Clearly, the heavens did not hear Ethan's prayer.
Everything before his eyes suddenly flashed, as if he were falling through layer after layer of cracks made of light. All Ethan felt was an intense pain splitting his head apart, his entire body seeming to be swept into a violent vortex, only for it to come to an abrupt stop a moment later.
His stomach churned violently with sour nausea. Ethan forced his eyes open, but all that met his gaze were blurred, ungraspable images.
He hurriedly shut his eyes tight, endlessly reciting the multiplication table in his head. He had no idea how much time passed, until Ethan felt as though his soul had finally returned to his body. Aside from his heart still pounding rapidly in panic, the vertigo at last subsided. But an even bigger problem followed. He realized he could not control his body at all. He could clearly still feel his limbs, yet they no longer seemed to obey him.
Ethan opened his eyes wide. The sky had only just begun to show a pale fish-belly white, the dim light faint but still enough for him to make out the scene above.
It was a sharp, spire-like structure, with small flags of various colors swaying in the wind. Ethan stared blankly, and in an instant, he remembered exactly where this was.
The Altar of the Moonfang tribe, led by Chieftain Lunara. This was the site of the most ancient rituals of Moonfang.
Ethan blinked, then froze as a smile spread across his face. Two streams of tears he could not hold back slid down his temples like tiny rivulets.
This place was a heavily guarded forbidden ground, yet he was inside it. In just a little while, when the sun rose higher and someone came to tend to the Altar, that would be the moment he was sent on his way. Even members of the tribe would be executed if they deliberately trespassed upon the Altar, let alone him, an outsider…
Although he had read countless transmigration novels, Ethan had never once thought that he would transmigrate, nor had he ever indulged in fantasies about wanting to do so. Just surviving his current life was already hard enough. Why would he transmigrate to those worlds where killing was an everyday occurrence?!
Besides, when others transmigrated, they all got systems. As for him, he had not even heard a single damn sound. Or at the very least, they became villains or protagonists. But he… he had brought his own broken, worn-out body along with him. For heaven's sake, what was he supposed to use to climb to the peak of life? The aching back of an office worker who sat day after day?!
Even though he had already cursed once before, right now he truly wanted to curse again.
That damned author!!!
If he had known he would transmigrate, Ethan would definitely have cursed the author even harder. Damn it!
The sun gradually rose higher. Rays of sunlight slipped through the gaps between the flags, making everything seem beautifully aglow. Ethan suddenly realized that he was beginning to regain movement.
He took a deep breath, braced himself, and sat up, then looked down at himself. It was still the same pajamas he wore at home, bought three years ago, mainly blue with little white ducks dancing all over them. The fabric was wrinkled and pitiful, as if it had just been dragged out from some forgotten corner, stretched to the point of losing its elasticity. But it had to be said that it was insanely comfortable, almost like wearing nothing at all. That was exactly why Ethan favored this set so much.
He pressed his lips together, then finally could not help lifting the hem at his chest and kissing it lightly. "At least we'll be buried together."
Perhaps because death was so close, Ethan began to recall his past life. Growing up without parents, being adopted and then falling ill, then being abandoned again, saved and treated with the help of a charity fund. Rolling through all kinds of jobs. Because he knew how hard it was to earn money, he almost never refused any job he could do. He cherished the work he had even more, since who knew when layoffs might come.
Twenty-three years of life, yet it felt as though he had lived dozens of lifetimes. Every day was just like the last, nothing new. But at the very least, there had been moments when he was happy.
He did not need much. As long as he had time every day to read novels, that was enough. Because the main characters would always shine. No matter how dangerous the obstacles they faced, everything was just a rain shower before the sun grew even more dazzling. They were… the mains, the children favored by the entire world.
Of course, that also depended on the genre Ethan chose to read. Dark Magus Rise was the first novel he had plunged into without reading any warnings beforehand, and it was also the one he had stuck with for so long. With other novels, he would read at most two hundred chapters. After finishing, he would not even remember the characters, only the dopamine rush that made people feel happy.
He had thought that his Empress—Lunara herself—would climb to the peak of life, because for a full thousand chapters, that was exactly how the author had written it. Who would have expected…
Ethan suddenly realized that perhaps this was his golden finger, just as the author had said. He would save the Empress himself.
He knew exactly how the disaster would arrive upon the continent of Feralia.
The sun climbed higher and higher. Now the sky was completely free of dark clouds, as if the chaos in Ethan's mind had also been swept away.
He clenched his hand slightly and realized that he was not as panicked as he had imagined. Perhaps it was because he had already accepted death. And so, before dying, he wanted to risk everything to do something for the main character he had so desperately wished would shine…
Just then, a rumbling sound rang out, as if a massive stone had suddenly been shifted. Even though he knew there was nowhere to hide here, Ethan still instinctively glanced around in a flash of panic.
But at the same time, his hand reacted first. He pinched his thigh hard. The pain made Ethan gasp, and he muttered, "Get into work mode, Ethan!"
Work mode. Work mode. Work mode!
And so, when the two wolf beastkin walked in from outside, the first sight that greeted them was a back not particularly tall—one that, to beastkin like them, looked extremely fragile. He was wearing a strangely designed outfit they had never seen before. His hands were clasped behind his back, his head slightly raised at a forty-five-degree angle. His entire body exuded a calm, otherworldly presence, as if he did not belong to this world at all.
The two wolf beastkin could not help but be stunned. That shock quickly turned into suspicion, and finally into anger. No matter who this person was, if he dared to appear in this place, there was only one possible ending—death!
But before they could do anything, Ethan's calm voice rang out.
"I come from the void, the ruler of the endless flow of time—the Prophet. I have foreseen an unavoidable calamity that is about to descend upon Feralia. Now, take me to see Chieftain Lunara."
His voice was so even that there was almost no rise or fall to it. He was probably only around 1.8 meters tall, yet facing two existences nearly two meters tall with bulging muscles, he showed no sign of fear at all. The two wolf beastkin glanced at each other, beginning to weigh the situation.
The area outside the Altar was under heavy guard, yet this person had somehow appeared here without anyone noticing. That alone was undeniably strange. Regardless of who this person truly was—whether an ordinary intruder or some exalted being—the correct course of action was still to report to the Chieftain.
Immediately afterward, one of the two wolf beastkin left. The remaining one stepped forward, swiftly restraining Ethan's hands behind his back. The pain was so intense that Ethan nearly burst into tears.
All right. At least he was not killed on the spot. Thinking about it now still made Ethan shudder. It was only when the two wolf beastkin walked in that he truly realized the author's descriptions had not been exaggerated in the slightest.
Each of them was probably close to two meters tall, their bodies packed with massive, powerful muscles.
They were also dressed quite lightly—almost nothing but a pair of long pants, with a strip of wolf hide wrapped around the waist. Around their necks hung exquisitely crafted necklaces decorated with multicolored stones, layered rings, and embedded fangs.
Most striking of all were the pair of ears growing from their heads, the fur blending seamlessly with their hair. Behind them, at the base of their spine, was an enormous tail—likely close to one and a half meters long. The tail fur fluffed outward, making it look even larger, soft and silky in appearance. But as someone who had read novels like this before, Ethan knew very well that beastkin fur was not soft at all. To humans, it was more like needles capable of piercing flesh.