Destroyer of Ice and Fire
Chapter 1: An awakened youth! Arcane masters, the power of bloodlines!
Southern region of the kingdom of Eiche, Cororin Town’s mining site, copper mine number three.
"d.a.m.nit… There should be enough after this piece…"
Ayrin tightly gripped the iron drill in his hands inside the depths of the mine, his body soaked from head to toe from sweat. He grasped for breath, barely keeping his body upright.
This weak and slender young man had filth smeared on his somewhat tender face, yet his eyes appeared exceptionally bright under eyebrows thick as ink. Even now, they glittered a sunny optimistic l.u.s.ter, even when he ground his teeth and stared at the ores in front of his face.
"b.a.s.t.a.r.d! There’s really no other way, I can only do it like this!"
A resolute expression suddenly flashed across his eyes.
"Ha!" He gathered his entire focus on his hands, together with his rough and heavy shout. He borrowed seemingly many invisible particles in the air, gathering them into his hands. He, who was utterly exhausted, suddenly brandished the iron drill once more at this moment, then fiercely smashed it down!
"Dang!"
A cloud of sparks splashed upwards.
The ore tottering on the wall finally fell.
"Look at my awakened power, I finally dug out enough ore, hah…"
First, Ayrin’s cheer broke through the silence, filling the black mining tunnel with his pride.
Then his miserable shriek immediately followed after. "Ah! My feet! So painful!"
Faint hoots of laughter swiftly came from other distant mining tunnels. "That little Ayrin, he was careless again and smashed his own feet with the ore he just pried off."
"Haha, it must be the third time this month, right? Another two times and he’ll break last month’s record."
"Can’t he be a bit more careful, he actually smashed his feet again."
…
A slim and frail figure appeared at the exit of the mining site when dusk descended. He was covered in smelly sweat, exhausted to such a degree he couldn’t even stand up straight. Ayrin hobbled out of the mine, his two arms drooped on the ground like soft noodles. He returned to a seemingly somewhat dilapidated Cororin Town and went into the one and only clinic in town, Auntie Emma’s clinic.
"Auntie Emma, I’m coming in."
"Little Ayrin, is the old liar still his old self? Hasn't he kicked the bucket yet." People from the town usually greeted him like this when they saw him, and auntie Emma’s greeting wasn’t any exception either today.
"I also want him to die, but he’s still alive and kicking no matter what."
"He’d have died years ago already if not for you buying him medicine and food."
"But you can’t ask me to watch him die either, right?"
"So why are you saying you want him to die… Eh, what happened to your feet, weren’t they healed yesterday already or am I remembering wrong? Don’t tell me you smashed your feet again?"
"Cough…cough… Of course not, the old wounds reopened…the old wounds reopened…"
A crestfallen Ayrin walked out of the clinic carrying a bag full of medicine, his face filled with shame. He went back home amidst concerned voices of "Still the same old with the old liar? Little Arin you were careless and smashed your feet again, remember to be careful next time." all along the way.
His house was located at the southern side of the little town, at the foot of an earthen slope. It had a courtyard surrounded by a bamboo fence.
Ayrin pushed open the yard’s creaking door. An old man with a head full of white hair sat beside a crude stone table inside the yard.
The old man had a tall figure, but looked rather sickly. His skin was covered by myriads of vestiges left behind by the pa.s.sing years, giving him a decrepit look. His clothes were similar to Ayrin’s, both repaired with mining cloth whose original color could no longer be seen. The difference was that the old man still appeared relatively clean.
