Chapter 6 - Packing up

At this point in time, Abel was meticulously packing his clothes. He couldn't help but marvel at the ridiculous outfits that lived in his closet. Each one of them emitted a mysterious vibe.

This time, as Abel silently packed his clothes, his line of vision accidentally wandered to the top of his closet. There, he saw something barely showing itself. If not for the object's sharp edge, Abel would never have noticed it.

He tried to tiptoe, doing his best to reach the object, but it was all in vain. With a sigh, Abel began dragging the chair that sat in the corner of his room.

As Abel was about to lift the chair, he was surprised. No matter how much strength he exerted, the chair wouldn't move an inch.

"What the hell is wrong with this chair!" Abel lamented.

Even an ordinary chair completely made of wood, he couldn't lift it? How weak was this body? Even someone who had been cooped up in his room could easily lift a wooden chair.

"Wait... what if this is some other cultivator thing?" Abel couldn't help but think.

He then tried to focus his mind, recalling his memory again. There, the memory surfaced.

"Ah, so it turns out like that..." Abel nodded in dismay.

It appeared that this chair was made from spiritual wood. This type of wood was rare in the world, as it had special properties. The seemingly light wood would weigh a ton if qi hadn't been continuously inserted into it. As the qi was continually inserted, the spiritual wood would gradually lose its weight. Another thing about this wood was that even if you successfully inserted qi and lifted it, the spiritual wood's original weight would remain.

That's why this kind of wood was so valuable.

Having thought of that, Abel couldn't help but think of another solution. But what if... what if he could infuse some Qi since Abel was a martial cultivator in the first place? Although he was just a third-rate martial artist, he could still infuse some qi.

Abel soon calmed himself. His breaths slowed, and he peered right into his body, trying his best to feel the flow of the qi.

Within a few seconds, he felt some grains of sand flowing freely in his body.

With a thought, Abel tried to command his qi. The qi that had been floating freely in his body abruptly stopped. It soon concentrated and flowed to his right arm.

'I can feel it!'

As the qi coursed through the chair, slowly, Abel felt that he could lift it. Inch by inch, the chair rose, until Abel sweated profusely as he tried his best to move the chair, but it only moved a little.

Abel felt his strength slowly leaving his body, so he had no choice but to give up.

Looking at the precarious situation, Abel clicked his tongue and commented, "Is fate really against me?"

Once again, Abel looked for solutions to the problem. There, beside his bed, he saw a sword. The sword was covered in a black scabbard, black as night. The scabbard emitted a cold, mysterious glow.

'Abel's personal sword, the Lunar Sword...'

The Lunar Sword was said to be one of the masterpieces crafted by a master craftsman renowned throughout the world. It was said that the Lunar Sword was as deadly as it was mysterious. The Lunar Sword could cut even the strongest of metals yet, at the same time, it emitted a deadly cold aura, which made the opponent freeze. When unsheathed during the lunar moon, the sword would absorb the energy of the moon, in turn, making the sword more powerful and deadly. Naturally, the one who wielded it would be engulfed with lunar qi, which weakened their presence. A perfect weapon for an assassin.

'Such a wonderful sword yet it was just carelessly discarded in the room' even he, the one who inherited Abel's body, realized the value of such a sword.

Abel couldn't help but shake his head.

Abel picked up the sword as he slightly bent his body. Picking up the sword, Abel immediately felt his hand grow cold.

Abel was curious, so he slightly unsheathed the scabbard. As he unsheathed the Lunar Sword, it was silent and barely revealed itself, emitting a silvery glint, emphasizing how sharp the sword truly was.

After admiring it for a while, he soon walked back to the closet and used the sword as an extension to get the mysterious object located at the top of his closet. With a bit of struggle, the object finally fell to the floor with a sound of paper fluttering.

**Abel immediately picked it up.

It was a dilapidated book covered in dust. The book was thick, its worn cover marking a long history. Its ancientness was undeniable.

 Abel glanced at the cover, devoid of any title or inscription.

"Must be a diary, huh...?" he thought. However, the memory he possessed of Abel held no recollection of ever writing one. Curiosity piqued, he began to carefully flip through the book.

Disappointment washed over him as he realized the book was written in an unknown language. Each page turn revealed only random scribbles of an indecipherable script. Despite the thickness of the book, it didn't take long for him to reach the end, finding no interesting drawings or hidden messages.

Nevertheless, Abel cleaned the dust off the book and tucked it into his backpack. As he continued packing, the room steadily emptied. Only miscellaneous items with no apparent use remained.

Notably missing were some expensive-looking trinkets.

Gazing around the room, Abel felt no sentimentality. As far as he knew, this room had been his entire world for his entire life. Yet, the entity inhabiting Abel's body lacked any emotional attachment. He felt only a heavy burden looking at the remaining magical and expensive objects too large to transport.

With a grimace, Abel sighed in frustration. He stood silently in the room, waiting for his escort. A sound broke the stillness – footsteps, gradually growing louder before stopping at the door. A knock echoed, followed by a voice.