My attributes are increasing infinitely Chapter 455: Ghost town

The illusory realm shattered as if a veil had been swiftly pulled aside.

Stars in the sky grew faint. The hushed meadow faded away. Timber walls of the tavern pieced back together surrounding Ethan and the elder like the event never took place. Toppled pots restored to perfection. Lamps glowed with steady flames. From outside, the hill breeze picked up its usual soft hum.

The elder now stood tall, his weakness vanished. His spine aligned perfectly, and an aura of controlled yet undeniable force emanated from him.

Ethan observed him with composure.

"Elder, don't let this trouble you," he stated evenly. "I'm just a wanderer who likes pushing his limits against foes. Be well."

The elder's eyes tightened a bit. "You sought me out on purpose to stir trouble."

"I did."

Ethan reached out his hand. A sword materialized in his grasp, crafted from light gray spirit metal and inscribed with overlapping symbols that glowed softly. Its energy stayed contained, but true masters would know it as a supreme spiritual artifact able to bolster a ruler's intent.

"Accept this as my regret," Ethan offered. "Your brew deserved much more."

The elder hesitated to grasp it right away. His stare fixed on Ethan's features, probing for sarcasm or concealed spite. He detected none.

"You're a strange youth," the seasoned cultivator remarked softly.

"I've heard that before."

Ethan set the blade down on the bar and retreated a step. His form flickered, then disappeared entirely without causing even a hint of spatial disturbance.

The elder stayed motionless for quite a while. At last, he picked up the sword and inspected it thoroughly. His face turned pensive.

"He baited me to attack first," he whispered. "Yet he had no plan to end me."

He glanced at the entrance where Ethan had lingered seconds ago. The peak darkness seemed altered subtly, like a tempest had swept by without unleashing its downpour.

—

Ethan strolled down a serene path outside Black Reed Town. Moonlight stretched shadows over the farmlands. He held his presence in check, his stance loose.

In his mind, the system panel throbbed lightly.

[Target framework captured.]

[Fusion procedure begun.]

He breathed out gradually.

"As Yumiko mentioned," he muttered to himself, "plenty of unbound immortals roam these worldly domains. Certain ones match immortal rulers in might. I'll face them all in turn."

He halted, sensing the initial pulses of blending force weave into his meridians.

"For starters, I need the framework to stabilize."

He pressed on with his steps.

Seconds later, Yumiko's words echoed in his thoughts.

[Master, I sense a hint of divine essence roughly two thousand miles to the southeast.]

Ethan's eyes focused sharply.

"Divine essence?"

[Indeed. The vibration is weak yet untainted.]

He grinned faintly. "Then let's investigate."

He advanced with one stride.

The landscape smeared, yet space remained undisturbed. No rifts formed. His frame simply surged ahead, driven by sheer velocity that warped the skyline before him.

The very next moment, he arrived at the rock entrance of a settlement unfamiliar to him.

Rows of lamps dangled above. Tunes floated on the evening breeze. Chuckles resounded amid dwellings decorated with crimson flags and flowing silk ribbons. Aromas of grilled flesh and fragrant liquor permeated the lanes.

The whole village buzzed with festivity.

Ethan squinted his eyes.

"Hm."

His spirit sense stretched outward.

Under the lively noise and hues hid a chill. Buildings stood firm, but their bases rang empty. Shapes gliding along the paths had outlines yet no spark of life.

"This place is a spectral village," he determined softly.

All that met normal vision was a facade draped over grudge and recollection.

"How fascinating."

He crossed the threshold.

As his boot met the cobblestone, an unseen wave rippled across the village. Each roaming soul felt his arrival via a common mark linking them as one.

A lady drew near him.

Her beauty struck vividly, clad in ritual garments of silk. Her grin beamed warmly, her gaze sparkling with delight.

"Sir," she spoke kindly, "would you stay the night in our village?"

"What's going on here?" Ethan inquired.

"It's the wedding day for the village head's daughter. Everyone's joining the feast."

Her voice held real happiness. No deceit rippled in her energy.

Ethan's face turned reflective.

[Yumiko.]

[Master, this marks the day of their demise. You're viewing a held remnant of history.]

He inclined his head.

Songs swelled by the main plaza. A band of maidens swirled in synced motions, their robes rippling like tides.

Ethan claimed a vacant seat close to the show. He viewed it wordlessly.

The melody rang true. The mirth flowed freely. For a short while, the village seemed truly vibrant beyond mere deception.

Then the beat stumbled.

Hoofbeats rumbled from the north path.

Scores of horsemen charged into sight, faces hidden by masks and weapons drawn. Their arrival broke the peace like a knife slicing fabric.

Raiders.

Villagers halted in shock. Bewilderment crossed their expressions.

One rider leaped down suddenly. His form showed faint animal marks, bands on his limbs and extended fangs peeking under his cover.

"Boss," he bellowed roughly, "look at all these beauties. I can't hold back."

He pounced at a maiden and slammed her down.

Turmoil exploded.

Shrieks drowned the tunes. Males surged ahead wielding plow tools and ritual blades. They fell with ease. Skulls tumbled over paved roads. Crimson stained the festive cloths hung high.

Ethan stayed put.

He observed.

The brutality mounted with calculated savagery. The raiders avoided quick deaths. They defiled the village's honor prior to snuffing its spark. The mirage concealed none of the dread. It etched it in stark detail.

Within under two hours, the revelry turned to slaughter.

The bride got hauled from her room. Her wails lingered well past her endurance.

Once opposition ceased, the assailants butchered the leftover folk without pause.

Afterward, they departed.

Quiet descended.

But not every spark had faded.

A few holdouts still drew air.

Ethan's chin clenched.

From the south route arrived another band. Wayfarers. Mortals by attire and words.

They scanned the ruin with icy stares.

One chuckled uneasily.

Rather than help, they plunged into vice. The final holdouts faced a grimmer end before oblivion took them.

The mirage spared no detail.

As it at last unraveled, the lamps faded. Dwellings crumbled to gloom. The atmosphere grew dense with icy grudge.

Laments surged from all sides.

"Why?"

"Why did we get forsaken?"

The full village transformed to its real state. Phantoms swarmed the ways, their looks warped by agony and wrath.

Ethan kept his position from where he had sat.

"Such deep grudge," he uttered gently. "No surprise you remain."

His sight shifted to the plaza's border.

Five shapes lingered separate from the rest. Three youths. Two females. One female cradled an infant.

Ethan had detected the divine origin sooner. It emanated subtly from that infant.

The raiders and wayfarers had vanished long ago. The carnage had concluded. Still, the kept echo fed the phantoms' ceaseless fury.

The five shapes started advancing.

They released spirit arts without delay, slicing through nearby wraiths. Their faces burned with fervor, nearly frenzied, as though aiming to wipe out the echo by shattering its echoes.

The infant stayed mute in the female's hold, gaze alert and keen.

Ethan watched intently.

"If I step in here," he pondered, "the equilibrium will tip."

Instead, he faded from view.

He rematerialized next to the female with the infant.

She tensed at once. His arrival had evaded her notice.

"Is he your boy?" Ethan questioned steadily.

The female's hold grew firmer.

The infant directed his look at Ethan.

For a split second, the space linking them grew heavy.

Ethan bent forward a touch.

"Greetings, offspring of the God Clan," he voiced lowly. "Care to talk?"

The youth's eyes held unusual calm for his young build.

"You hail from beyond this world," the infant responded, his speech even for his tiny form.

"Nor do you," Ethan retorted.

The female's bewilderment increased. "What do you mean?"

The infant ignored her.

"Your power surged in mere days," the youth noted softly to Ethan. "The Tower blesses you."

Ethan's face stayed neutral.

"You know of it then."

The infant's divine spark wavered lightly, a natural shield.

"I know plenty."

Nearby phantoms wailed, but none neared. An unseen strain isolated this tiny area from the turmoil outside.

Ethan examined the youth with sharp curiosity.

"You're gathering strength from their grudge," he noted. "Yet you won't release them."

The youth's stare intensified.

"Liberty won't bring back the stolen."

"True," Ethan conceded. "But ceaseless killing won't either."

The five allies kept hacking at phantoms with unyielding skill. Their methods shone with accuracy and habit.

"You aim to reap them," Ethan stated.

The youth offered no denial.

Ethan rose straight.

"I won't meddle in your way," he declared evenly. "But curiosity grips me."

"Of what?"

"Your limits."

The youth's divine light surged for an instant.

"You seek to test me?"

"Someday."

Ethan's mouth hinted at a smile.

"For the moment, I'll watch."

He withdrew a pace.