A cold sensation emanated from his wrist, spreading throughout his entire body, as if an invisible eye were staring deep into his soul. He held his breath for a moment and furrowed his brows.
Earlier, when he had seen the bodies of the warriors and felt their powerful auras, he realized they belonged to an elite group of the strong. But now, he was utterly stunned by the strength of this small tribe.
Everyone knew that when Arcane Masters reached a certain level, they developed what was known as "superior perception," akin to having extra eyes that could see everything. For the first time in his life, he felt this sensation sweeping over his entire body.
Despite his astonishment, his eyes never left the priest’s, and he cautiously observed the expressions on the priest’s face.
At first, he noticed the priest opening his eyes in surprise, but after a few seconds, that surprise turned into deep confusion, causing the priest’s brows to arch.
A few seconds later, the priest hesitantly removed his cold hand from Sollivan’s wrist, as if wanting to examine his body again, but he didn’t. Instead, he turned to look at the Supreme Leader.
At that moment, Sollivan let out a sigh of relief.
But before he could fully relax, he felt a strong hand grip his arm. He slowly turned his head and frowned at Willard, but he didn’t utter a word, enduring it in silence. Then he refocused his attention on the priest, who remained silent.
A strange look appeared in the priest’s eyes, and Sollivan listened intently to what he would say next.
This was his only chance to unravel some of the mysteries surrounding his condition and gain information. Ever since he noticed the cautious way the warriors had treated him, his mind had been filled with questions.
After a moment of hesitation, the priest declared firmly, "He indeed possesses primal blood. The young leader’s suspicions were not mistaken." His words struck like a thunderbolt, leaving everyone in shock.
Even the guards, who had remained as silent as statues, involuntarily stumbled in their places. Everyone turned at the same moment and stared at Sollivan with sharp eyes filled with fear.
Even Sollivan himself opened his mouth in astonishment. ’Primal blood? What is that? Why is everyone so shocked? Is it something great or terrible?’*
At first, he thought the priest’s answer would clear up the confusion, but it only deepened his bewilderment. He quickly glanced around, his eyes eventually landing on the Supreme Leader, whose face bore a stern and serious expression, though he tried to hide it.
No one noticed that the priest had shown a strange expression and hesitantly opened his mouth before declaring once more.
"His blood is primal, but it is not pure. It is filled with impurities, and he is not a pure Kornavar like us. In fact, he is a hybrid of another race."
Everyone in the room gasped again, and even the Supreme Leader let out a relieved sigh, his tense expression easing slightly. Sollivan, who had been observing him from the beginning, noticed this and felt a sharp pang in his heart.
He turned his head and scanned the faces of those present, finding that their shock had lessened, replaced by complex expressions. He didn’t understand why.
’The word "hybrid" changed everyone’s attitude. What does it mean? And why am I a hybrid? Are all these changes that happened to me because of that strange black book?’
The questions in his mind multiplied, but he remembered something.
’So their race is called Kornavar. I was sure they weren’t human like me, even though I’ve become half-Kornavar and something else.’
After a minute of silence, Blear asked the question that was on everyone’s mind.
"What is his full race, Your Eminence, the High Priest? You are the only one qualified to determine that."
There weren’t many races in their world, and the vast plains they lived in were ruled by scattered tribes. No trace of other races had appeared throughout known history.
Blear was burning with curiosity, as he was a young man who had yet to experience the adventures of exploring the distant world. Though he tried to hide it, his question carried a hint of envy.
In the "Red Horns" tribe, the High Priest was the most knowledgeable, for two reasons. First, as a priest, he had studied in the Priest’s Tower, granting him knowledge even the Supreme Leader couldn’t access.
Second, Priest Otieno had left the tribe in his youth and wandered the plains. There were rumors that he had reached the western borders before heading to the central city where the Priest’s Tower stood.
The priest remained silent and didn’t answer Blear immediately, but the latter wasn’t annoyed and waited patiently. Everyone understood that determining the race of a stranger was a difficult task.
Even Sollivan felt curious and wanted to know the answer. He looked at the priest, who seemed lost in thought, and suddenly the priest turned to him and grabbed his wrist again.
He felt the same cold shiver, but this time he didn’t flinch. Instead, the priest stared at Sollivan, examining every part of his body.
He withdrew his hand and touched Sollivan’s forehead with his cold fingers, feeling the smooth black scales, unlike their own hard scales. He opened Sollivan’s eyes and looked into his black pupils, then placed his hand on his chin and opened his mouth.
No one interrupted, and everyone waited in anticipation. Even the Supreme Leader, who had dominated the atmosphere in the room, faded into the background as everyone’s curiosity grew.
Meeting someone with primal blood was no ordinary event, even if his blood was impure.
After a moment of silence, everyone regained their composure, and the shock on their faces was replaced with looks of challenge and envy. Even Willard, who stood to the side, shot Sollivan a glance of inexplicable hatred.
Finally, the priest released Sollivan’s hand and stepped back slightly, allowing Sollivan to breathe a sigh of relief. His entire body had been examined to the point where he felt embarrassed and violated by the intrusion into his privacy.
The priest looked at the Supreme Leader, and this time his gaze was filled with relief, without any confusion or hesitation.
He said calmly, "He is half-human. This explains why his body lacks any distinctive features and why he is so weak. Everyone knows that humans are impure beings, with a weak lineage and great sin."
All of Sollivan’s complex emotions vanished, replaced by a strange expression on his face. He had been eager to learn any information about humans, but what he heard froze him in place. "Humans are a sinful and weak race."
He didn’t fully understand the meaning of the priest’s words, but he realized they were directed at the Supreme Leader, who now looked completely at ease.
Sollivan wasn’t stupid, and he immediately understood that the tribe had been tense because of his primal blood, but learning that he was a human hybrid had dispelled their concerns.
’What does this mean? Humans can’t be that weak. Even if their tribe is strong, I’m sure the Golden Lion Empire could easily wipe out this tribe.
Is there a reason behind this? And what does he mean by lineage? Humans in my world rely on energy, not lineages like beasts.’
There were significant differences in the concepts he knew.
The humans who ruled his world were merely an impure and weak race in this world, and perhaps their training methods were different or nonexistent. He didn’t understand the intense hatred for humans, but the word "sinful" gave him an idea of their status.
Willard glanced at Sollivan with a hint of hidden schadenfreude, then turned his attention to the Supreme Leader.
After uncovering the mystery surrounding Sollivan, the High Priest returned to stand behind the large throne, awaiting the Supreme Leader’s final decision.
Blear, standing at the back, sighed softly and let out a long breath, then looked at Sollivan one last time and muttered under his breath, "My worry was unnecessary, but things won’t end so simply. Even if he’s half-human, he still has primal blood. It’s clear that Father won’t rush into any decisions."
His thoughts were on point. Earlier, when they were leading Sollivan to the tribe, he had sent a message to his father, informing him of everything, but he kept some ambiguity.
He didn’t tell them that Sollivan had primal blood, only that he suspected it. The strange characteristics of Sollivan had made them certain that something was amiss, and now everything was clear.
The Supreme Leader’s stern gaze swept over everyone in the room, making them shiver. Then he spoke in a rough, authoritative voice, "This person will remain with us, and we won’t make any decisions for now. To avoid any unwanted incidents, he will be marked with the Well’s seal. As for everyone present here, you will keep everything that happened a secret. This is confidential information that must not reach enemy tribes or even members of our own tribe. Blear, relay my words to your followers. Anyone who dares to leak this information will be exterminated along with their family. This tribe has not encountered any strangers in recent days."
Everyone fell silent and listened intently. Even after hearing his threat of execution for traitors, no one blinked or seemed surprised. In fact, his orders were less severe than they had expected.
The Supreme Leader raised his hand and opened his mouth, but he paused for a moment. "This hybrid will be detained in the Well’s Tower. He cannot leave, and no one can meet him. Priest Otieno."
The priest stepped forward quickly and stood before the Supreme Leader with utmost respect. "What are your orders, Your Excellency?"
"I leave this person in your custody. Handle him with care." The Supreme Leader’s tone was cold and threatening. A dark glint appeared in his eyes as he scrutinized Priest Otieno.
The priest showed no reaction, only bowing his head slightly and replying submissively, "Your words are law, my lord. Who would dare to disobey?"
The Supreme Leader waved his hand, "Everyone may leave, except Blear."
His tone was as cold as ever, but it softened slightly when he mentioned his son’s name. No one reacted to the order, and everyone began to leave, including the guards.
Sollivan remained standing, observing the room with a dark, enigmatic expression.
Because of this, Willard yanked him forcefully, causing him to stumble and rush toward the door.
A mocking smile appeared on Willard’s face, as if he were laughing silently, but Sollivan only gave him a sidelong glance before straightening his posture and walking slowly, as if he weren’t a prisoner but a guest.
His cold demeanor wasn’t unjustified. He hadn’t been in control of his fate since being captured. If his fate was death, he would accept it with dignity without bowing his head to these people.
As he walked proudly through the castle’s corridor, he felt an intense cold spreading across his back.
Without turning around, he sensed a cold presence behind him, rendering him unable to do anything but walk in silence. Even the pride in his steps faded, and he couldn’t maintain his composure.
Behind him, beside Willard, Priest Otieno suddenly appeared and walked silently, his strange eyes fixed on Sollivan’s back.
Because of this sudden appearance, Willard shuddered and broke out in a cold sweat.
All his arrogance and mockery vanished, and his steps became devoid of pride, as if he had tucked his head into his neck, wanting to disappear from the priest’s sight. The priests weren’t particularly liked by the tribe members due to their strange temperaments and dark auras.
Everyone knew the reason was their dealings with the Well, which tainted everything around it. Despite their deep respect for the priests, they couldn’t coexist with them amicably.
"Damn it," Sollivan cursed silently and swallowed a mouthful of cold saliva. He didn’t know why, but ever since meeting the priest, he had felt a bad premonition. Though it was unnatural, he didn’t want to ignore it.
Since coming to this world, his strange senses had saved him from several deadly dangers. He frowned worriedly, *’This man has something bad in mind.
I don’t know what it is, but it’s not good for me. Even the Supreme Leader seemed wary of him earlier, to the point of threatening him not to do anything strange. Can’t things be easier?’* Even his desire to curse vanished, replaced by deep sarcasm at his bad luck.
...
After leaving the Supreme Leader’s palace and passing through the silent, torch-lit tribe, Sollivan, his guards, and the High Priest finally reached the end of the main street running through the center of the tribe, arriving at the protective wall.
But this side looked completely different due to the cylindrical tower connected to it. In the wall, there was a massive metal gate guarded by four individuals.
Unlike the regular warriors who wore leather armor, these guards were dressed in dark black robes that covered their entire bodies, similar to the High Priest, but with additional layers of light leather armor over their robes, indicating their status as warrior priests.
When they saw the High Priest and the entourage of guards accompanying him, two guards stepped forward and gently touched their chests with their palms.
Their greeting was gentle, unlike the warriors’ salute, which was filled with cruelty and strength, making Sollivan slightly surprised. To him, the priests seemed like an independent organization, even though they were part of the tribe. Even their base was outside the city walls and strangely fortified.
"Open the gate. You two will guard this person. The rest, leave."
The priest gestured for the accompanying warriors and Willard to leave, which they did without hesitation.
In fact, their steps were unusually quick, making Sollivan feel that there was something wrong with the place he was being taken to.
He raised his head, looking up at the tall, dark tower, then took a step forward toward the guards standing in front of him.
He had spent a long and arduous day, and exhaustion weighed heavily on his body, but he kept his senses alert, watching the black door leading into the tower as it slowly opened.
As soon as it opened wide enough, a chilling darkness seeped into the area, and the torches around him seemed to dim significantly.
For a moment, he thought he saw shadows moving, forming sinister shapes, but it lasted only a brief moment before everything returned to normal, and the interior of the tower became clear before him.
The guards pushed him inside, and they walked alongside the priest through a long corridor with branching side passages, lined with torches and doors along the walls.
Their footsteps made faint sounds as they led him to an unknown destination, and during that time, he began to carefully examine his surroundings. He looked at the walls made of square stones but frowned for a moment.
’These aren’t rocks... they’re much lighter. They seem more like a powdered material mixed and shaped in some way.’
He had read about some civilizations that built their homes from certain types of soil that later hardened to become as strong as rock.
He had also read about secret techniques that could alter the nature of materials through complex reactions, making them suitable for use in specific environments.
Only a few minutes had passed inside this strange tower, but he immediately realized it wasn’t an ordinary structure—it had been built for a specific purpose.
The tower was massive, with many rooms and floors, and he caught glimpses of staircases leading to them as he walked. He continued analyzing everything around him until the group stopped in front of a large white door guarded by two burly men.
Clang!
The priest pulled out a large set of keys from his robe, containing three large keys. He selected one and inserted it into a small hole in the door, then turned it.
Creak!
Rumble!
The door automatically slid to the side, and the ground shook slightly, emitting a loud creaking sound from behind the walls. At that moment, Sollivan was surprised by the thickness and weight of the door, as well as the relatively advanced mechanism in this primitive tribe.
His former kingdom had been highly advanced in several fields, and when he arrived in this tribe, he had thought they were technologically backward. But this moment made him reevaluate his view of them.
"Move."
One of the guards pushed him forward, and they walked through the dark staircase behind the door, but they only took a few steps before encountering another white door.
The priest pulled out another key and opened the door in the same manner, then they continued until they reached the third door, just as Sollivan had expected.
As soon as the last door was opened, the two guards stopped and pushed him forward, past the priest, who showed no interest. Then, without turning to him, the priest pushed him from behind and said coldly, "Keep walking."
Sollivan turned his head slightly, only to be startled by the priest’s eyes, which had become strangely dark, sending a shiver down his spine.
Whoosh!
At that moment, he felt a cold breeze seep into his bones, making him hesitate for a moment before looking toward the end of the dark staircase. Part of him screamed to stop, but the reality was clear—he had no choice. Stopping meant being dragged down by force, which could worsen his situation.
Gulp!
He pushed aside his hesitation and slowly walked down the dark staircase until he reached the bottom. There, he saw a faint light barely illuminating the space ahead, making his blurry vision slightly clearer.
Then, as he took the last step off the staircase, his eyes widened, and his body froze in shock at what he saw before him...