Above The Sky
Chapter 348 - 348 320 Hand of Crystal 13

348: Chapter 320: Hand of Crystal (1/3) 348: Chapter 320: Hand of Crystal (1/3) Perhaps it was a bizarre coincidence, or maybe the sudden storm in the Southern Sea was an anomaly caused by changes in the ruins.

After Ian and his companions returned to Harrison Port, the downpour gradually ceased.

The curtain of rain thinned, the thick clouds slowly parted, revealing the golden sunlight glistening behind them.

Only when they saw beams of light descending from the Southern Sea firmament to the azure sea did they somewhat realize that it was indeed noon, despite the gloomy weather of the past few days having obscured their sense of time.

After disembarking, Ian was immediately whisked away to the White Folks’ Elder’s Hall by Elder Prude.

Theoretically, Ian, having just returned from the Labyrinth, was supposed to be interrogated by the Nineteenth Legion as soon as possible, as matters involving a Labyrinth of this level certainly necessitated the signing of a confidentiality agreement.

But in The Empire such a structure meant that ‘theoretically’ was almost impossible to occur, while ‘exceptions’ were common.

Not to mention Master Gossay had specially instructed ‘not to disturb the young man’ out of their reluctance to trouble themselves…

Even if there were sticklers insisting on an inquiry.

Theoretically, Ian is a registered Sublimator, First Energy Level, assigned under Viscount Grant, Governor of South Ridge Harrison Port, as ‘Municipal Hall’s Special Appraiser’ and ‘Official Alchemist of Harrison Port’, a genius Spirit Energy User, also associated with a local White Folks’ commerce, a veritable bigwig.

With his status, an official of principal rank was required to personally oversee the interrogation, complete with tea and pastries, as was proper etiquette.

It would be one thing if it were a normal time—now, nearly all the upper echelons were busy warming up to Master Gossay and Yisen Gard, leaving no time to seek Ian out.

Quickly filing a report just for the sake of it would suffice, with everyone busy, and without the supervision of the Imperial Capital and the Inspector Knights, who would be bothered to actually exert themselves?

After all, how much does the Imperial Capital pay?

Would it be worth their while to create problems for no reason, causing troubles for other Sublimators and local toughs?

“I won’t inquire about the specifics; later on, you select some things I need to know to tell me so that I can give the Viscount an account,”

Inside the Elder’s Hall, Elder Prude set down his umbrella, unfastened his rain-soaked greatcoat, and hung it on the nearby clothes rack: “For now, go take a bath…

you can’t smell it yourself, but you reek of blood.”

He changed into a long robe, then took out a set of clean clothes, handing them to Ian: “I don’t mind, but don’t make Elan uncomfortable.”

“Eh?”

Ian, who had been holding Elan on the way back, asking him if he had been eating properly these past few days, and if he had completed his daily tasks, was slightly taken aback.

He genuinely forgot about the smell of blood—having killed many people and beasts in the ruins over these past few days, he had indeed become somewhat desensitized.

But on reflection, it wasn’t unusual that he reeked of blood, especially since he had just killed a dozen navy men from Fiery Flame Land.

The young man looked down at his little brother, who was batting his eyes at him: “Does it smell bad?

Remember to tell me if it does.”

“No way!” the boy replied righteously, “I can’t smell it at all!”

Ian considered for a moment; he remembered that Elan’s previously dull senses had improved significantly over the past few years, and although his sense of smell was still somewhat dull, he should have been able to detect the smell of blood.

Elder Prude said with a hint of irritation: “Alright, even if you were covered in the stench of rotten fish, Elan would not say it smells bad.

Go take a bath quickly, and let me know if there’s anything specific you’d like to eat, considering you probably haven’t had a decent meal in the ruins these past few days.”

“I didn’t eat at all,” Ian put down the compliant Elan and then picked up the clean clothes, ready to head to the washroom: “But I’ve had plenty of Stamina Potions, thanks to Master Gossay, I must’ve drunk about a hundred Talle’s worth.”

“Stamina Potions, huh…”

Elder Prude clearly understood what that implied, as he too had once been a member of a prestigious Imperial family.

The old man repeated the words with a complex tone and then shook his head: “Well then, I will order some extra dishes.”

The second-floor bathroom was usually reserved for Elder Prude’s personal use and in recent years, he had added a hot spring bath, imitating the public baths in the New City District.

The goose egg stone-paved pool even featured a function for massaging the soles of the feet, which was quite popular with the older folks.

Although Ian wouldn’t be chastised for taking a quick soak while everyone was waiting for him to come to dinner, he preferred not to indulge in a bath at such a time—he turned on the faucet to rinse himself off.

Whoosh…

Water poured down.

It must be said that the Viscount’s construction efforts over the years had indeed paid off.

Although the hot water supplied by the residual heat from the Alchemy Furnace Core wasn’t available throughout all of Harrison Port, at least eighty percent of the residential areas had access to it.

From a leader’s perspective, Viscount Grant was quite an outstanding lord.

He truly made his domain better and better, although he couldn’t look after everyone and enjoyed some prioritization, but he certainly strove for the future of his people.

However, no one is perfect, just as Patrick had said before he died, his friend’s ambition was not great.

If nothing unexpected happened, maybe the Viscount would spend his life trying to make Harrison Port better…

but if he had greater ambitions, then he would devote all his efforts to serving those ambitions.

Be it targeting the ruins or the Natives, Ailes Grant had his ways and determination to achieve his goals.

“This hand…”

Ian washed himself quickly, or more accurately, he wasn’t very dirty to begin with—most of the blood had stained his clothes, and the youth’s body was protected by Origin Quality, so even swords couldn’t harm him, let alone mere filth.

He washed his body and hair, though calling it cleaning would be less accurate than describing it as a ritualistic habit, a custom.

At this moment, he could think more clearly about certain matters.

After drying off with a towel and about to change into clean clothes, he caught sight of his left arm.

The left arm that had fused with Morien Steel and the Spark Furnace Core.

This arm now exhibited a special crystalline jade quality, especially pronounced on the forearm, like a kind of pure white jade etched with cyan metallic patterns that ebbed and flowed with the circulation of Origin Quality within Ian.

No, it wasn’t cyan, but the semi-translucent pattern of Morien Steel—just tinted a light cyan because of Ian’s penetrating Origin Quality.

The arm was heavy, causing a slight shift in Ian’s center of gravity, but that wasn’t a big problem, as Sublimators were supposed to adapt to such special physical structures.

If he couldn’t even handle this, he might as well give up on fighting in the future.

As for its appearance, Ian had a set of alchemic gloves that could cover this part, although the cyan patterns on the upper arm and shoulder couldn’t be hidden…

but generally, nobody paid too much attention to that.

In Terra, inscribable badges and battle patterns were common, especially in such frontier lands imbued with Native cultural ambiance.

The only question was…

“Does this count as my fourth First Energy Level Sublimation Organ?”

Facing the mirror, Ian furrowed his brows as he touched the mirror image of the locations where several of his Sublimation Organs were: “Liver—Sand Armor Rock Core, Thymus—Heart of Fertile Soil, Spine—Pure Rock Crystal Bone.”

“Silver Chip, the Wave Singer’s ‘Microtide Pearl’ and ‘Chanting Throat’—along with the ‘Fairy Wings’ that allowed for the transferral of the Fairy Bloodline, my six Sublimation Structures are indeed what make me far stronger than the average Sublimator.”

“But I can become even stronger—whether it’s by fixing the Ancient Dragon Heart Core my teacher left me, attempting to transform into the Fairy Bloodline, or by developing a fourth Sand Armor Apprentice Sublimation Organ, I can grow stronger.”

Only by exceeding limits to become stronger could he step by step forge the path to the Sixth Energy Level.

Of course, in the future, Ian believed he would definitely find a more convenient path to the Sixth Energy Level…

He didn’t think reaching the Sixth Energy Level was as complex and difficult as his teacher imagined, that one necessarily had to unlock five limit organs to advance to the Domain of Extremes.

There had to be a key trick that would allow a smooth transition from the Fifth to the Sixth Energy Level and make the journey to the Fifth Energy Level more accessible.

But since they had no precedent to follow and no foreseeable successors, they could only try.

This was the meaning of inheritance and the ‘value of being a pioneer’.