The Bloodline of Fire

The goddess of night, Shar, had replaced Selune, casting her shroud over the entire land as a biting, frigid wind howled through the forest. Chen Jinyang wrapped himself in a wool blanket and crawled into his sleeping bag, lost in thought as he gazed at the flickering campfire.

In his previous life, Chen Jinyang had been a martial artist, a master who had reached the pinnacle of internal and external cultivation, the "Transformation" stage. His Autumn Water Goose-Quill Saber was peerless. However, after sustaining internal injuries from a fight in his youth, he had infiltrated the Golden Peak Temple to steal the secrets of the "Wild Ox Force." In the process, he accidentally wounded several disciples of the Wudang Sect. By his thirties, he had been forced to flee abroad, becoming a mercenary who lived by the blade.

Now, in this strange, foreign land, reborn in another's body, he wondered where his path should lead. With his mind in a chaotic tangle, unable to find an answer, Chen Jinyang simply closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.

As he slipped into a hazy slumber, Chen Jinyang had a bizarre dream. He felt himself grow from a dull, witless infant, surrounded by blurred figures of men and women, younger siblings, and a limping old man. This continued until his youth, when he was attacked by a ferocious monster—a creature with the head and wings of an eagle and the body of a lion. He was then consumed by a fireball, turning into a torch. In the dream, Chen Jinyang felt as if he had become a fire spirit dancing in a sea of flames; he felt scorching heat, as if his entire body were burning.

Chen Jinyang bolted upright, gasping for air, only to find that his blanket and sleeping bag had been scorched into a pile of black ash. A strange, fiery energy surged uncontrollably through his veins, coursing through his red, exposed body. Recalling the dream, he realized these were the life experiences of the youth named William. The boy had been mentally disabled, lacking language and memory, with a pitifully shallow understanding of the world. Chen Jinyang could not fathom the source of this internal heat.

He did not know that William had possessed a latent sorcerous bloodline. When struck by the griffin's (perhaps) fire projectile, it had triggered the awakening of his fire bloodline. The clash between the internal heat and the external attack had shattered the boy's soul, leaving the vessel vacant for Chen Jinyang to inhabit. Now that he had fully merged with the body, the fire bloodline had reactivated, dredging up suppressed memories and leaking internal fire that had incinerated his bedding.

As time passed, the heat gradually calmed, receding back into his bloodline. With his body temperature returning to normal, Chen Jinyang donned his animal skins, rose to his feet, and began his training.

The sky began to brighten, and the forest was filled with the calls of strange birds; a new day was about to begin.

Chen Jinyang ran through a set of fist forms in the clearing to loosen his joints, then began to stand in the "Three-Body" stance. This body was being trained for the first time, and there were many obstructions; the joints were stiff, the tendons and bones difficult to stretch, and his form was far from perfect. Relying on the memories of his past life, Chen Jinyang slowly adjusted his posture, feeling every inch of his spine from top to bottom. He dropped his center of gravity to his tailbone, his hair standing on end as his pores closed, forcing the dissipating heat back into his body. Suddenly, the heat hidden in his bloodline surged, rushing to his entire body. Unable to keep his pores closed, Chen Jinyang let out a loud shout and, following the flow of energy, struck out with his palm. A flame, a foot long, flashed forth. Chen Jinyang was shocked, but upon regaining his composure, he felt refreshed and full of vigor, with no signs of discomfort.

Chen Jinyang tried striking and exhaling fire several more times with the same result. The flames left charred marks on the wood, acting like a miniature flamethrower. However, his mental and physical stamina dropped significantly afterward. By the fifth attempt, Chen Jinyang felt as exhausted as if he had been in a brutal brawl, his entire body limp.

After testing it a few times, Chen Jinyang was overjoyed, concluding that this might be the legendary fire ability. This body was truly gifted; as the saying went, "Fist techniques combined with supernatural powers make even the gods suffer." Heaven had indeed been kind to him. With such aptitude, he had no reason to fear that his martial arts would not reach new heights.

"Since Heaven has given me a chance to be reborn, I will surely step onto the peak of the martial path and explore the divine realm of martial arts. From this day forward, I am both Chen Jinyang and William." Having made his decision, Chen Jinyang ate a few pieces of cooked horse meat to fill his stomach, then found a clearing to practice the twelve forms of Xingyi Fist: Dragon, Tiger, Monkey, Horse, Rooster, Harrier, Swallow, Snake, Turtle, Horse-like, Eagle, and Bear. He practiced them repeatedly until it was nearly noon.

Chen Jinyang whittled a wooden spear and speared a dozen fresh fish in the river, roasting them to eat. After filling his belly, he packed the remaining fish into his bag. He bundled his tent, the remaining blankets, his portable pack, and his sleeping bag, strapped them to his back, picked up his wooden bucket, and, holding his spear, followed the path back to the village where William lived.

William was a dull, big-bodied fellow, a simple and lovable Forrest Gump-type fool, born with low intelligence. Although he was only sixteen, he was taller and larger than anyone in the Gnome Village. William possessed strength comparable to a rothé and was naturally unafraid of ordinary fire. Some said that if William weren't a fool, he would surely have become a powerful warrior or sorcerer.

William had a fourteen-year-old brother and an eleven-year-old sister. When he was seven, his parents had entrusted the three of them to a limping old man in the village, and he had never seen his parents again. Three years later, the old man died of illness. Having possessed the strength of an adult since childhood, William became a lumberjack at ten, working alongside the village men to support his family. Although his mind was slow, the kind-hearted little village had given them hope for survival.

Lumberjacking was not a good job; such destruction of trees was despised by druids. Of course, William would sometimes follow the villagers to act as a laborer for passing adventurers.

The forest was fraught with danger, and many had lost their lives there, but William had always survived by luck. He possessed an unusual sense, able to hear disturbances that others could not detect. Often, he would save his companions, not through combat, but through his extraordinary stamina and a pair of fast-running legs.

When the limping old man was alive, he had once trained William as a warrior, but he soon gave up. William had the potential to become strong, but his incomplete mind made him too easy to exploit, and the old man feared he would lose his life because of it.

Since he was now living in William's place, William's responsibilities were now Chen Jinyang's—Chen Jinyang had his own moral bottom line. The three siblings were all they had, and their lives were extremely difficult. If he abandoned them, it would be easy for him to leave, but the children's future would be grim. If he left with such regrets, it might even become a "heart demon" on his martial path.

The Gnome Village was located on the south bank of the River Mirar, near the Long Road beneath Cliff Ridge and the Hidden Forest. As a stopover on the Long Road between Mirabar and Longsaddle, it was less of a village and more of an inn. The thirty-some people in the village focused their work on this principle: providing food and lodging for passing merchants and travelers.

William's brother, fourteen-year-old Alos, worked as a waiter at the only Sailu Tavern in the village.

However, at this moment, Alos's eyes were red and swollen, and he leaned against the tavern door in a daze, his naturally fiery red curls messy and lusterless. Yesterday, two adventurers who had fled back told him that his brother William had been killed by an ogre. Alos simply could not believe it.

By evening, when the villagers who had gone out with William returned alive, they also claimed to have seen with their own eyes that William had run toward the ogre tribe's direction, and surely, he could not have escaped. Alos was completely desperate, and he and his sister had cried all night at home.

It was now noon. The two adventurers from yesterday had snuck away before dawn this morning. The tavern was cold and empty, with only a few idle villagers drinking and chatting.

"Alos! Don't be sad! This world is just like that; people die every day. May Lathander bless poor William."

"Oh! Poor Alos! Come have a drink! Mellow rum can help you forget your troubles!"

"I'm sorry, gentlemen! I have to hurry home to deliver lunch to Mishaer. Goodbye!" Alos, snapping out of his daze, wiped his eyes, ran back to the kitchen to grab some cold vegetables and a few slices of bread, tucked them into his shirt, and ran out of the tavern.

"Alos, you little rascal! I'm deducting the bread from your wages! Deliver it and come back to work immediately! Don't forget to give my regards to little Mishaer!" the tavern owner shouted, chasing after Alos with a fierce expression.

"Thank you, Mr. Sailu! You're a good man!" Alos laughed and ran off without looking back.

"Of course I'm a good man, Sailu the Good," the tavern owner, Sailu, muttered to himself, his face full of loneliness and helplessness.

"Poor little siblings. The brother is a fool, and the sister is bedridden. Now that William is dead, Alos's life will be even harder. I wonder if little Mishaer can survive this winter?" The few people in the tavern sighed incessantly. This world was just that cruel; no one could change it, or at least, they lacked the ability to do so.

As Chen Jinyang hurried along, he considered how to face William's family. Speaking plainly was definitely out of the question; the language barrier made it impossible to explain. If he didn't speak, his appearance would look suspicious. Since both options were problematic, there was only one path left—to play the fool.

"William was a fool to begin with. When they ask me something, I'll just act dumb and stay silent; they won't be able to do anything about it."

"But how should I act the fool? Sticking out my tongue, drooling, rolling my eyes—that's too low-level; anyone could see it's fake. For a grand martial arts master like me to perform such low-class antics would be too shameful if word got out. Silly smiles, blank stares—yes! William usually just had a silly grin, and his speech was stuttered and unclear. I'll just smile blankly, stay silent, and stutter a few 'hng-hng' sounds when I have to speak." Chen Jinyang summarized the images of fools from movies in his past life, practicing "hee-hee" and "ha-ha" for a while to prepare for his future life as a fool.

Just as Chen Jinyang was immersed in the practice of "learning to be a fool," a group of uninvited guests surrounded him from the surrounding forest.

Chen Jinyang's expression tightened. He stopped, stood in place, and looked around. What a prime location! This was absolutely a perfect place for hiding and setting an ambush. The forest was deep and dense, the terrain complex, with massive tree roots protruding from the ground like low walls. If a team were caught here, they would easily be divided and surrounded; but for a lone master, it was an excellent terrain for fighting against many, without fear of being swarmed.

Chen Jinyang chose a position, set down his bucket and large pack, tucked his dagger into his belt, and held his wooden spear in his right hand, waiting intently for the uninvited guests to reveal themselves.

Soon, he saw the blockers: dozens of filthy, wretched humanoid creatures. They (let's call them "they") stood upright, barely four or five feet tall, their arms hanging down to their knees. Their skin was a pale, yellowish-red; their faces were broad with flat noses, pointed ears, large mouths, and receding foreheads, their eyes dull and yellowish. A small portion wore various styles of leather armor and held wooden-handled stone hammers and wooden shields, while most were draped only in small scraps of animal skin or tattered burlap. Their weapons were a motley collection: wooden spears, short wooden clubs, animal bones, and stones—a chaotic mess of everything.

The tallest one among them wore a horn-adorned helmet and yellowish-brown leather armor, holding a rusted, two-foot iron sword. It looked like the leader.

These monsters had one thing in common: they were filthy and stank. In William's memories, he had been harassed by them many times.

Goblins: a group of evil, cunning, yet naturally cowardly humanoid creatures that lived by raiding and stealing. They would sneak into dens, villages, and even cities under the cover of night to take whatever they wanted.

They would also ambush travelers on the roadside or in the forest, stripping them of all their belongings (including your small pants).

Note: Fire Bloodline: Inherited from ancient ancestors such as fire genies, fire dragons, fire spirits, or other powerful entities of the fire domain. Those who possess this bloodline can control the power of fire more easily, becoming powerful and temperamental spellcasters.