Dragon-Horn Village.
This was a small village on the southern frontier of the Xuan Ascension Continent. According to legend, a great war had once taken place here several centuries ago. Demonic beasts and the human race had refused to yield an inch, waging years of war over the southern borderlands. In the end, the demon beasts suffered a crushing defeat. Humanity pressed its advantage and carried out a massive slaughter, until the long-restrained demon race finally emerged, forcing the human advance to slow and giving rise to the tripartite balance that defined the world today.
During that war, a powerful human expert slew a Dragon Emperor of the demon race. One of the Dragon Emperor's horns fell upon this land. When the news spread, humans flocked here in droves. Some even developed and settled the area, and thus the place came to be known as Dragon-Horn Village. As for where the dragon horn itself eventually went, no one knew.
Hundreds of years passed. The human families who had chosen to settle here multiplied generation after generation. Yet because the village lay so deep in the southern frontier, most villagers eventually moved to nearby towns in search of better prospects. Dragon-Horn Village grew increasingly desolate, slowly fading from the memories of the southern people, as if it had never existed at all.
At this moment, a young boy sat atop a large stone within the village.
His skin was tanned and healthy, his face honest and simple, radiating a warm, sunlit vitality. Yet upon closer inspection, one would discover that he possessed a pair of eyes utterly unbefitting his age—
Deep and unfathomable, like a silent abyss.
The boy sat quietly, eyes closed, as though savoring the gentle warmth of the morning sun.
"Mute! You're sunbathing here again?"
A crisp voice shattered his moment of peace.
The boy opened his eyes. Before him stood a bronze-skinned girl, smiling brightly at him.
She was about the same age as he was, her hair tied into two braided plaits. She was not breathtakingly beautiful, yet slender and graceful, and when she smiled, the playful dimples on her cheeks made her all the more charming.
Behind her stood two skinny children—clearly twins. One was completely bald, while the other had a tiny braid atop his bald head. Both looked lively and innocent as they gazed at the boy.
"Sister A-Gui, that's not right. Why do you call him Mute? He has a name—A-Niu!" the bald child protested, clearly standing up for the boy.
A-Gui's face flushed. Of course she knew his name, yet for five years she had always called him "Mute." Somewhere deep down, she felt that calling him that made her feel closer to him—something no child could possibly understand.
The boy called A-Niu smiled gently at the bald child and made a few hand gestures only they understood.
The bald child puffed up angrily. "Brother A-Niu, every time I stand up for you, you protect Sister A-Gui. What kind of brother is that?"
A-Gui smacked the child lightly. "Little Fu, don't talk about Mute like that."
Little Fu rolled his eyes and nudged the other twin. "A-Gui, look! Someone's flustered!"
A-Gui's blush deepened. Her face burned as she stole a glance at A-Niu. Seeing him smile at her, she instantly lowered her head, too shy to know what to do.
The twins burst into laughter. "Hahaha! Sister A-Gui's face is all red!"
Unable to bear it any longer, A-Gui turned and ran back toward the village.
"Brother A-Niu, Little Gui and I are going swimming at the stream. Wanna come?" Little Fu asked eagerly.
A-Niu shook his head. He wanted to be alone.
"Alright then! Don't tell my mom!" The two boys ran off excitedly.
Watching their backs disappear, A-Niu closed his eyes again, sorting through his thoughts.
Five years ago, he had suffered grievous injuries. Back when he was still Falami, his own Blood-Flesh Impact spell had left him on the brink of death. Worse still, Lofit and the others had cruelly teleported him into an unknown world. At the time, survival had been a matter of sheer luck.
Perhaps fate had not abandoned him. Thanks to the Dark God's protection—and because he was already a Twelfth-Ring Necromancer—he survived by using the Soul-Possession Rebirth Art to revive within this borrowed body.
At first, he believed he had merely been sent to the far eastern territories of his homeland, the Middle Earth. After all, the humans here looked similar—black hair, black eyes. But after interacting with them, he realized he could not understand their language at all. To protect himself, he pretended to be mute and quietly observed, secretly learning.
Over time, it became clear that this was not the Middle Earth. There were no goblins, orcs, dwarves, nor even the ancient elves. The forests held only low-grade magical beasts and so-called spirit herbs—nothing more.
When he finally accepted that he was in an entirely different world, despair once consumed him. Everything familiar was gone. Finding a way back alone seemed impossible. Worse still, this world appeared to lack spellcraft altogether.
Eventually, time dulled the pain. He was grateful to the villagers of Dragon-Horn Village, who accepted him without suspicion. Their kindness was almost unbelievable.
Still, he remained vigilant. Betrayal had taught him a painful lesson—enemies in front were never as terrifying as allies behind.
Five years passed. From cautious survival to quiet integration, he had paid dearly—especially to learn this world's language and square-shaped script, so utterly different from that of the Middle Earth.
To the villagers, however, he remained a mute boy named A-Niu.
"Brother A-Niu! Have you seen those two little bastards, Little Fu and Little Gui?!"
It was their mother, Sister Cuihua.
Keeping his promise, A-Niu shook his head.
"Just wait till I catch them!" she snapped, storming off.
Concerned, A-Niu headed toward the stream.
The sound of flowing water reached his ears—but no laughter.
Something felt wrong.
At the stream, only their neatly folded clothes lay upon a stone.
He soon found the boys hiding naked in the grass, peeking ahead.
Approaching quietly, he followed their gaze.
In the clearing ahead lay a woman, her clothes disheveled, terror etched across her face. Several men surrounded her, laughing crudely like hungry wolves.
A-Niu knew exactly what would happen next.
He signaled the boys to leave. It was dangerous.
"Village Chief always says, 'When you see injustice, act,'" Little Fu whispered stubbornly.
A-Niu sighed inwardly.
With swift strikes, he knocked the boys unconscious, carried them to safety, gathered their clothes, and left.
Behind him, a woman's desperate cries rang out.
His heart wavered.
Compassion and reason warred within him.
…Sigh.
Pity is human nature.