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Life in the Mortal Realm
墨書 Inktalez
The Great Catastrophe had passed tens of thousands of years ago. The survivors struggled to develop in this world, where the truth was buried beneath the dust of history. Some sought the elusive legends, traversing every corner of the world in search of so-called opportunities.
A river, known as the Great River, flowed from the northwest peak towards the southeast, like a scar embedded in the land. The upper reaches of the river were sparsely populated, with its source covered by a forest shrouded in mist. Anyone who ventured into the fog never returned alive.
The entire forest spread out like a massive carpet over the earth, with peaks jutting abruptly from the ground, resembling enormous pillars piercing the sky.
"Boom!" Water cascaded down from a height, crashing onto the stones at the riverbed with a thunderous sound. It was said to be the largest waterfall along the river. Here, the land had fractured and subsided, forming a cliff that soared a thousand feet high. The wide expanse of water was split into numerous waterfalls by protruding boulders, cascading downwards. The mist rising from the falls created a magnificent rainbow under the sunlight.
A large rock jutted out from the riverbank, half-suspended at the edge of the waterfall. On this rock sat a small figure, staring blankly at the waterfall. In the western sky, clouds gradually turned red, while in the east, a dark hue began to appear on the horizon, speckled with faint lights.
Shifting his gaze away from the waterfall and looking towards the distant skyline, he took a deep breath. A youthful face bore traces of worry and helplessness as he stood up, adjusted his ill-fitting clothes, shook his head, and walked towards the riverbank. Nightfall was approaching; he needed to hurry back. He swiftly navigated through the forest, sunlight filtering through gaps in the treetops and casting beams onto the ground like shafts of light descending from above. As darkness deepened, he quickened his pace; he had to return before night enveloped everything.
In the forest, light faded further. After rounding a mountain, he spotted flickering flames in a clearing and paused to catch his breath against a large tree before heading towards it.
In the clearing, several massive trees had been felled, leaving stumps about half a meter high protruding from the ground. In the center stood a single-story wooden cabin. In front of it sat a scruffy old man gnawing on a Beast Leg while occasionally lifting a gourd to take a swig.
"That's yours; hurry up and eat," said the disheveled old man, gesturing to a large piece of roasted meat resting on one of the stumps without even looking up.
Approaching the stump and glancing at the meat emitting a burnt aroma, he sighed and rubbed his stomach before sitting cross-legged by the fire pit. He lifted the roasted meat to his nose, inhaled deeply, then closed his eyes and took big bites of the beast flesh.
He began to gnaw on it right away; after all, the old man's roasting skills were rather poor—one could even say they were terrible—but at that moment, he didn't care about that. The old man had an inexplicable confidence in his cooking abilities. Although he had protested before about it being bad, he was always met with retorts: "If you want it done right, you have to do it yourself." He had tried hunting on his own but found himself merely an ordinary person unable to catch even the weakest Beast nearby; each attempt left him either covered in dirt or bruised.
"Have you remembered anything?" The old man tossed aside a bone and wiped his mouth with his sleeve. The child had been found near the river not far away. Originally sent by Sect to exchange goods at another location, he arrived too late only to find ruins instead. Planning to return home disappointedly, he received word from Sect directing him to this place—reluctantly considering it an opportunity to evade trouble for a while.
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