if your very bones are being pulverized and meticulously reconstructed.” He stopped right in front of Asikin, his gaze piercing straight through to the boy’s soul. “Tell me, do you possess the fortitude to endure such torment?”
Asikin clenched his jaw tightly, straightening his spine without retreating a single inch. “Yes… I am ready, My Lord,” he answered with absolute finality.
Ken stared at the youth in deafening silence for a few breaths, before finally resting his large palm upon Asikin’s left shoulder. “Asikin… once you have mastered this Life Seal technique in the future, I demand one thing of you: use your hands to help me shield and deliver humanity from their cries of helplessness.”
”As you command, My Lord. I carve that oath into my very soul,” Asikin replied, nodding with ironclad certainty.
”If I may be so bold as to ask… Do you have any other disciples out there, My Lord?” Asikin inquired with a cautious tone.
Ken shook his head slowly, his gaze drifting far beyond the walls of the great hall. “Throughout my entire life… ever since my feet touched the soil of this continent… today marks the very first time I have opened my doors to accept a disciple.”
Asikin froze rigidly. His eyes widened in absolute shock. “Th-then… I am your first disciple?” His voice squeaked and trembled, violently tossed between overwhelming pride and a profound shock that paralyzed his common sense.
Suddenly, a torrential storm of emotion surged within the depths of the boy’s soul. He took a single step backward, then dropped to one knee upon the wooden floor with a soft thud. He raised his right hand level with his chest, his palm open and facing forward—a sacred gesture of oath-swearing unique to cultivators in the martial realm. His childish demeanor was entirely replaced by an absolute, unwavering solemnity.
”As your First Disciple, I swear before the heavens and the earth! I shall forever revere and execute every command of my Master without a single word of defiance. I shall cultivate until I shatter the boundaries of death, become stronger, and forge myself into a shield that protects humanity from despair!” he declared with a resonant, blazing voice. “Thank you… for plucking me from the dust and elevating me as your disciple, Master.”
Ken stared at the small figure kneeling before him for a long moment, allowing the echoes of that sacred oath to seep into the very foundations of the hall. Slowly, a genuine smile blossomed across his visage. “Yes… I accept your oath.” He withdrew his hand from Asikin’s shoulder. “The implantation of the Life Seal requires three days of meticulous preparation. Return here tomorrow morning exactly at the break of dawn. Starting tomorrow, I shall be waiting for you here.”
Asikin looked up, his eyes sparkling. “As you command, My Lord… a-ah, Master…” Asikin gasped, suddenly remembering his new status, his visage instantly flushing crimson at his slip of the tongue. “Please forgive my insolence. Am I permitted to address you as Master from this day forward?”
”Naturally, you may,” Ken replied calmly.
”Understood, Master! Once again, thank you for this heavenly grace, Master!” Asikin expressed, a blindingly bright smile blooming across his face. “If you will excuse me, allow me to withdraw for a moment to deliver this joyous news to my mother. She will surely weep tears of joy hearing this!”
”Wait a moment.” Ken flipped his palm over the empty void, and a small crystal vial containing a pristine, clear essence materialized out of thin air. He handed the vial over. “Take this. Administer this recovery essence to your mother to expedite the restoration of her vitality.”
Asikin accepted the icy vial with trembling hands, his heart brimming with absolute reverence. “I will never forget your boundless benevolence, Master.”
The sun had begun its ascent as Asikin sprinted through the bustling crowd toward the refugee sector in the south. From a distance, he spotted his mother sitting outside their meager hut, leaning against the wall, engaging in warm conversation and sharing soft laughter with several village women. Her visage was no longer deathly pale like the day before.
”Mother…! Mother, come here for a moment!” Asikin called out, waving frantically before gently pulling her arm away from the gathering.
”Whoa, slow down. What is it, Child? Your face is absolutely glowing today,” his mother asked with a tender smile, wiping a smudge of dust from her son’s forehead.
”Mother… I bring heaven-shaking news!” Asikin exclaimed, his eyes sparkling like morning stars. “You will never believe this… I have just been officially accepted as Master Ken’s disciple, Mother!”
His mother frowned slightly, attempting to digest the unfamiliar name. “Master Ken?” she asked softly, not entirely registering the identity behind the title.
”Yes, Mother! Lord Ken—the peerless youth who cured you yesterday! He is the Supreme Leader of the Siama Alliance!” Asikin explained, practically exploding with uncontainable enthusiasm.
”Hah… Heavens, is what you say true?!” His mother’s eyes widened drastically, her hands flying to cover her mouth in overwhelming shock.
”I swear upon the heavens, Mother! Master Ken will personally guide me and impart his arcane healing arts to me. Once I master it, I will absolutely be able to eradicate your affliction completely, and… I can also save the lives of those out there who suffer the same fate as us!” His voice trembled, laden with a soaring hope that pierced the very heavens.
His mother fell into a stunned silence. Tears of profound emotion welled up in her eyes before cascading down her cheeks. “Thank the heavens… Oh, Lord, I am so incredibly happy to hear this, my child.” The woman’s trembling hands reached out, gently caressing her young son’s jaw. “Engrave this into your heart. This is a life debt and a debt of gratitude of unfathomable proportions. You must temper your resolve, cultivate diligently, and obey every single word your Master speaks without ever uttering a complaint, understand?”
”I will, Mother! I swear I will never disappoint you… and I will never bring shame to Master Ken’s name!” Asikin replied, clenching his fists tightly over his chest.
Bear witness, heavens… I will ascend this martial path and become strong… For Mother, for those weeping in agony… and to repay the boundless grace of my Master, Asikin vowed silently in his heart, igniting the eternal lantern of his cultivation for the very first time.