Chapter 2 - Chapter 2: Immortal Sect Proclamation, The Erosion-Purging Plan

# Prelude to the Dragon-Eating · Chapter of the Primal Calamity ## Chapter 2: Immortal Sect Proclamation, The Erosion-Purging Plan When A-Chen fled back from the threshing ground, his cheeks still burned. The bitterness and humiliation in his chest lingered like an unblockable fog, suffocating him. The pain in his fingertips was still sharp—marks left when he had clutched his clothes so tight his nails dug into his flesh—but it was nothing compared to the taunts echoing in his ears: *"spiritless trash,"* *"daring to meddle with the Immortal Sect."* Each word stabbed into his heart like a needle. He gripped the wooden tablet at his waist and hurried through the mist-wreathed alley. The cloth cord had loosened slightly in his panic, and the tablet pressed against his skin, carrying a faint but steady warmth, like a thin ray of light that slightly chased away the cold in his heart. A-Chen instinctively pressed the tablet, his fingers brushing its rough surface. During the test earlier, it had accidentally brushed the Spirit Testing Stone. Fortunately, nothing strange had happened, and no Immortal Sect disciple had noticed. Otherwise, he would have failed to keep the old village chief's warning. Pushing open the wooden door of his adobe house, a faint medicinal scent filled the air—the lingering smell of the herbs the old chief took year-round. The chief was still in bed, his eyes half-closed as if resting. At the sound, he slowly opened his eyes. His clear gaze fell on A-Chen, and he saw through his embarrassment and grievance at a glance. "You didn't awaken a spiritual root, did you?" The chief's voice was slightly hoarse, but there was no mockery in it, only faint sorrow. He lifted his thin, bony hand and gestured for A-Chen to come closer. "Come sit. Don't take it to heart. We were born mortals, after all. Living a steady, honest life is better than anything." A-Chen walked to the bed and sat down slowly, his head hanging low, his voice carrying a barely perceptible sob. "Chief, I'm useless. I really have no spiritual root. They all laughed at me… called me trash." He did not dare look the chief in the eye, afraid of seeing disappointment, even more afraid that his own eyes would redden. The old chief gently patted the back of his hand. His bony palm was rough with age, yet extraordinarily warm. "Silly boy. What trash? So what if you have no spiritual root? We steal nothing, rob nothing. We cut firewood and farm with our own hands, support ourselves, and guard this small home. That is not being trash." He paused, his tone suddenly solemn, his gaze fixed firmly on A-Chen's waist. "At the threshing ground just now… the wooden tablet wasn't seen by outsiders, was it?" A-Chen quickly nodded, tucking the tablet deeper into his clothes to ensure not even a corner showed. "Chief, I remembered. No one saw it. It brushed the Spirit Testing Stone earlier, but nothing went wrong. Don't worry." The old chief exhaled in relief, but the gravity in his eyes did not fade—if anything, it deepened with worry. He sighed softly and murmured to himself: "Good that nothing happened… good… but these peaceful days… I'm afraid they won't last much longer." A-Chen froze, lifting his head in confusion. "Chief, what do you mean? Are more strange beasts coming to trouble the village again?" Over the years, low-level strange beasts had occasionally appeared in Green Mist Village. Though not deadly, they often disturbed the villagers. A-Chen assumed the chief was worried about this. But the old chief only shook his head, not explaining. He closed his eyes, his expression growing heavier, muttering indistinct words: *Dragon-Eater*, *Spirit Tribulation*—so softly they were barely whispers. Even when A-Chen leaned closer, he could not make them out clearly. He wanted to ask what the words meant, but seeing the chief's tired, heavy look, he swallowed the question. The silence did not last long. Suddenly, loud noises erupted from the village entrance, mixed with the cold shouts of Immortal Sect disciples, shattering Green Mist Village's usual peace. A-Chen's heart tightened. He stood up instinctively, wanting to go see what was happening, but the old chief grabbed him firmly. "Don't go out. Stay inside. No matter what you hear, do not go out." The chief's voice was urgent, his grip stronger than usual, panic in his eyes—a look A-Chen had never seen before. "Quick. Take off the wooden tablet from your waist and give it to me. I'll hide it." A-Chen was startled by the chief's urgency. He quickly untied the cord, took off the tablet, and handed it over. The moment the tablet left his skin, the faint warmth vanished, leaving an empty feeling in his chest. The old chief took the tablet and carefully stroked its surface, his eyes complicated—worried, reluctant, and heavy with something A-Chen could not understand. Then he lifted his pillow, hid the tablet in a secret compartment beneath it, and smoothed the pillow carefully, leaving no trace. "Chief, what's really happening?" A-Chen could not help asking. The noise outside grew louder, the shouts of the disciples and the murmur of the villagers weaving together, thick with unease. Before the old chief could speak, heavy footsteps sounded outside, accompanied by a cold, clear voice: "People of Green Mist Village, attend! The Immortal Sect Alliance has a proclamation to read. All villagers, gather at the village threshing ground immediately. No delays. Anyone who disobeys will be charged with colluding with the remnants of the Dragon-Eater!" *Remnants of the Dragon-Eater?* A-Chen's heart jolted. The words *Dragon-Eater* the chief had mumbled earlier surfaced again. He grew even more confused. What exactly was this Dragon-Eater? Why did the Immortal Sect disciples take it so seriously, even labeling those who defied the proclamation as colluders? The old chief's face paled. He slowly stood, leaning against the wall, struggling to straighten his body, his voice heavy. "What was meant to come… has come. A-Chen, you come with me to the threshing ground. Remember: no matter what you hear, what you see, do not speak, do not ask questions, and never mention the wooden tablet. Even if someone asks, say you know nothing. Understand?" A-Chen saw how difficult the chief was moving, and remembered how frantically he had hidden the tablet earlier. He quickly nodded, supporting the chief's arm, and replied softly: "I understand, Chief. I won't say a word." The two slowly walked out. Green mist still hung in the air. The alley was packed with villagers hurrying to the threshing ground, all with confused, anxious expressions, whispering among themselves but not daring to speak loudly, fearing scolding from the patrolling Immortal Sect disciples. The disciples wore moon-white robes, their expressions cold, holding spirit swords, patrolling back and forth. Faint spiritual energy rippled around them, and the invisible pressure made the villagers hardly dare to breathe. By the time they reached the threshing ground, it was already packed tighter than during the spiritual root test earlier. Yet there was no joy left—only stifled silence and anxiety. In the center stood the same simple wooden table, but the Spirit Testing Stone had been put away. In its place lay a yellowed scroll, embroidered with intricate cloud patterns, exuding a solemn, authoritative air—clearly an official proclamation from the Immortal Sect. The three Immortal Sect disciples still stood beside the table. The lead cultivator's face was expressionless, his eyes sharp as blades, sweeping over the crowd. His voice was cold and solemn: "Silence, all! Today, under orders from the Immortal Sect Alliance, I read this proclamation to all under heaven. The Spirit Tribulation draws near. Heaven and earth are unquiet, spiritual energy is in chaos, and strange beasts run amok—all for one reason: The ancient **Dragon-Eater** is about to awaken. This creature is neither demon, nor immortal, nor devil. It commands the power of **Spirit Erosion**, its might overwhelming. It is the source of the coming calamity!" The moment he finished speaking, the threshing ground erupted. The villagers stared in shock, whispering in terror and confusion. "Dragon-Eater? What is that?" "The source of calamity? Are we all going to live in disaster from now on?" "Can the Immortal Sect Alliance protect us?" "Silence!" The lead cultivator snapped sharply, his pressure spreading again. The ground fell dead silent. "The Immortal Sect Alliance has long detected this threat. Starting today, we officially launch the **Erosion-Purging Plan**. Within a hundred years, we will scour the entire world for all Dragon-Eater bones, inheritance marks, and related artifacts. All will be destroyed. We will cut off its legacy, without mercy!" He paused and continued: "At the same time, the Alliance will gather and train all talented disciples with spiritual roots to establish the **Tribulation-Resisting Army**. They will cultivate immortal arts, prepare for a hundred years, and vow to strangle the Dragon-Eater before it fully awakens—protecting all living beings and stopping the calamity!" "Erosion-Purging Plan… destroy Dragon-Eater bones…" A-Chen repeated the words under his breath. A nameless unease suddenly rose in his chest. He instinctively looked at the old chief beside him, only to find his face as pale as paper, his body trembling slightly, his hands clenched so tight his knuckles whitened, fear and despair in his eyes—as if he had heard something utterly horrifying. The lead cultivator continued reading the proclamation, his voice still cold: "All villages and cities under heaven must cooperate with the Alliance's search. Anyone who hides Dragon-Eater-related items or shelters its remnants will be charged with the same crime, and their entire clan executed! Green Mist Village lies on the edge of the Immortal Sect territory, making it a key search area. In three days, Immortal Sect disciples will arrive to search. I urge all villagers to abide by the rules, hand over any related items voluntarily, and not test our mercy!" When the proclamation was finished, the lead cultivator rolled up the scroll and glanced coldly over the crowd, his tone warning: "Within three days, any villager who discovers abnormalities may report to the disciples for a generous reward. Anyone who hides the truth will bear the consequences! We will station here today to supervise you all. No mistakes." He then signaled to the two disciples beside him. They nodded, turned to the corner of the threshing ground, and began setting up temporary tents, their expressions vigilant, their eyes occasionally sweeping over the villagers as if monitoring them. The villagers murmured, filled with fear and powerlessness, complaining softly as they slowly dispersed. Some worried their families would be implicated, others feared the Dragon-Eater calamity, and some wondered why the Immortal Sect Alliance feared the Dragon-Eater so deeply. But none dared step forward and ask. A-Chen supported the old chief, slowly squeezing out of the crowd. The chief was still pale, trembling, not saying a word, his eyes empty as if his soul had left him. Back home, the chief collapsed onto the bed, slowly closed his eyes, and let out a long, heavy sigh—so heavy it seemed it could crush a man. "Calamity… it's really coming… A-Chen… the days ahead will never be peaceful again." A-Chen looked at his exhausted, heavy expression and could not hold back any longer. "Chief, what exactly is the Dragon-Eater? Why does the Immortal Sect Alliance say it's the source of calamity? And the wooden tablet you hid… is it related to the Dragon-Eater?" The chain of questions had weighed on his heart for a long time. Now they finally burst out. The old chief opened his eyes and looked at A-Chen, his gaze complicated. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but in the end, he only shook his head, his voice calm yet solemn: "A-Chen, you are still too young. Some things are better left unknown. When the time comes, I will tell you naturally. Only remember this: live well, protect yourself, and do not get tangled in these conflicts. Especially not the conflict over the Dragon-Eater. Once you're pulled in… you'll die without a place to rest." A-Chen wanted to ask more, but seeing the chief's firm gaze, he swallowed his words. He knew the chief had his reasons for staying silent—just as he never spoke of A-Chen's origins or the tablet's past. All to protect him. Night gradually fell. Green Mist Village was shrouded in darkness, eerily quiet. Only the occasional footsteps of patrolling Immortal Sect disciples broke the stillness. A-Chen sat by the bed, watching the sleeping chief, confusion and unease filling his eyes. The Immortal Sect's proclamation. The chief's strange behavior. The hidden wooden tablet. The mysterious Dragon-Eater. And his own spiritless body… It all felt connected by some hidden thread. He instinctively touched his waist. It was empty, without the tablet's warmth, leaving his heart unsettled. He quietly stood, walked to the bed, and stared at the secret compartment beneath the pillow. He wanted to take out the tablet, but remembering the chief's warning, he held back. Outside the window, the night deepened. Spiritual energy seemed even more chaotic. From the distant mountains came the roars of strange beasts, carrying an air of unrest. A-Chen knew: from the moment the Immortal Sect Alliance read that proclamation, Green Mist Village's peace was completely broken. And his own life… was about to face a tremendous upheaval. He did not know what that upheaval would be, nor which path he would take in the future. He only knew he must protect the old chief, protect this home, and uncover the secrets hidden through the years—secrets about the wooden tablet, the Dragon-Eater, and his own true identity. And he did not notice: In the secret compartment beneath the pillow, the hidden wooden tablet was faintly warming. Extremely faint lines were slowly appearing on its surface, so fleeting they seemed like an illusion—responding to the chaotic spiritual energy of heaven and earth, and foreshadowing that a legacy dormant for ten thousand years was about to quietly awaken within him.