The middle-aged man revealed a friendly smile, pointing to the large dirt mound behind the village, "May I ask if that place is the Burning Hillock?"
Owen Bertram shook his head in confusion, "I don't know what the Burning Hillock is, we in the village simply call it The Large Dirt Mound."
The middle-aged man nodded, seemingly deep in thought. Owen Bertram advised as usual, "Uncle, you mustn't go there, no one has ever returned alive."
The middle-aged man gave a quiet sigh, "I know."
It seemed he had finally made a decision, he affectionately ruffled Owen Bertram's hair, pulled out a brocade pouch from his bosom, and shoved it into Owen's hand, "I probably won't be needing this anymore, it's yours now."
The middle-aged man then strode towards the village exit. Owen Bertram yelled after him, "Uncle, once you go in, you won't be able to come out."
The middle-aged man waved a dismissive hand. In two or three steps, he had already left the village, disappearing out of sight.
Owen Bertram sighed. This middle-aged man seemed different from the younger cultivators who had come before. He must have some pressing personal circumstances that had driven him to The Large Dirt Mound.
Owen Bertram put away the brocade pouch. As he neared his house, he encountered a few village elders who had also returned from pearl diving. They were discussing as they walked, "What's been happening recently? So many outsiders keep heading to the Large Dirt Mound to meet their death."
"I also met a few, they claimed to be immortals who descended directly from the heavens. But they were so fierce, if you didn't respond quickly enough, they would whip you."
"Not a single person has ever come out from the Large Dirt Mound. Why do so many still want to enter?"
"We didn't have this many outsiders in a whole year previously."
"This is the Extinct Village after all. Who would want to come here if they could live elsewhere?"
Owen Bertram had also met two groups. It seemed that apart from himself, other pearl divers had also encountered many outsiders.
"Brother-"
His younger sister saw him and joyfully ran over. Her tiny feet pounded on the ground with force as she ran. Thump, thump, thump.
Owen Bertram smiled, opening his arms. Instinctively, he wanted to dodge, but changed his mind: why not test if he had indeed grown stronger.
With this thought, a warm current surged from his lower abdomen, spreading throughout his body.
Ava Bertram ran into him headfirst.
Bonk-
She was bounced away.
Verna fell on her bottom, making a small crater in the ground.
"Wow-" Verna rubbed her eyes and started bawling, "My bottom hurts, I fell into four pieces, mean brother, you should have dodged..."
Owen Bertram had not expected this outcome. He quickly picked up his sister and rubbed her behind, "My fault, my fault..."
Was that warm current really that strong? Ava used to knock him over when she simply charged at him, it was more impressive than the head-butting mountain goats competing for mates.
After a while, he managed to calm his sister down. She hopped around making dinner as Owen Bertram locked the door and started assessing his haul for the day.
The stone plaque held by Owen Bertram was inspected for a while, "Is this... a Stone Bell?"
It had some simple and ancient patterns, but due to its age, it was somewhat vague and hard to recognize.
As Owen Bertram held it, he felt a distinct warmth surge from it. While different from the warm current of the Little Loach, both were highly effective against the village's Cold Poison.
"What does the Dominant Ferocious Fish want with this?" Owen Bertram muttered to himself. The fierce creatures from the river and mountains were said to be born from this Cold Poison, the more intense the poison, the stronger they became.
As he thought, he lightly tapped the Stone Bell with his knuckles.
Ding-
The sound of the Stone Bell was clear and melodious.
"Quite pleasant." Owen Bertram looked around, found a small stone, and rhythmically tapped it against the Stone Bell.
"Ding-a-ling, ding-a-ling..."Below the large dirt mound behind the village, within a space that sometimes overlaps and sometimes separates from the real world, resides a nine-tiered iron tower locked in formation by eight heavenly chains.
The doors and windows of each floor of the iron tower are tightly closed, yet this cannot block the various flames, ice, and golden winds that spurt out from inside from time to time.
At the very bottom of the iron tower, an immense well is suppressed, filled with a vast number of different monsters, evil demons and oddities. Any one of them, if they were to escape, could set off a terrible catastrophe in the Eight Desolates, turning rivers into oceans of blood!
Each floor of the nine-tiered tower imposes a terrifying punishment that periodically descends.
However, the beings sealed in this deep well are incredibly formidable. The other punishments are akin to tickling them. Every time a punishment befalls, they, who have already grown accustomed to it, would disrespect the iron tower above and mock it brazenly.
Only the divine thunder of the ninth floor would make them truly feel "pain worse than death".
Yet, for some unknown reason, the divine thunder of the ninth floor hasn't descended for a long time. This has emboldened the beings in the well greatly.
But today, as Owen Bertram gently struck the stone gong, the ninth floor of the iron tower suddenly lit up brightly.
As if divine thunder was about to descend.
The beings in the well shivered in fright, hushing together, no longer daring to utter filthy words.
But the divine light flickered as if it lacked the strength, and quickly extinguished.
This confirmed the suspicions of the evil beings; the iron tower lacked the strength to unleash the divine thunder.
As a result, the well erupted in chaos, the evil beings jeering and cursing. But as Owen Bertram struck the stone gong with a stone, a "melody" was formed, the divine light on the ninth floor shone brightly, and one divine thunder after another rhythmically boomed down.
The well instantly resounded with cries of pain, the evil beings suffering unbearably, yet unable to die. They could only endure this punishment torture over and over, no longer daring to utter insolence.
...
After playing with it for a while, Owen Bertram found it quite amusing. He thought of this as a pastime. He thought a bit and then burrowed into the sleeping hole of his sister, burying half of the stone plaque underneath.
He covered it with a thin layer of soil, so that he and his sister wouldn't feel cold when they sleep, even if the furnace lost its heat.
Owen Bertram still remembered how unbearable each winter was; the ashes in the furnace seemed to be swept of all heat by a gust of chilly wind.
Although he still didn't understand why the formidable Dominant Ferocious Fish was so nervous about this "thing", it indeed was a good object.
Then, Owen Bertram took out the brocade pouch that the middle-aged man had given him.
On one corner of the pouch's back was embroidered a tiny character, "妍". Owen Bertram fell silent for a while.
The middle-aged man was clearly different from those young cultivators — they were shallow main characters in horror plasma movies, while he clearly had no other choice.
This brocade pouch must have been given to him by a woman, but sadly, that woman would never see the middle-aged man again in her life.
Owen Bertram opened the brocade pouch and unexpectedly found that the space inside was much bigger than he had imagined — even larger than his current broken residence.
Inside were three bottles of pills, a token, a set of armor, and a sabre.
Owen Bertram first picked up the token. Made of fine jade, the front was engraved with a lion roaring vociferously, while the back was engraved with two powerful large characters: "Eastwood".
"Uncle Eastwood." Owen Bertram murmured.
These pills must be consumed by those immortals when they cultivate. The armor and the sabre were obviously magical instruments, far superior to those of the young cultivators.
He didn't want to feed these to Little Loach, so he quietly put them away, then hid the brocade pouch: "If I have the opportunity in the future, I will return the pouch to the woman who originally gave it to Uncle Eastwood."
Will there be an opportunity?
Owen Bertram lay on the ground, looking at the Vault of Heaven through the cracks on the roof. The small village, the vast world beyond.
Having lived two lives, it seemed that he had gained some power now. How can he be content to stay in this tiny Extinct Village forever?
For a moment, ambition surged in the young man's heart.
But what level is my power now? Owen Bertram wasn't sure and urgently needed to find a "benchmark".
"Brother, it's time to eat!" Avery's cheerful voice interrupted Owen Bertram's thoughts. He got up: "Coming."