The forest was silent. Sunlight filtering through the trunks and drooping branches seemed exceptionally solemn and sacred. Velvety green moss covered every rise, every stone, and every piece of rotten wood. Leaves glittered in the sunlight beyond, while the shadowed sides of the trunks were pitch-black. A few needles at the tips of the lush green foliage had already withered yellow. Beneath them stood someone, utterly focused, holding the lens over his right eye as he clicked the brass outer ring around and around.
He was a boy of sixteen or seventeen, ordinary-looking but somewhat delicate in appearance. His short hair was neatly trimmed, and he was of average height—not especially tall, but not short either. He was rather slender, wearing a dark blue hooded robe with its buttons undone. Beneath it was a gray vest with copper buttons, its collar revealing the collar of a white shirt, which bore two shining silver stars along its edges.
The hem of his robe fell just below his knees, exposing part of his dark gray trousers, whose edges had worn through to the threads. Below that were a pair of weathered leather shoes, their toes covered in all manner of scratches.
A cylindrical tin box was strapped to the boy's lower back. Its silver-white surface gleamed brightly, and four recessed slots ran across its top from left to right. The slots were golden brass, covered in grooves, resembling sockets for something. The sides of the box bulged slightly, while a green beryl rod was set horizontally through its center, faint light swirling within it. Four clasps lined its edges, securing it to his body with leather straps.
There was another copper valve beneath the box, connected to a leather tube. The tube ran to the thick leather glove on the boy's right hand, where a complex instrument was mounted. Several silver rails on rings of brass dials swayed slightly left and right, up and down, occasionally producing clicking sounds.
The boy squinted his left eye and looked through the lens with the other. There were smudges and spots on the lens, but in the distance he could still make out the ancient Elven Ruins by the Gorgon Riverbank. The white semicircular dome of that temple building rose above the canopy, covered in parasitic plants resembling wisteria.
He clicked the lens around once.
This vast forest was called Vanna Forest, located north of the Sea of Ancient Trees. Above the Sea of Trees floated a solitary mountain quietly suspended over a sea of clouds. The snow line along its ridge shone brilliantly in the sunlight, like a proud silver dragon.
At the southern foot of the mountain range, the land gradually sloped downward and sank into a basin. Towering ancient trees grew throughout it, and the scenery was beautiful.
It was simply breathtaking.
He watched it in delighted fascination for a while, until the image began to shake, then spun out of control as it descended. A glittering little object then fell from the treetops and crashed into a nearby thicket with a rustle.
The elven female ranger named Scarpe dashed over in a single stride. She felt around beneath a piece of chalky rock for a moment, then retrieved a hemispherical little object with a brass casing from the low shrubs. Turning back, she waved it at the others. "Found it! It's here!"
It was a Clockwork Sprite, its copper shell reflecting the sunlight and glittering in Scarpe's hand.
Scarpe's scouting skills were extremely high. Combined with the racial talents of an elf, the Clockwork Sprite stood out in the bushes in her vision as clearly as an infrared heat source.
Fang Heng could not do that.
Because he was an alchemist, and to him, those low shrubs looked no different from anywhere else in this vast, primordial forest.
"Ed!" That was Fang Heng's ID in this world. Scarpe called out to him and tossed the sphere over. "Thanks, Miss Scarpe!" Fang Heng caught it and lifted his lens, opening his left eye at the same time. Like most Chinese people, his pupils were dark brown, but the irises within spread outward in threads like flames, making them exceptionally beautiful.
There was no miraculous magic in this world, but ancient sorcerers had invented alchemy and the formulas of equivalent exchange. By using those formulas to drive magic, people could wield powerful tools. These tools were divided into two types: Magic Devices that ordinary people could use, and Battle Gear that could only be used by those with the appropriate Magic Adaptability.
But regardless of the type, only professional craftsmen could maintain and recharge them. Those professional craftsmen were alchemists.
"No need to thank me." Scarpe narrowed her clever eyes and smiled. "Consider the reward deducted from your wages."
"As long as food and lodging are included!" Fang Heng replied with an unconcerned grin.
"I'm kidding. I didn't expect you to know how to use a Clockwork Sprite. You really gave me a scare! Ed, why not join our adventure team?" Scarpe looked at the young man, half-serious.
"That won't do. I worked so hard just to get to Aethelria—I have my own goals! Someday, I'm going to see the sacred mountain, see the Nurinnari Giant Tree Hills, and maybe even visit Luotao, the homeland of the People of the Wilds—then cross the Continental Bridge to the Second World of legend, follow in the footsteps of the pioneers. Maybe one day, I'll even form my own adventure team."
"Ha! You big-mouthed brat. You don't even have Magic Adaptability, yet you're talking so big. The smart choice is to stay in Taren and avoid getting yourself killed." Scarpe knocked him on the head irritably.
Fang Heng covered his head and chuckled, not taking it to heart.
He had smuggled himself into this world.
By the middle of the twenty-first century, humanity had accidentally discovered a special substance in the hast042 region of the asteroid belt—Luminous Matter. By deconstructing Type II Element, the residual information of a higher-dimensional universe within Luminous Matter, humanity finally used the Constant Luminous Structure in 2071 to construct a Ring Star Gate between Earth and the Moon leading to a "higher-dimensional world."
And that world was Aethelria.
But people soon discovered that Aethelria was not the higher-dimensional world they had imagined—it was more like a remnant of information. No real matter existed here, yet vast quantities of Type II Element and higher-dimensional information were active within it, forming a world that seemed real. In order to develop and seize Type II Element, the pioneers sent through the Star Gate by governments around the world—the First Generation Chosen—fought fiercely across Aethelria. Over time, this struggle gradually became a household name, a display and contest of national strength between countries. The Chosen, meanwhile, seemed to become synonymous with glory and prestige overnight.
That was how Super Competition came about—
As someone born on Earth after the Star Gate Era, Fang Heng had grown up listening to those stories, dreaming that one day he too could become one of those heroes. But becoming Chosen was no easy matter. Training and obtaining the qualifications alone required a great deal of money. His parents had died young, and expecting his aunt's family to invest such a huge sum in him was clearly unrealistic.
Fortunately, heaven did not block every path. Through a friend, he met a supposedly reliable smuggler online. The other party was a Starport employee, and after Fang Heng spent nearly all his savings, the employee did not suddenly disappear. Instead, he kept his promise and truly obtained an Internal Ship Ticket, sneaking Fang Heng into the Star Gate.
The process went smoothly, with only one tiny flaw.
Because he had entered as a stowaway, Fang Heng had no Luminous Matter equipment. That meant he had no Magic Adaptability and could only be an ordinary person in this world. Furthermore, since he had never registered at the Starport, he had received no beginner guidance. He spent six months alone in Kapuka before learning a little of the alchemist's trade and figuring out how to operate several Artificer Tools.
Fortunately, he was a natural optimist. Not only was he not discouraged in the slightest, he actually enjoyed it. And so, in his reckless way, he embarked on his first adventure.
He first traveled alone to Rodell, where he stayed for quite some time, hoping to find a team willing to take him in. But no one thought much of a newcomer without Magic Adaptability, until he encountered Scarpe's team.
The small team founded by Scarpe and her boyfriend was the kind of private adventure group commonly found in this world. They were responsible for their own profits and losses, and after paying member wages and daily expenses, the team's funds were often far from abundant—in simple terms, they were strapped for cash.
In fact, Scarpe had been looking for an affordable accompanying alchemist at the time. Whenever she thought of how they had met, she could not help but laugh. This innocent big boy had not understood the difference between an ordinary member and an accompanying alchemist at all. An adventure group naturally would not take in a member without Magic Adaptability, but he had never made it clear that he was skilled in the alchemist's craft.
Luckily, Scarpe had always been shrewd and questioned him carefully. She then took Fang Heng on at an unbelievable price—food and lodging included. That price might even have been illegal, because the Aethelria Craftsmen's Guild had set minimum wage standards for alchemists participating in adventures in order to protect their interests.
There were probably not many people in this world who dared offend the towering giant that was the Craftsmen's Guild.
Of course, as everyone knew, high returns always tempted capitalists into taking risks.
Then Scarpe discovered that she had found a treasure.
Although this big boy claimed it had taken him six months to master the basic skills of an alchemist and pass the examination to become an Apprentice Level 2 Alchemist, neither Scarpe nor her boyfriend Quilod had ever heard of anyone taking six months just to leave the beginner stage. Normally, it took no more than a month. It sounded like talent so terrible it could not possibly get worse, yet they unexpectedly discovered that Fang Heng's craftsmanship was extremely refined—and that he could even operate Clockwork Sprites.
That was usually the craft of a Combat Artificer—
Scarpe felt as though she had picked up a gold brick. Unfortunately, this gold brick's brain seemed to be solid 24K gold as well. He clearly did not even have adaptive magic, yet he kept shouting about going to the Second World and stubbornly refused to join her team.
What a lunatic!
Since they could already see the Gorgon Temple Ruins from this direction, it meant the team had entered the designated target area. Because Scarpe's team was only responsible for support and still had to wait for two other teams to arrive, the adventure group stopped where they were.
Scarpe's boyfriend—a tall man named Quilod—sat on a rotten log, issuing orders and directing everyone to set up camp. His cheeks were lean, a light layer of stubble covered his jaw, and his features were deep and handsome, giving him a distinctly masculine air. His Battle Gear was a greatsword that looked as though two pieces of metal had been fused together. Its blade was two fingers thick and over a meter long, its surface covered in scratches, with a piece of red calcite set into the guard.
The Magic Furnace at his lower back was even larger than Fang Heng's. Though it only had three sockets, each one was fitted with strange metal attachments—some were pure copper components, while others were crystal rods embedded in metal.
Then there were the small metal flasks. Fang Heng could count at least seven or eight flat flasks strapped around Quilod's waist, arms, and legs, all filled with water mixed with alcohol—while a few contained nothing but vodka. Every time he gestured a few times, he would pull out a flask and take a drink, then sheepishly put it away under Scarpe's furious glare.
Fang Heng strongly suspected this uncle had belonged to a warrior nation before coming to Aethelria.
Of course, the man looked imposing, but this little team was not actually bound together by discipline. Rather, it was held together by the warmth between people. Small teams were like that. They had all kinds of flaws, but everyone knew one another well, and there was at least no lack of little moments of warmth.
While Fang Heng secretly observed the team leader, Quilod also narrowed his eyes at him, then nodded.
His opinion of Fang Heng differed somewhat from his girlfriend's. Talent was important, but lacking talent did not necessarily mean someone was hopeless. Before becoming Chosen, he had worked for Russia's logistics support department as an aircraft engineer. That profession required meticulousness, patience, and responsibility; none could be lacking. In earlier years, he had seen many people like that, but now there were fewer and fewer newcomers with a sense of responsibility and patience. The young people being sent over were practically like future celebrities, each one unbearably frivolous.
Yet in Fang Heng, he saw those long-lost qualities once again.
As they set up camp, people began chatting among themselves. Someone casually remarked, "Come to think of it, don't you think this mission is a little different from the previous ones?"
"It is somewhat different. Our main tasks before were mapping the area—exploration and scouting—and participating in defense. We were rarely asked to coordinate operations with the main force like this."
"This seems to be a recovery mission. What are we recovering?"
"Most likely a Campaign-Grade Magic Device."
Fang Heng himself could clearly sense that this mission differed from the previous ones. The Descendants of Flor had even specifically sent down a liaison officer, something that had never happened during the past two months. Thinking of this, Fang Heng could not help looking around again.
Unfortunately, a tent had just been erected nearby, blocking his view.
The forest was silent.
Although Scarpe and Quilod's team had an elegant name, Dawnstar, they had not come here to cultivate their minds or appreciate the arts. They had come for war.
The war had already lasted nearly an entire summer in Taren. The large and small private adventure groups here held an identity much like defense contractors in the real world—that was the elegant term. In truth, they were one of the oldest professions in the world: mercenaries.
However, south of the Dragon Roar Mountains lay a Sea of Trees, with mountain after mountain stretching endlessly onward. The nearest town, Kapuka, was a thousand miles away. So even if the Descendants of Flor and the Rainbow Alliance beat each other's brains out here, the two nearby native powers—the Knight Nations of Guta and the Caolin-Ishurian Alliance—would not ask a single question.
As for why the warring sides had chosen to fight in this godforsaken place, only heaven knew. The mercenaries did not care, and Fang Heng knew little about either side. He only knew that one was a Chosen alliance from the Nations of the Sea of Ancient Trees, while the other had ties to Southern Ishuria.
As for the names Fang Heng recognized, they were not in the First World. Almost all of Aethelria's strongest Chosen and Chosen Guilds were in the world beyond the First Continent Bridge.
"By the way, Miss Scarpe, do you know why the Descendants of Flor and the Rainbow Alliance went to war?" Fang Heng turned and asked. He had suddenly realized that his understanding of the First World was far too shallow. In addition to Mount Eldron and the Nurinnari Giant Tree Hills, it was a fascinating world in its own right.
"Let me teach you a lesson, rookie. See those ruins? They're all good stuff!" Scarpe pointed into the distance and answered in a worldly tone, "An undeveloped ruin could contain anything—gold coins, treasure, and of course, the most valuable of all, Ancient Heritage."
Fang Heng was startled. "Then why didn't we loot some ourselves while we were stationed here?"
"Who said we didn't?"
"Cough, cough—" Quilod coughed loudly.
Only then did Scarpe realize she had misspoken. Without changing her expression, she corrected herself. "Who said we didn't? Because we can't. We're defense contractors. We have professional ethics. How could we steal from the people we're supposed to guard?"
"I believe you." Fang Heng nodded with a sincere expression.
Volumes eleven and fourteen of the prologue, as well as chapters 246 and 274 of the second volume, have been blocked. The blocked chapters will remain unavailable until they are released.
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