Aldric sat by the riverbank, the sunlight warm on his back, the sound of flowing water steady in his ears. He turned his attention to the wooden chest lying in his hands. The same chest that had changed his life overnight.
Last night, when he had opened it for the first time, it had nearly destroyed him with pain while remaking his body. Now, holding it again, he felt no such thing. The chest seemed calm, almost ordinary.
Curious, Aldric lifted the lid once more.
Inside, the chest looked deeper than it should have. At once he understood—this was no ordinary container. It was a storage artifact, a treasure that could hold far more than its size suggested. For mortals, such things were nearly impossible to even see in their lifetime. For arcanists, they were valuable tools. And here it was, in his hands.
But the chest wasn't full. Its space held only two items.
The first was a small crystalline object, glowing faintly with runes. The moment Aldric's eyes landed on it, recognition stirred in his mind. He had heard of such things before during his time as a slave, listening to conversations between merchants and guards.
It was a Heart Engraving Artifact.
This kind of artifact was not rare among powerful factions but was unimaginably precious to someone like Aldric. Its use was simple but profound: information stored inside the artifact could be engraved directly into the heart of whoever activated it. The engraving wasn't physical—it was imprinted onto the very core of one's being. The knowledge became so deep that even if the person tried to forget it, they couldn't.
Skills, techniques, experiences, even memories—anything could be recorded and passed down this way. For ordinary mortals, it was useless. But for arcanists, it was a treasure beyond measure.
Aldric held the crystal carefully in his hands. He didn't know what knowledge it contained yet, but his heart beat faster just thinking about it.
He set it aside and looked at the second item in the chest.
A bundle of small, semi-transparent stones, each one glowing faintly. They felt warm to the touch, as if they were alive. Aldric's breath caught as recognition came again.
Spirit Stones.
These were treasures coveted across the world. Naturally formed stones that contained mana within them. For mortals, spirit stones were wealth beyond imagining. For arcanists, they were both currency and cultivation resources.
Spirit stones usually formed in three ways.
The first was at Spirit Springs. From deep within the earth, mana would flow up like water, creating springs saturated with energy. As the spring bubbled and spilled out, stones formed naturally over time and were washed onto the banks. These stones were pure and often the most sought after.
The second was from Spirit Trees. Certain rare trees grew by feeding on ambient mana. Over decades, they condensed mana into stones that grew like fruits from their branches. These could be plucked directly, though finding such trees was rare.
The third method was the rarest. Sometimes, in special places where mana gathered unnaturally, stones would crystallize on their own. These were usually higher in quality but incredibly difficult to locate.
Regardless of how they formed, spirit stones had become a recognized currency across the world. Their value was immense. It was said that a single spirit stone could feed a family of three for three months if they lived simply and avoided extravagance. To wealthy mortals, owning even one stone was a sign of fortune.
For arcanists, spirit stones had another, greater use. By absorbing the mana within them, an arcanist could replenish their energy, aiding in cultivation and recovery.
Aldric held the stones tightly. He counted 100 of them in total. That number alone made his heart race. For the first time in his life, he had something that others would kill to possess.
He put the spirit stones away carefully, returning them to the chest. They were far too valuable to leave lying around. Then, he picked up the Heart Engraving Artifact again.
The crystalline surface pulsed faintly in his palm.
Aldric didn't hesitate. He pressed the artifact against his chest and willed it to activate.
Immediately, the world around him vanished.
A flood of information poured into him, not through his eyes or ears, but directly into his heart and mind. Images, words, sensations—all of it surged into his soul in a smooth, unstoppable stream.
There was no pain, unlike the transformation from the night before. Instead, it was like being submerged in a vast river of knowledge, one that carried him forward whether he wished it or not.
Techniques, insights, cultivation methods—all of it imprinted itself into him as naturally as breathing. The knowledge was so clear, so deeply engraved, that Aldric instinctively knew he would never be able to forget it, even if he wanted to.
When the flow of information finally slowed, he exhaled shakily. His body was drenched in sweat, his mind spinning with what he had just received.
He sat in silence, clutching the fading artifact. His heart pounded.
The chest that had remade him had not just given him power. It had given him a path.
And Aldric could already feel that the path ahead was unlike anything he had ever imagined.
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