Elara Stonefield slowly walked out of Quietstream Valley, habitually heading along the familiar path through the mountain forest towards Crimsonfall Spire, which was faintly discernible in the thin mist.
She didn't have anything particularly important to do right now. The main reason she had been diligently heading towards Tyg's place on time every day these past few days was simply to watch Tyg's contorted, pained expressions as he cultivated the "Might of the Stonehide" under the waterfall. It was a way to pass her own somewhat tedious cultivation life, and also a silent encouragement to her friend.
Cultivating this "Might of the Stonehide" was truly not something an ordinary person could easily endure. Just cultivating the mere first layer required enduring such immense pain and torment; if one cultivated to the higher layers later on, it would be a wonder if it didn't flay several layers of skin off a person.
"That fellow Tyg probably regrets his initial choice by now, right? The domineering nature and cruelty of this 'Might of the Stonehide' technique likely far exceeds the initial imagination of these half-grown children." Elara mused to herself as she walked along, casually kicking at the dry fallen leaves and small twigs scattered on the path with her foot.
"After a few more days, if he really can't hold on, perhaps I can go with him to plead with Physician Morus, see if he can switch to some other, relatively milder technique. It would save him from this living torment." Elara pondered. She felt a small thrill of excitement and pride at being able to think of a possible escape route from this current suffering for her friend.
Elara looked up at the bare trees lining both sides of the path. The season had already advanced into late autumn, approaching early winter. All the trees were bare-branched, without a hint of green. The forest path was already covered with a thick layer of withered yellow leaves and dry, broken twigs. Stepping on them felt soft and produced a light "rustle," which had a certain desolate charm.
Just then, from a nearby mountain peak, the faint, crisp sounds of weapons clashing could be heard. Interspersed with this were occasional loud and powerful cheers and shouts carried from a distance.
Hearing these vibrant sounds, Elara subconsciously looked up again in the direction of the mountain peak from which the sounds came. Her mood, which had just slightly improved from devising a plan for her friend, inexplicably became somewhat downcast and complicated again.
She knew that it was the instructors and senior apprentices from the "Hall of Hundred Forges" conducting rigorous training in armed combat and practical skills for the newly enrolled inner apprentices who were her peers.
Whenever Elara saw the other fellow apprentices gathered together with great enthusiasm, engaging in fierce sparring with real weapons and practical drills, she always felt a little out of sorts. She herself also longed to pick up those gleaming real sabers and spears, to wield them vigorously and fiercely, to experience that feeling of wielding power. Unfortunately, for some unknown reason, ever since she had formally become Physician Morus's disciple, he had strictly forbidden her from any training or items related to offensive martial arts or magic. He also disallowed her from learning any other combat skills or offensive spells from the other instructors in the Outpost. The reason the physician gave was that those things would severely hinder her progress in cultivating the nameless incantation and disturb the purity of the energy within her body.
Therefore, Elara could only watch with envy from the sidelines. Occasionally, in private, she could secretly borrow a few blunted practice weapons from a few fellow apprentices with whom she was on relatively good terms, and swing them around a few times in a deserted corner, barely satisfying her craving.
Really, what was so good about this nameless incantation she was cultivating so painstakingly? Up to now, she hadn't been able to see any particular use for it at all. The other apprentices who had entered with her were all becoming more and more skilled, their strength progressing by leaps and bounds daily. Only she seemed to be treading water, showing no substantive change or improvement at all.
Even Tyg, who had only cultivated the "Might of the Stonehide" for a short two months, had now become tough-skinned and much more resistant to beatings than before, and his strength was also considerably greater than before he started cultivating.
However, Elara also understood in her heart that if it hadn't been for the coincidental turn of events that led to Physician Morus unexpectedly taking her as a disciple, she probably wouldn't have been able to pass the incredibly cruel formal assessment for probationary apprentices held over two months ago, let alone stay securely on this mountain of Stonefist Outpost and even have the chance to arrange for someone to send her meager monthly allowance home to supplement her family's income.
Alas, if she couldn't learn other offensive techniques, then so be it! At least, she was still here.
Elara grumbled inwardly while trying her best to console herself, attempting to accept this helpless reality.
Elara slowly withdrew her gaze from the distance, her mind still muttering incessantly, and her mental state consequently became even more listless and dispirited. Her vacant gaze swept aimlessly along both sides of the path, not even knowing what she was randomly looking at.
Suddenly, Elara gasped sharply, her expression turning exceptionally strange. Immediately after, she almost uncontrollably contorted her face, letting out a short cry of pain, her mouth stretched so wide it almost reached behind her ears. Almost as a reflex, she abruptly squatted down, pressing her hands tightly against the big toe of her right foot. Then, due to the intense pain, she lost her balance and half-fell, half-stumbled into the grass beside the path. This sudden, unbearable, sharp pain completely overwhelmed the unprepared Elara. Her face turned somewhat pale from the pain, and a piercing, searing agony, like needles and fire, shot relentlessly and clearly from her injured right big toe.
It seemed she had been too absent-minded just now and had accidentally kicked a very hard, sharp stone hidden in the pile of leaves.
Elara painfully hunched over, clutching her ankle tightly with both hands. On one hand, she subconsciously, through her worn-out coarse cloth soft shoes, blew hard on her throbbing toe, hoping to alleviate some of the pain; on the other hand, she secretly worried whether her injury was severe this time, whether her poor toe would immediately swell up and bruise, thereby severely affecting her daily walking and her already slow cultivation progress.
After a long while, Elara finally managed to somewhat recover from this sudden bout of intense pain. She laboriously lifted her neck slowly, her gaze beginning to carefully scan the thick pile of fallen leaves near her feet, trying to find the "culprit" that had just caused her such suffering—that damned stone.
However, the ground around was scattered with withered branches and fallen leaves, all of a single, monotonous, dull color—lifeless, withered yellow. Elara simply couldn't accurately find the target she was looking for among the messy, layered piles of leaves.
Elara frowned in frustration. She reached out and fumbled around on the ground beside her a few times, finally grabbing a relatively thick, long, and sturdy branch, barely using it as a crutch. Then, she stood up on the heel of her injured foot, carefully and slowly rising from the ground. Once steady, still unwilling to give up, she used the makeshift branch in her hand to vigorously poke and rummage through the thick piles of leaves around her, which were like small mounds.
Huh! A dark, fist-sized object was unexpectedly dislodged from the pile of fallen leaves by the branch in her hand.
Elara curiously examined this "arch-culprit" that had just caused her "glorious injury." It was an oddly shaped, round-bodied, bottle-like object with a slender neck. The surface of the bottle was covered with a thick layer of moist soil, already turned an ugly earthy gray, making it impossible to discern any of its original color or material.
At first, Elara thought it was just an ordinary small porcelain bottle that someone had casually discarded. However, when she bent down to pick it up from the ground and held it in her hand, she immediately noticed that its weight was off—it felt heavy in her hand, exceptionally so, definitely not comparable to ordinary ceramic or earthenware.
Could it be cast from some special metal? Elara thought to herself. No wonder this thing, though not large, could hit her foot with such unbearable pain. However, making bottles out of metal was indeed rarely seen.
Elara was now completely intrigued by this unexpectedly discovered small phial, even temporarily forgetting the burning pain in her foot.
She extended her fingers and vigorously rubbed off the dry, hard soil from the neck of the phial. As the soil flaked off, the original color of the phial gradually revealed itself. It was a very pure and pleasing, emerald-like greenish hue, which looked exceptionally beautiful and mysterious under the mottled sunlight filtering through the gaps in the leaves overhead. The surface of the phial was also meticulously carved with some very exquisite, dark green, peculiar patterns resembling the leaves of some strange plant. At the top of the phial, there was a small, delicate cap of the same material as the phial itself, tightly and perfectly fitted, sealing the mouth.
Could there be something inside this phial? A thought stirred in Elara's mind. She brought the small phial to her ear and shook it gently. However, she couldn't feel anything moving inside, as if it were a solid, heavy object.
She then placed her hand on the small cap and tentatively tried to twist it with force, but found that the cap didn't budge at all, as if it were completely fused with the body of the phial.
Elara's curiosity grew even stronger. She was just about to try using more force, or perhaps some other tool, for her next attempt to open it. But just then, a piercing, bone-deep, sharp pain suddenly shot through her injured right foot again.
D*mn it! How could she have forgotten about that! Her foot was still suffering the ill consequences of its "intimate contact" with this mysterious phial!
With such an injury, it looked like she wouldn't be able to go to Tyg's place today to watch the "excitement" of his cultivation. She should hurry back to her dwelling, apply some of Physician Morus's medicinal salve, and then carefully examine this unexpectedly obtained, rather extraordinary-looking small phial.
Thinking this, Elara, to prevent others from accidentally seeing this peculiar phial in her hand, couldn't be bothered with how dirty the mud-caked surface of the object was. She carefully tucked the heavy little phial into her tunic and then turned around, limping and enduring the pain, slowly heading back the way she had come.