Thinking about the strong, he couldn’t help but think of the so-called –Headquarters.–
Only because there existed something known as the statue — controlling those there meant nearly dominating the city. Many abilities required the statue to be used; if only he could go to a scene where the statue existed.
He entertained the thought idly, never actually expecting to arrive at a place like where the statue dwelled.
Just as Yang Zicang continued to ponder in his mind, contemplating which dream world would yield the greatest gains, suddenly, the frame composed of Moxel light in his hand expanded and transformed into an envelope.
[I wish to go to a world where I can obtain combat techniques and the statue — is it possible to mail such intent across time and space?]
What!
Yang Zicang sat up abruptly, looking at the –envelope of light– in his hand. On its cover appeared twisted, unfamiliar script.
–Could I really… go to a world with a statue like the one at Headquarters?–
His heartbeat quickened involuntarily.
At this thought, Yang Zicang simply added more desires in his mind.
What other issues could he resolve all at once?
Healing potions, more Chronos, greater power…
If I were to truly explore all that, it would be far too much… He wanted to understand how this world worked, what the statues signified, and to gain the high-level abilities needed to carve out a place here, as well as find a way back to Earth…
Yang Zicang thought of a whole litany of things, watching as more and more phrases accumulated in his mind, he suppressed the craving in his heart.
–I can’t add so many conditions, it will definitely backfire, and then I might end up with nothing.–
After making his choices, he whispered softly to himself:
–I want to go to a thematic world, one connected to the world’s core secrets, related to the statues, where I can obtain its peak powers, a relatively safe place.–
The letters on the envelope decreased significantly as his voice faded.
[Send mail to this thematic space-time?]
–Yes!–
[Postage fee, 1R.]
That cheap?
Before Yang Zicang could linger on the thought, the already dim room swirled into chaos, morphing into a rotating gray mist.
The glowing envelope of a letter transformed into a vortex of consciousness, its immense pull sucking him in as if it were tearing his soul from his body.
In an instant, Yang Zicang felt his consciousness being drawn in, his vision spinning wildly.
A dreamlike voice echoed vaguely from deep within his consciousness.
[The Lost Court, Verdant White Star, at your service…]
[I have consumed 1R of my Chronos principal.]
[I consumed one postal delivery attempt, 2/3 remaining.]
……
The air was thick with the scent of verdant foliage and wood.
Amidst the chorus of birdsong, Yang Zicang slowly opened his eyes, finding himself lying in a jungle of ancient, gnarled trees.
[Tip from the Azure & White Star: Here, you may accelerate time.]
The sky was clear and blue, the trees offered ample shade, and the breeze brushed against his skin like a soothing, caressing veil of silk.
–It feels more real than last time… this place doesn’t seem like a dream.–
The moment he, clad in a blood-stained short-sleeved shirt, stood up, a shadow fell over him.
Boom~
A howling gale swept through, a chaotic, violent gust of air hurling Yang Zicang into a thicket of thorns, instantly lacerating his skin.
A creature of grayish-brown with snapped wings soared into the sky, winging its way towards the distant horizon.
Yang Zicang, his face a mask of sheer disbelief, crawled out of the briars and stumbled to his feet to give chase.
–Was that… a Pterosaur?!–
Shaken to his core, he watched the pterosaur vanish in the distance, a deep unease stirring within him.
–Are there dinosaurs here?–
Yang Zicang leaned against a tree trunk, gazing down the mountainside.
The trees were colossal pillars scraping the sky. The vast world stretched out, wild and empty of human presence.
In the distance, more creatures resembling pterosaurs soared along the mountain peaks.
–Good heavens! This looks nothing like a place with a statue! Don’t tell me I’m in the wrong world!?–
At night, Yang Zicang, after exploring the surrounding area, encountered even more ancient creatures, some of which looked extremely terrifying, such as a giant python with whiskers in the forest.
By the crackling campfire, Yang Zicang pinched his fingers, and a letter-like glow appeared.
–Where the hell did you send me?–
This thing could bring him here twice, meaning it allowed him to enter this dream three times in total, and this was the first.
Besides the clothes on his body, everything he had with him before sleeping now existed in this world, including the bow and a few arrows he had painstakingly retrieved from the C-level interwoven realm.
This was an unexpected blessing; Liang Xi had casually placed the bow next to the sleeping Yang Zicang, after all, such a weapon was useless to that child.
–What a shame about Liang Xi’s sword. If I had known, I would have slept holding it.–
The aroma of food wafted over, and Yang Zicang sniffed, digging two brownish fruits out of the ashes by the campfire.
These were food he had found in the afternoon, similar to sweet potatoes.
Just like the last dream, the skin injured by the thorny forest healed within minutes, and even after walking for half a day, he felt neither thirsty nor hungry. So this was indeed still a dream.
Though there is no need to eat here, one can also indulge in all kinds of delicacies without any restraint.
This is one of the few pastimes in the world of consciousness.
The faint howling of wild beasts came from all around. Yang Zicang looked up, just as the moon hung high in the sky.
[I have consumed 0.12R of the Chronos principal.]
Yang Zicang, who was peeling the skin off a –sweet potato,– heard Moxel’s telepathic voice in response.
His brows furrowed.
It had been noon in the dream world when he entered; now, exactly twelve hours had passed.
–So this is what it means to consume Chronos. Is the length of time I stay here determined by how much Chronos I have?–
If that were really the case, then he would truly understand what it meant to have a dream as fleeting as a millet-filled pillow—a momentary delusion.
–Ooh-ah, ooh-ah!–
Countless footsteps echoed from the forest, and lithe figures with protruding lips, covered in long, coarse hair, and hunched rough-skinned bodies scurried over from all directions, their hair disheveled.
Some of them, agile in their movements, climbed up the large trees in two or three moves, glaring covetously down at Yang Zicang.
–Wah aah, wah wah!–
They held stones and wooden clubs in their hands, staring at the campfire in the middle with a mix of fear and intense curiosity.
–Ape-men? Cavemen?–
Crack. A branch snapped.
Deliberately hunched over, a towering, muscular humanoid silhouette emerged from the darkness behind these dozen or so savages.
A belt woven from vines hung at his waist, from which dangled two small wolf’s skulls.
–It’s drawn by this, huh?– Yang Zicang smirked, tossing the peeled sweet potato he’d just opened.
His Soliton ability activated, and the sweet potato landed steadily in the creature’s grasp—the precision of the toss drawing a chorus of wooo-oh-oh cheers.
In this world guided by the completed Mail Insignia, his Moxel ability still worked, and Yang Zicang mused this might be the response from the so-called –safe world– he had envisioned.
With his Moxel ability, he was indeed much safer.
But perhaps in this world reached by the completed Mail Insignia, everyone’s Moxel abilities could be used.
The burly savage took the roasted sweet potato in his claw, sniffed it, and after a long hesitation, pressured by the –mm-mm– urgings of his kin, tore off a small piece with doubt and pushed it into his mouth.
The roasted sweet potato melted on his tongue the moment it entered. The towering savage froze like he’d been struck by thunder, his eyes bulging wide.
He chewed in disbelief.
–Ooh~!–
The Wildling leader suddenly spun around on the spot, darting about as he pounded his chest and howled, appearing to taste such delicious food for the first time in his life.
After tearing off half a sweet potato for himself, he tossed the remaining half away, and the other Wildlings immediately scrambled for it, creating utter chaos.
–Whoa, whoa oooh oooh ohhh!–
Yang Zicang watched them with a smile, but soon found himself unable to keep smiling.
Having tasted the roasted sweet potatoes, the Wildlings’ appetites surged; though they still feared the bonfire, it now offered a compelling reason to draw closer.
They raised their stones and wooden clubs, their throats emitting threatening growls like wild beasts, their knees bent as they crept step by step toward Yang Zicang, for there were clearly more of these things in his possession.
–Wild Bros, it’s just sweet potatoes, you know?–
Indeed, –claiming others’ belongings as one’s own– is a instinct engraved deep within human DNA, no matter the era.
Yang Zicang picked up his bow and stood, and just before they could hurl the stones in their hands at him, a Moxel materialized on his chest.
[Time acceleration: advance one day ahead]
Several stones sliced through the air, homing in on Yang Zicang’s body.
[At the current pace, I can cover a hundred li (thirty miles) in twenty-four hours.]
–Let’s just get some distance for now.–
Yang Zicang chose a direction at random and activated Chronos.
The moment he took a calm step, heaven and earth seemed to hit the fast-forward button, his body vanishing in a blur beyond that single stride.
Rocks clattered down onto the spot where he had just stood.
A chorus of startled cries erupted from the ape-men, the mob thrown into chaos.
……
A flash of light, then darkness, and a second later, Yang Zicang found himself at the stroke of midnight the following day.
[**I have consumed 1 R base Chronos. **]
This is the extra ability unlocked here: time acceleration.
–Good thing I don’t actually have to become a nomad.–
Much relieved, Yang Zicang then noticed with surprise that he could see faint shapes in the darkness.
This should be the second midnight, just past.
Turning his head, he saw the blazing flame roaring atop the distant mountain, a defiant edict of divinity amidst the vast black night, unmistakably protruding.
–Damn, that couldn’t be the spot where I roasted the sweet potatoes, could it?–
–No way… it is.–
Back at that very place, Yang Zicang sighed helplessly at the familiar terrain.
He had clearly cleared out a safe zone when lighting the fire—to create this chaos, it had to be those humans in ape-like postures.
They had probably started it while digging up the sweet potatoes, scattering the campfire everywhere, sparking a wildfire in the mountains.
In the blaze, many animals were burned to death, but thankfully the fire only raged around this mountaintop.
Suddenly, several grunting cries of wild men echoed from the surrounding trees.
As the calls rose in a cacophony, a wretched fellow, its body burnt bald in patches and reddening, wailed as it charged over and fell to the ground moaning.
Yang Zicang halted his steps, having been about to accelerate time and leave.
More and more wildmen leaped down from the trees or dashed out from the nearby woods, prostrating themselves on the ground.
They kept raising their heads to glance at Yang Zicang, then burying them against the earth, trembling all over in sheer terror.
This was their gesture of submission.
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