The great fire blazed like a torch reaching for the heavens, but it did not spread. In this frozen, snowbound land, it had no way to spread either.
The village patrol merely came over and cast a cold glance before leaving. They were not even interested in asking a single question. This was probably the treatment an experienced orphan received.
According to the village's long-standing tradition, the village would care for every orphan until the age of fifteen—until they could hunt small beasts and gather medicinal herbs, or awaken their witch blood and witch power. In that case, they would naturally receive better treatment.
Zhang Yang's Alt Account was already fourteen. By next summer, he would be exactly fifteen.
As long as he did not starve to death, basically no one would come to control him.
This was a fine external environment, allowing Zhang Yang to calmly sort through his spoils.
The Cursed Object could not be considered burned to death. It was like asking a stone whether it was dead or not. One could only say that the curse's power had been destroyed on some level.
At dawn, the great fire went out. Zhang Yang patiently picked a pitch-black cobblestone out of the ashes. This stone had not been here from the start. It had formed here after the Cursed Object's power was destroyed, and it might even contain the core of the wooden spear that held Ice of Aman.
"A dike a thousand miles long is destroyed by an ant's nest; beneath a single grain of sand lie ten thousand worlds. True skill shows in the tiniest details."
Zhang Yang sighed softly, but his thoughts had already taken seven or eight turns in an instant.
It was not that he possessed extraordinary quick wit. Rather, he had a