Immortal Shan spread his arms:
"Growing up near the cursed stones may indeed grant the child increased immunity to the darkness," he proclaimed, his voice echoing with conviction. "It could prove to be a significant advantage in the trials to come."
"None of the residents near the veils will say about the favorability of such a situation. You forgot that it was these stones that became the source of the extinction of gifted children!" The martial artist protested. The yellow robes did not hide the speaker's muscular body, and the round beads made of sandalwood made a tinkling sound.
"It's true," chimed in the oldest elder, his nod of agreement adding weight to the martial artist's words. "Indeed, while these stones have undoubtedly saved lives by siphoning the negative energy seeping through the veils, they remain omens of ill fate. Without the resilience they have provided, our presence here today would be uncertain at best."
Meanwhile, the Head remained steadfast, summoning his inner strength to shield the child from the escalating negative energy emanating from the stones. Beads of sweat glistened on his brow as he spoke:
"We can't push our luck so unreasonably. The hero must get stronger before embarking on the path prepared for him."
The arriving commoners looked at each other in mute question.
"Still, the Red Valley has always stood for justice. So many of our people have fallen in recent years, I ask you to fulfill the words of our headman!" a young woman said, her black hair was cut short and there was a fresh wound on her face.
"How dare you talk about victims?!" The dark-skinned immortal stepped forward, his voice booming with righteous anger. "We have all lost loved ones, and continue to do so. Protecting the Home of myriad creatures is our sacred duty, and now you come here, boasting of your sacrifice. All to destroy our only hope? How dare you?!"
A palpable pressure descended upon the commoners, forcing their legs to buckle beneath them.
The immortal's gray eyes gleamed ominously in the flickering candlelight, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he clutched at his robes, steam rising from his trembling form.
Each person present bore unhealed wounds in their hearts, scars of enduring hardships that had long since hardened their resolve.
---
In the House of Myriad Creatures, there are few rules, but they are adhered to with unwavering vigilance: do not prey on the weak, do not shield the guilty, eradicate the infected.
The weak form the backbone of the House of Myriad Creatures, a working class residing on the fringes, closest to the barriers. Due to the limited expanse of fertile land, incapable of sustaining all, population control is a necessity sharply enforced. Yet, those deemed weak are not defined solely by their lowly status or lack of prestigious lineage; rather, they are individuals unable to withstand the potency of mana. Even the most physically robust individual is vulnerable to the potency of the Oblivion Lake, nestled at the heart of their realm.
Surrounding this bottomless reservoir, the five great families erected their palaces, dubbing the source of mana the Oblivion Lake. Yet, the very energy that grants boundless power to some is a lethal poison to others.
Merely inhaling a trace of mana can spell instant demise for those lacking immunity. Studies have revealed the presence of impurities akin to poison within the mana's earthly and celestial energies, bestowing either endless power or ruthless death. Thus, the weak, deprived of immunity, stay away from Lake Oblivion, instead gravitating towards the borders of the barriers. It was rumored that the seeping darkness strengthens the bodies of the weak, allowing them to absorb mana without succumbing to agony or death. However, for most, this turned out to be a fleeting advantage, as the absorbed energy quickly dissipated, like water flowing out of a broken vessel, but if the weak were able to absorb mana, then this led to even more tragic results.
The energy of darkness bore a detrimental effect on the bodies of the gifted, while conversely, the weak could not withstand the potency of mana. This knowledge is ingrained in every child now, but it wasn't always so.
The second rule is deeply intertwined with those capable of absorbing mana and deriving strength from it. Initially, people weren't categorized as weak or gifted, those who could attain unparalleled strength by absorbing mana. However, following the construction of the barriers to ward off the forces of darkness, amid a series of tragic deaths and the near-extinction of the future weak, the brilliance of the gifted began to shine brighter with each passing day, akin to a blazing sun. Defenseless individuals, gripped by fear of the unknown and impending death, began hunting the gifted, resorting to consuming raw flesh in hopes of bolstering their chances of survival. Indeed, even after the truth became apparent—that consuming the flesh of the gifted did not bestow immunity to mana—the madness of the common folk persisted unabated. It was a grim revelation, one that dashed any hope of salvation through such desperate measures. Yet, driven by fear and desperation, they continued their rampage, heedless of the futility of their actions.
The madness that gripped them was like a festering wound, spreading like wildfire and consuming all reason in its path. No amount of logic or persuasion could sway them from their destructive course. They were driven by primal instincts, by the insatiable hunger for survival that gnawed at their very souls.
For the Great Families, it was a harrowing ordeal to witness the descent of their fellow men into madness. They watched helplessly as their world crumbled around them, as the fabric of society was torn asunder by fear and desperation.
Left with no choice but to seek refuge, they drew closer and closer to the protective layers surrounding the bubbling mana flowing ceaselessly from the Oblivion Lake. The ground, strewn with corpses, reeked of decay, and some survivors had descended into madness. This ordeal served as yet another trial, hardening the hearts of the gifted against the relentless onslaught of adversity.