The Elven Cultivator

Spirit Bodies were incredibly rare.

After Laine, Taichu City had recruited nearly a thousand disciples over time.

A good number of them possessed outstanding Spirit Roots.

There had been those with Dual Spirit Roots and even triple spirit roots, but they had never managed to find a second candidate with a Spirit Body.

He never would have thought he’d discover a Spirit Body in a Half-Elf.

Anton couldn’t help but marvel at the curious ways of the world.

His gaze fell upon the Half-Elf maiden. His mind was already racing, running through the signs and characteristics of several types of Spirit Bodies. However, he wouldn’t know which one it was until he tested her.

“What is your name?”

“My lord, my name is Ivy,” the Half-Elf maiden answered in a low voice.

Anton nodded and said no more, simply gesturing for Ivy to stand up.

At the same time, a group of Taichu City disciples arrived and entered the camp.

Without needing orders from Anton, they automatically fanned out to take over the tasks of cleaning up the battlefield and freeing the slaves.

Aolu walked over then, followed by the Ape-man elder.

“Lord Anton, I am eternally grateful.”

Aolu had a burly frame, but before Anton, his back was slightly bowed. He adopted an extremely humble posture, his voice filled with gratitude.

“If you hadn’t happened to pass by, my son and I, along with the rest of our clansmen, would have all perished here. This kindness… I truly don’t know how I can ever repay you.”

“Don’t overthink it,” Anton said calmly. “I came here to wipe out the Slave Hunting Team. Saving you was just a matter of convenience.”

“Regardless, you saved our lives,” Aolu said with a solemn expression.

After a pause, he glanced back at his son being supported by their kinsmen in the distance, then at the blood-soaked Ape-man elder and the remaining clansmen behind him. A fierce light flickered in his eyes for a moment before, as if he had finally made up his mind, he bowed his back even lower.

“Lord Anton, I have an audacious request!”

Anton said nothing, merely watching him quietly.

Aolu pleaded, “I hope you will take us in and allow us to become a Vassal Race of the Silver Moon Race.”

A flash of surprise crossed Anton’s eyes, but he didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he countered with a question of his own, “What was the origin of that Beastman from before?”

Aolu was taken aback for a second, then quickly recovered and replied, “He was from the Steel Mane Tribe.”

Anton’s gaze flickered.

He was no stranger to that name.

The Steel Mane Tribe was one of the strongest powers in the Thundering River Basin.

Years ago, they had united with numerous other factions to overthrow Dragon City in the Thundering River Basin.

After that, the Steel Mane Tribe expanded rapidly throughout the Thundering River Basin, annexing many factions and showing signs of becoming the region’s hegemon.

It was worth noting that Eleanor had once mentioned the Steel Mane Tribe was one of the backers behind the Slave Hunting Teams.

Anton continued impassively, “Why would the Steel Mane Tribe go to such great lengths to set a trap and ambush you?”

A look of resentment flashed in Aolu’s eyes as he ground out, “They were acting on the orders of the Blood Claw Race. They want to steal our Ancestor Totem.”

“Not long ago, the Blood Claw Race suddenly attacked our clan. They killed many of our people, and even our Clan Leader… died at their hands.”

“We fought with all our might and sacrificed many of our clansmen to carve a bloody path out, escaping with the Ancestor Totem.”

“But they still wouldn’t give up and pursued us relentlessly. We were forced to flee into the Tide Sound Plain. A few days ago, my son was accidentally captured by a Slave Hunting Team. I rushed here to save him as soon as I got word, only to walk right into their trap.”

Anton’s eyes glinted.

He suddenly recalled the incident back in Ranfeng Hall. The Legendary Powerhouse from the Blood Claw Race named Byron had threatened Aolu right in front of him, demanding he hand something over. They had almost come to blows.

It seemed now that the thing Byron had his eye on back then was likely the Golden-backed Ape-man tribe’s Ancestor Totem.

Seeing Anton remain silent, Aolu’s heart filled with anxiety. But he quickly mustered his courage and pleaded again, “Lord Anton, I know this is a sudden request, but we truly have no other choice…”

The Golden-backed Ape-man tribe’s only Legendary Combat Power had already died in battle. The only Golden Peak experts left in the clan were him and the elder. Carrying a great treasure like the Ancestor Totem, if they continued to flee, they would sooner or later be hunted down and wiped out by the combined forces of the Blood Claw Race and the Steel Mane Tribe.

Anton’s tone was still calm. “I am not afraid of the Blood Claw Race, nor the Steel Mane Tribe. But I have no reason to make enemies of two major powers for your sake.”

Aolu fell silent.

He knew Anton was right.

The Blood Claw Race was a first-rate power. Although the Steel Mane Tribe was slightly weaker, it was still the strongest hegemon in the Thundering River Basin.

In the current situation, no one would be willing to offend two major powers simultaneously for a group of fugitives.

Unless… they could offer something impressive enough to move him.

Aolu’s expression flickered indecisively for a long moment. Finally, he gritted his teeth as if having made a monumental decision, took the Space Ring from his right index finger, and presented it to Anton with both hands.

“Lord Anton, I am willing to offer you the Ancestor Totem, along with all the resources our tribe has accumulated over the years, as the price for your protection.”

The Ape-man elder behind him paled slightly. His lips moved a few times, but in the end, no words came out.

He also knew that in their current situation, they could no longer afford to hold anything back.

If the Ancestor Totem remained in their hands, it would fall into the possession of the Blood Claw Race sooner or later.

Rather than letting their enemies benefit for free, it was better to use it to trade for a chance at survival.

It was better than letting the Blood Claw Race succeed.

Only then did Anton’s gaze shift slightly. His Divine Sense immediately spread out and probed the Space Ring.

The space inside the ring wasn’t small, and it was piled with many things.

Metal ingots, beast hides, medicinal herbs, scattered Gemstones…

They were all items that would be quite impressive to an ordinary faction, but in Anton’s eyes, they were nothing worth mentioning.

His Divine Sense merely swept past them, moving beyond the miscellaneous materials and heading straight for the deepest part of the Space Ring.

There, a massive totem lay quietly on its side.

It was over a hundred meters long, as thick as the trunk of an ancient tree that had grown for a thousand years.

Its entire body was a deep grayish-brown, with a texture like some extremely ancient hardwood. After being steeped and polished by the long river of time, its surface was coated in a warm, greasy sheen, giving it a heavy, substantial feel.

But what truly caught Anton’s eye were the dense carvings covering the totem’s surface.

Without exception, the contents depicted scenes of Golden-backed Ape-men fighting, hunting, cultivating, and worshiping.

A series of complete and continuous images spiraled up the column, stretching from bottom to top like a history scroll unfurled upon a log, depicting how the ancestors of the Golden-backed Ape-man tribe grew their clan.

Beneath these lifelike images, Anton’s Divine Sense penetrated through the layers of wood grain and probed into the deepest part of the column’s core.

There, he sensed an extremely faint, yet very real, pulse.

Its aura was ancient and distant, carrying a weariness and indifference as if it had slumbered for thousands of years, yet it faintly revealed a hazy consciousness.

A Spirit Soul.

A flash of surprise crossed Anton’s eyes.

‘I can’t believe I found a Spirit Soul in this totem.’ But on second thought, it wasn’t that surprising.

Ancestor Totems were, by nature, one of the easiest vessels to nurture a Spirit Soul.

This totem had been worshiped by the Golden-backed Ape-man tribe for countless generations. With layers of faith and hope deposited over the ages, it wasn’t strange that a Spirit Soul could condense within it over such a long period.

‘Perhaps the Blood Claw Race targeted this Ancestor Totem precisely because of this special quality.’

At this thought, a sense of pleasure grew in Anton’s heart.

With the Spirit Soul from the totem, he could forge a second Spiritual Artifact in a short time.

Since Aolu had offered such a great gift, Anton was naturally not one to be stingy. He spoke at once.

“Fine. I accept your offer.”

“From this day forward, you are a Vassal Race of the Silver Moon Race.”

Aolu, as if a great weight had been lifted, finally showed a look of genuine ecstasy. “Thank you, Lord Anton!”

His knees buckled as he was about to kneel in salute, but Anton stopped him with a raised hand.

“It was merely a fair trade.”

Just then, a low, steady hum suddenly echoed from the night sky.

Everyone looked up subconsciously to see a massive, cyan-white Flying Ship slowly approaching from the horizon.

Its hull was long and streamlined, and the pavilions on its deck were brightly lit, making it look like a floating palace in the night.

The slaves and Golden-backed Ape-men in the camp had never seen such a spectacle. They all stared wide-eyed, and some even took half a step back unconsciously.

“Don’t be nervous. That is our clan’s Flying Ship,” Anton said at the right moment.

Before setting out, he had already contacted the clan to dispatch the Cloud-Surging Flying Ship to conveniently transport the Half-Elves to the Taichu Spirit Realm.

The Golden-backed Ape-men had simply come at an opportune time.

Aolu and the Ape-man elder’s gazes swept back and forth between the Flying Ship’s hull and its pavilions, their faces also filled with shock.

Back at Darkness Fortress, they had heard that the Silver Moon Race possessed an exceptionally strange, giant flying vessel.

But hearing about it was one thing; seeing it with their own eyes now, the impact was far beyond their imagination.

“It’s so big,” the young Ape-man muttered, his face filled with shock.

A few of the Taichu City disciples standing nearby exchanged glances. No one said anything, but the corners of their mouths all held a faint, knowing smile.

‘If they’re this shocked just by seeing the Cloud-Surging Flying Ship, won’t their eyes pop out when they see the even more massive Flying Sun Towers?’

The Cloud-Surging Flying Ship landed smoothly on an open patch of ground outside the camp, its gangway lowering silently.

Meanwhile, the battle on the other side of the camp had long since concluded.

Lucius sheathed his sword and walked back into the camp from out of the darkness.

His gait was unhurried, his face showing a faint look of satisfaction.

Clearly, the recent battle had been quite enjoyable for him.

Anton’s gaze swept over the crowd as he waved a hand. “Bring everything you can carry. Prepare to depart.”

The Taichu City disciples immediately acknowledged the order and scattered, getting busy.

A short while later, everyone, including the rescued slaves, boarded the Flying Ship one after another.

The Flying Ship quickly ascended again. A streak of cyan-white light tore through the low-hanging night sky, speeding toward the Taichu Spirit Realm before vanishing over the horizon in the blink of an eye.