Myriad Thoughts

Matthew’s fingers continued to sift through the items, brushing against the cold hardness of metal fragments and the coarse texture of rags. Suddenly, his fingertips touched something with a peculiar smoothness and chill, accompanied by a faint, sharp prickling sensation.

He instinctively pulled it out.

A nearly transparent crystal lay quietly in his palm. Its interior was clear and flawless, like a condensed cold spring. A weak but distinct fluctuation of mana emanated from it, brushing against his perception.

Matthew’s breath hitched slightly.

“A magic stone...”

He whispered the words almost soundlessly, a flash of surprise crossing his eyes.

The last time he had seen a magic stone was in the kobold nest deep within the forest—it was a legacy item that the entire tribe had accumulated over countless years, precious and rare.

And now, such a crystal had appeared among the personal belongings of a bandit leader from the grasslands.

“Nathan... where did he get this?”

A trace of doubt quietly surfaced, followed by a fleeting, momentary pang of regret: ‘If only I had known Nathan had this...’

But that thought lasted only an instant before Matthew suppressed it.

He had no desire to regret things that had already happened.

His gaze fell back to the pure magic stone in his hand; the icy touch contained highly refined energy. He knew all too well how precious magic stones were—whether as an aid for cultivation, for recovering mana, or as a casting medium and hard currency, their value was extraordinary.

And now, such a high-quality magic stone with pure energy had appeared among the belongings of a horse bandit like Nathan.

“Nathan...”

Matthew murmured the name, his gaze darkening.

A bandit leader who was treated as a “white glove” by a family and lived by plunder year-round, yet carried a magic stone of this grade.

This was highly unusual in itself.

He recalled Nathan’s dying words: “Under the old tree in No. 7 Courtyard on Shizhong Road... there is a wooden box buried.”

At the time, Matthew hadn’t fully believed him, recording the address more out of a pragmatic attitude toward potential wealth. But now, this magic stone served as physical evidence, silently confirming the weight of Nathan’s last words.

If he could carry a magic stone around so casually, then the so-called “buried treasure” was likely far more than just gold and silver.

Thinking of this, his mind drifted back to Nathan’s expression during the battle—the shock that bordered on a daze when he saw the shield from the Oath Ring.

“However, he didn't recognize what it was himself.”

“Otherwise, he wouldn't have reacted that way. He didn't understand magic, let alone the value of a magic stone... He just carried it with him as some kind of valuable ‘crystal.’”

This actually brought more joy to Matthew’s heart. Because Nathan didn’t understand, the things he had buried might contain even more “crystals” whose true value he didn't even know.

Initially, Matthew hadn't believed Nathan’s words, even thinking they might be a distraction born of desperation. It wasn't until he shot and killed Cogan under the setting sun—the yellow-haired youth falling from his horse before he could even resist—that things changed.

Cogan was indeed not a Class holder.

Nathan might have been vicious and twisted by resentment, but at least in some matters, he hadn't lied.

“So... his claim about the treasure buried there is most likely true as well.”

Matthew carefully tucked the magic stone into an inner pocket close to his skin. The icy surface of the stone pressed against his chest, yet it felt as if it had ignited a calm and clear light in his heart.

Whether for the potential magic stones and resources or to verify if Nathan’s final words were true—he absolutely had to go to that place, under the old tree in No. 7 Courtyard on Shizhong Road.

The harvest from this trip far outweighed the risks.

With these thoughts, Matthew stowed all his items away, placing the newly acquired magic stone together with the previous two in a secure spot on his person.

He then sat cross-legged and closed his eyes.

In an instant, his breathing slowed, and everything around him seemed to sink away. The crackling of the campfire and the faint whistling of the night wind gradually receded, turning into a blurred background.

His consciousness slowly sank into his body, guiding his Spirit to flow like still water, allowing that weak and pure mana perception to circulate slowly through his frame.

During his meditation, scenes from the day gradually surfaced in his inner vision—Nathan’s tempestuous blade technique after burning his blood, especially those final three strikes that carried nearly destructive force, each heavier than the last.

Matthew knew clearly in his heart: if those three layers of magic shields hadn't blocked them in succession, he would have been in grave danger even in his peak Feathering state if he had tried to take those three desperate strikes head-on.

“Facing a truly powerful expert, relying solely on the path of a Class holder is ultimately too limited...”

“Fortunately, I am a dual cultivator...”

He whispered to himself, while also becoming more determined to repair his staff. He had to find a channel to fix the staff as soon as possible. Only by advancing in both magic and martial arts could he go further on this path.

The night deepened, and the starlight was silent.

Matthew remained sitting motionless, his aura steady and profound. Only the three magic stones at his waist faintly emitted warm and cool fluctuations, subtly echoing his long, slow breaths.

...

The next morning, just as the sky was beginning to brighten, the grasslands still carried the chill of the night. The embers of the campfire had not yet fully died out when the sparse sounds of people stirring began to echo through the camp.

Matthew had rarely meditated for an entire night. He woke up early to organize his belongings, intending to check on the condition of his mount—after yesterday’s chase, he understood the vital importance of a good horse.

At that moment, a slightly heavy set of footsteps approached from behind.

He turned and saw Porter walking over slowly. The seasoned adventurer’s injuries hadn't fully healed, and his face was still somewhat pale, but his eyes had regained their usual clarity.

Porter walked up to Matthew’s side and asked with concern, “After such a fight yesterday, did you get enough rest?”

Matthew nodded and answered truthfully, “Very well.”

Porter gave a grunt of acknowledgment, his gaze shifting toward the horizon as it gradually brightened. He remained silent for a moment before speaking again.

“Yesterday’s battle... you handled it very well.”

“Being able to shake off Nathan in that state definitely wasn't just down to luck.”

There was no tone of praising a junior in his words; it was more like a statement of fact, even carrying a hint of recognition after careful observation.

Matthew heard the subtle difference—it was no longer the encouragement of an “older brother” to a “promising younger brother,” but an evaluation between near equals.

He didn't reply, simply listening quietly.

Porter turned his head to look at him, his eyes holding less of the previous distance and reservation and more sincerity.

“I’ve seen some talented young people before, but someone like you, who can remain so calm in actual combat and make such accurate judgments... there aren't many.”

He paused, his voice lowering slightly.

“Master Regg holds you in high regard. Once we reach the county seat, if you ever need a hand with anything or need to dig up some information, you can come find me.”