The old farmer was not making something out of thin air. He had indeed seen a streak of purple light fall into it, just as the Goblin had said.
The fragments were like fireflies. As they flew past, they carried shrill whooshing sounds, glowing crimson-bright.
These were all villagers, farmers by trade, with no spiritual power. But as the village chief, he had already heard that when light merged with mountains, images would form. One only needed the naked eye to distinguish them and determine whether they were Li Ziran's relics.
To confirm it, he had even spent three copper coins to buy a portrait of Li Ziran. Though he rather loathed that greedy Goblin merchant, he truly could not do without it. The Goblin merchant had said that as long as one found the pattern in the portrait, the minimum reward would be a thousand gold coins. Even without Li Ziran's portrait, any image fused into stone could still fetch dozens of gold coins.
A thousand gold coins! He had lived his whole life without ever seeing that much money.
Even if he had to neglect the farmwork now, he had to find this treasure light.
The entire village was at work, while a neighboring tribe suffered the calamity of extermination. A Fire Elf descended directly upon it and slaughtered an entire Lynx tribe clean.
There was no helping it. A Space Fragment had fused into the tribe's flagpole and could be seen from far away. These ordinary tribes simply did not know how to hide such things.
After activating the fragment on the flagpole, the Elf discovered that it was merely a memory of Li Ziran leaning against a window in a daze. It lasted only half a second. She was deeply disappointed, yet she felt not the