Above The Sky -
Chapter 442 - 442 412 The God of the Forest and the God of the Mountain 13
442: Chapter 412 The God of the Forest and the God of the Mountain (1/3) 442: Chapter 412 The God of the Forest and the God of the Mountain (1/3) The night had passed, and the Nanling Forests at dawn were eerily quiet.
Orange-red sunlight pierced through tree trunks and swaying branches, glistening on dewdrops.
The tall ancient trees were covered with various fungi, mushrooms, and vines, while green, black, and yellow mosses draped every corner of the forest.
Enveloping white mist mingled between all trees, gradually taking on various colors with the breathing of fungi and the forest.
The miasma, or rather, the language of the forest, echoed through the woods with the wind.
The colorful mist symbolized death and poison to Humans, but in reality, it teemed with vibrant life; it was just that Humans were too fragile to understand the power of this complex language.
The forest was alive.
It sounded like a pointless statement; after all, trees simply don’t move, and are alive by nature.
But Elder Man Cliff of the Avod Tribe knew that this was far from a pointless statement— it was an emphasis.
It was not the word ‘alive’ that was being emphasized, but ‘forest.’
At first, it was only the Great Redwood Forest.
These peculiar plants originally possessed a certain sentience, able to harness the forces between Heaven and Earth, gathering them into their own spirits, thus constructing the initial consciousness of the forest sea…
And then, it was no longer just Redwood.
The residents of the Redwood Forest lived within it, coexisting with the forest sea, even gradually becoming a part of each other.
To draw even closer to the forest, they willingly abandoned their ancient technologies—those powerful enough to destroy nature and tame other Magical Beasts— and these powers gradually vanished.
The Redwood People slowly became the ‘self-defense force’ of the forest sea.
The Redwood People believed the forest sea to be one of their Totem Masters to which they offered sacrificial rites.
This was far too presumptuous.
The forest sea was never the totem of any one group of people; it belonged to the land, and every part of life on this land was its offspring.
The Imperial People who came later were no different.
Whether it was the tilled farmland or the cultivated aquatic plants; the bountiful harvest of wheat and rice or the tubers hidden deep within the earth…
all plants, all life dependent on plants, and even the mycelium spreading through the soil and the dispersing spore mist, were gifts from the forest sea, parts of the forest sea.
If the forest sea wished, from the very beginning, the Imperial People wouldn’t have grown a single grain.
But the forest sea, either out of magnanimity or equality, allowed it.
Because they did not care.
They didn’t care if their main body was ‘domesticated’ rice, nor if their power resided in ancient mighty trees or the lush grass by the roadside; they didn’t mind if they were carnivorous Magical Plants that preyed on life or the pasture and fodder nibbled by livestock.
They had transcended — ascended to a higher realm.
Two hundred years ago, several decades ago, at a time unknown to the Redwood People, during the battles between the Imperial People and the Mountain People, and against the Redwood People themselves.
Through countless lives, through battles and deaths, hunts and slaughters, as offerings to it…
The forest sea had reached a realm that even the most prosperous era of the Mountain People could not touch…
The so-called Redwood Forest was just a remnant carcass from its past, a bridge for communication with it.
Therefore, there was no distinction between strong and weak.
Only existence and continuation mattered.
The Elder of the Mountain People silently watched the Nanling Forests below.
Even though most Mountain People no longer followed the ancient teachings of living amidst the mountains, the tribes of the Mountain People still refused to relocate their ancestral lands to the gentler plains.
This was not just a matter of simple custom; the Mountain People understood that it was not the ‘God of the Mountain’ they worshipped, but a more powerful entity.
The God of Mountain and Steel.
“But this is nearing its limit…
If the God does not return…
there will be no reason left for the Mountain People…
to be Mountain People…”
With this thought, Elder Mantle standing on the mountainside sighed and paused, clutching his bone staff.
The silver-haired, green-eyed, dark-skinned elderly Mountain Man turned around, preparing to return to his dwelling at the mountain’s base.
But before descending, he saw two rather familiar figures accompanied by another slightly familiar figure, racing toward his tribe through the nearby woods.
“New friend?”
Squinting slightly, the Elder examined the situation carefully, then revealed a look of shock, “Wait, isn’t that…
isn’t that the little leader of the White Folks from Harrison Port?”
“How did they bring that Knight over here?”
As myriad thoughts flashed through his mind, Elder Mantle’s expression grew increasingly horrified.
He thought of a terrifying possibility, “Wait…
could it be…
could it be that they’ve kidnapped him?!”
“Haven’t I cautioned many times, if we really encountered a possessor of Dragon Blood, to first make friends carefully, and then to guide them slowly?”
The term “kidnapping” obviously wasn’t quite correct, at least not the subject.
In Ian’s view, it was actually he who had kidnapped Anfa and Sio, forcing them to bring him back to their lair.
Regardless, the most dangerous moment had passed.
In the woods, when Anfa applied medicine to him, Ian finally heaved a sigh of relief—If those two kept making a fuss without administering the medicine, his body’s Ghostly Regeneration Core wouldn’t be able to hold back, and regeneration would begin.
How would he explain then?
Would he say that he wasn’t a delicate Fae Alchemist with a faint heart and fragile skin, but a Silver Fairy Knight capable of aerial combat with dragons?
That would be too big a joke.
Nevertheless, aside from that, Ian had gathered plenty of information.
Sio was indeed a dragon.
Even in this artificial body, the Dragon Blood that remained was very pure, and his Origin Quality gave off an aura similar to the Ancient Dragon Heart Core, showing both wind and fire elements.
The reason his own Origin Quality was mistaken by Anfa and Sio for being of the water and earth Dragon lineage was probably due to the illusion caused by the combination of the Earth Series Ancient Dragon Heart Core and the enhancements from the Aether Crystal on Fae Origin Quality.
Moreover…
“They are indeed together.
They are more familiar with one another than I imagined.”
Even without opening his eyes, Ian’s acute Fae senses allowed him to be keenly aware of the areas he passed through.
By comparing the locations with the map inside his Silver Chip, it was easy to know that he was continuously drawing closer to Indigo Mountain and the Abode Tribe near the mid-mountain ravine where the Mountain People lived.
And the Abode Tribe…
wasn’t that the tribe of the Elder who was very likely to recognize the dragon-related aura on him?
As Ian was contemplating this, Anfa and Sio had already carried him, their ‘injured’ captive, to the outskirts of the Abode Tribe village at the fastest speed.
Elder Mantle stood in front of Anfa and Sio with a few of his guards, a solemn expression on his face.
“I sent you to fetch Anfa; why did it take you so long to return?
If you want to go out and play, inform us in advance so you don’t worry The King and me!”
The Elder glared at Sio, who, despite having a strength similar to Sio’s current body, dared to scold the other—who had the power of a Third Energy Level behind his dragon form—”The King told me yesterday that after you finish your tasks, you should report back…
Does He want to see you?
He’s worried you’re in trouble.”
“Don’t make your mother worry!”
“Yes, yes…
my fault…
I will contact my mother immediately…”
Sio nodded obediently, obviously holding a great deal of respect for the Elder and showing none of the arrogance often portrayed in the ‘dragon’ characterizations found within many chronicles and tales.
“Anfa, please forgive my directness, but what is this all about?”
Turning his head, Elder Mantle looked at the green-haired Elves Scholar, his brow furrowed, at the White Folks Knight lying unconscious on the Elf’s back, “This Knight…
he was indeed one of our intended targets for development, but certainly not through such violent means.”
“He has awakened the Dragon Blood left by his ancestors, thus he is naturally our companion.
In that case, we should simply get close to him gradually, there’s no need to rush.”
“Little Grant, although not as bold and charismatic as his father, might have stronger abilities, and Pude, despite lacking in creativity, is one of the few in South Ridge who could manage to forge an Alchemical Cannon.”
At this point, the Elder paused, somewhat angrily tapping his Bone Staff, “I led the tribe to join the Dragon Worship Cult, not to sow enmity with the Naling Nobility and the White Folks.”
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