Overdraw the future and become a peerless martial god

Chapter 129 A first glimpse of the old gods
The villagers were still not fully recovered from the shock.

They gazed at the white-haired youth, standing alone with a sword amidst the snow, his thunderous aura still lingering, his eyes cold and sharp as blades.

Only when the Broken Snow Blade slowly returned to its sheath and the lightning dissipated did everything seem to flow again.

Someone swallowed hard and whispered:
"He... with one stroke, chopped off three heads."

"They also forced the rest to retreat."

The crowd, like a bubble bursting, stirred into agitation.

"Didn't you say he was an outsider?" someone asked, looking at the guard in the watchtower. "You let him leave?"

The guard's face flushed, and he replied in a stiff voice, "How was I supposed to know he was a martial artist! Who could tell he was so good at fighting?"

"...Shot?" An elderly hunter squinted at the scorch marks and corpses on the ground and murmured softly, "That wasn't a shot, that was lightning."

"It is the power of a divine army."

The crowd's expressions became complicated. Some were amazed, some were wary, and some subconsciously put away their weapons and took two steps back.

But more than anything, it was a belated sense of gratitude, a feeling of being pulled back from the brink of life and death.

At this moment, an aged yet resonant voice came from within the village:

"Who hasn't opened the door for a stranger?"

The crowd looked in the direction of the sound and saw an elderly man with a cane slowly walking out.

His hair and beard were all white, he wore a dark gray fox fur coat, his face was thin but not withered, and his eyes were like cold stars, carrying a kind of tenacity and calmness that had been forged in the deep snow.

It was the kind of old bones that had withstood the harsh winter for a long time, exuding an aura of authority without anger.

"It's the village chief."

"The village chief himself came out."

The village entrance fell silent amidst the hushed conversation.

The old village chief walked up to Chu Ning and stared at him for a long time. His gaze was neither scrutinizing nor probing, but rather a deep weariness and clarity that came from having seen through the storms of life and long since resigned himself to his fate.

He spoke in a deep voice:
"Thank you for that strike, which saved my Cliff Fang Village."

Chu Ning nodded slightly, without pretense or refusal, and simply said:
"I just did it on a whim."

After hearing this, the old village chief suddenly chuckled softly:
"In the snowy northern plains, there aren't many people willing to draw their swords so readily."

After speaking, he turned to face the crowd, his voice not loud, yet it pierced through the snowy night:
“Starting tonight, prepare hot water, medicinal food, and a heated bed for this young man, and treat him with the courtesy due to a headhunter.”

The crowd looked at each other, their astonishment barely concealed, but no one dared to voice their objection.

They all saw that stab.

At this moment, Chu Ning saw an old hunter lift his leg armor, revealing legs that were already ulcerated and blackened, with unmelted ice crystals seeping from the rotting flesh.

The old hunter saw the look in Chu Ning's eyes and gave a bitter smile:
"The snow in the far north devours people starting from their feet."

Chu Ning silently followed the village chief into the village. By the wooden fence hung strings of wind chimes, all carved from animal bones. The chimes sounded hollow and low, like weeping when the wind blew.

He instinctively stopped and squinted to examine them closely. The inner walls of each bone bell were engraved with twisted runes. The runes were weathered and mottled by wind and snow, but their shapes were still faintly discernible.

That is an 'exorcising mark' that has been passed down in the far north, but it is so ancient that almost no one recognizes its original meaning anymore.

In the center of the village stands a stone statue of a snow fox.

It is carved entirely from cold crystal stone, covered in wind and snow yet untouched by dust, with its eyes closed, head bowed and body lying down, quietly perched on a snowy base.

Several elderly women were gathered around the statue, slowly scooping snow water from the well and respectfully sprinkling it around the fox statue's limbs, ladle by ladle. They were chanting barely audible words in a calm tone, yet with a certain ancient and solemn power.

Chu Ning stopped, his hearing sharpened, and he heard them chanting softly:

"If the snow doesn't melt, the fox won't wake up; if the fox doesn't wake up, its soul will have nowhere to go." "Three snowflakes fall, calling you back to the forest; four nights of calm wind, and the fox god will set out."

Leng Feng whispered from the side:
"This is our Yaya Village's 'snow-dripping instrument.' It has been passed down from our ancestors—every winter, we have to drip snow in front of the snow fox statue for three days to awaken the fox god's will."

He paused, then lowered his voice and said:
"It is said that as long as the Fox God remains unawakened, this land will not belong to Blood Eye, nor to evil spirits."

Chu Ning gazed silently at the snow fox statue. The stone statue stood quietly in the wind, its eyes lowered, as if asleep or waiting.

Just then, the fox head pendant on his chest suddenly warmed slightly, as if responding to the long-forgotten statue of a god.

In the sea of ​​consciousness, Tun Yuan's usually arrogant voice unexpectedly fell silent for a long time.

After a long silence, he chuckled softly.
"Ha... So what you believe in isn't inanimate objects, but crumbling gods."

"Unfortunately... it's not just the gods who are crippled, but also the human heart."

Chu Ning was slightly startled and was about to ask Tun Yuan when a child ran past him with a rough wooden pendant around his neck. The pendant was crooked, but the outline was roughly clear.

Chu Ning glanced at it out of the corner of his eye, and his gaze immediately sharpened. The fox head on the wooden carving bore a striking resemblance to the fox head pendant hanging around his neck, with about seven-tenths of its features.

This coincidence seems like a call from the heavens, or a projection of fate.

……

That night, Chu Ning was placed in a wooden house in the center of the village.

The house was old, with slightly drafty wooden walls, but the stove was burning brightly, dispelling most of the chill. The interior exuded a simple yet clean, warm atmosphere.

On the table were hot soup, coarsely salted roasted meat, and a bowl of ginseng soup, thick in color and with a slightly bitter aroma.

Chu Ning picked up the soup bowl, took a sip, and felt the heat flow down her throat into her chest and abdomen, as if a warm current was slowly stirring, dispelling the chill accumulated from days of fleeing.

He leaned back in his chair, closed his eyes and rested, gently placing his palm over the fox head pendant.

The pendant was still warm, as if responding to some unknown destiny deep within this snowy landscape.

A short while later, the wooden door creaked open.

The old village chief entered, leaning on his cane.

His clothes were old and worn, he was draped in a gray fox fur coat, his hair and beard were all white, but his back was still straight, and his eyes held a stubbornness and calmness unique to old men from the far north.

He didn't exchange any pleasantries, but simply sat by the fireplace, silently watching the fire burn and the candlelight flicker slowly on the wooden wall, like a slow, deliberate contemplation of time.

"Where are you headed, young hero?" he asked, his tone gentle yet carrying a silent dullness. "Judging from your clothes, you don't seem to be from the North."

Chu Ning raised his eyes and said calmly:

"The far north."

The old village chief paused, his gaze lingering on the man's face for a moment before he said in a low voice:
"Do you know that three months ago... beneath the Cangque Pass in the far north, a sound that did not belong to the human world was heard?"

Chu Ning's brows twitched, and he slowly raised his head.

"What's the noise?"

The old village chief lowered his voice, as if afraid of disturbing something unseen:
"It's like a stone bell buried under snow for thousands of years, which was struck from the bottom by something."

"The sound... wasn't loud, but it could be heard throughout the entire far north. The entire earth vein trembled for three breaths."

The firelight illuminated the old man's face, and his gaze pierced through the flames, looking at the snowy night deep in his memory:
“From that day on, the snow line advanced ahead of schedule, wild beasts fled in terror, a blood moon appeared on the Broken Ridge, and even outside your Great Qian border, wave after wave of beast tides attacked the northern defense line.”

"The Great Wall was severely damaged, and five northern defense fortresses collapsed. Wild beasts broke into the pass for the first time, tearing apart pastures and villages."

Chu Ning's expression changed slightly. He tapped the wooden chair armrest with his fist, and the fox head pendant on his chest suddenly trembled slightly, emitting a barely perceptible warm pulse.

(End of this chapter)