Starting as dockworkers, they swept through Chongqing.

Chapter 179 The Ocelli Family's Foundation

After Ross left, Russell and the butler walked one after the other up the thickly carpeted stairs toward the study on the top floor of the manor.

The study door was reinforced with heavy lead plates, which could block most spiritual detection.

Pushing open the door, the room was dimly lit, with only a gas lamp on the desk emitting a faint yellow glow.

In the study, a man sat in a large, armchair, turning the pages of an ancient, decaying parchment-covered scripture by the dim light.

Compared to the middle-aged Rosselk, who was in his prime, or the somewhat aged butler, this man seemed far too old.

He looked to be in his seventies or eighties, with sparse, gray hair and deep wrinkles around his eyes that resembled cracks on a dried-up riverbed. In the dim light, they looked terrifying and even gave off an inhuman eeriness.

This is the true foundation of the Ocelli family, Rosselk's father, the previous generation's old baron.

Hearing the door open, the old man slowly closed the heavy scripture.

His movements were extremely slow, as if each breath required a tremendous amount of effort.

He looked up, his cloudy eyes, almost devoid of pupils, at Rossellk, and let out a sigh as loud as a broken bellows: "Young man, you're really something. How old is that guy named Lund this year?"

Rossellk walked to the desk, bowed respectfully, and after a moment's thought, replied, "Father, if the information is correct, he seems to be twenty-eight years old this year."

"Twenty-eight years old—" The old man nodded slightly, his withered lips chewing on the number, his tone carrying an undisguised astonishment and apprehension: "At only twenty-eight years old, the aura he just released has already touched the threshold of the third-tier extreme realm."

Upon hearing this, both Rosselk and the butler behind him were taken aback, their pupils suddenly contracting.

Third-tier Extreme Realm!

What does this mean? It means that if Lund has enough opportunities and time to solidify his position at the third-tier extreme realm, wouldn't he be just one step away from becoming a legendary fourth-tier extraordinary being who can single-handedly form an army?

If he were to truly reach that level, let alone a small baronial family in the lower city, even the yellow-robed missionaries of the church would have to show him respect!

Thinking about this, both Rosselk and the butler felt a chill of fear.

If they had acted on impulse just now, even if the two of them joined forces, they might not have been able to gain the upper hand against this monster who had reached the threshold of the extreme realm. They might even have been seriously injured on the spot by his terrifying crimson spear.

Russell took a deep breath, forcibly suppressing the shock in his heart. He glanced at the strange scripture the old man had placed on the table, a hint of worry flashing in his eyes, and cautiously asked, "Father, you sit in this study every day studying this book, trying to find a breakthrough. Have you made any progress?"

The old man's withered fingers gently stroked the rough cover of the scripture, his hoarse voice revealing a deep sense of powerlessness and sorrow: "I occasionally have insights. Unfortunately, I am already old and frail, my energy and blood are failing, and this broken body can no longer withstand any greater power."

I have no further opportunity for a breakthrough.

He paused, his cloudy gaze fixed on the doorway, as if he could see through the wall to his wounded grandson: "Ross's talent is actually no less than mine back then. I will impart to him all the insights I've gained from the scriptures over the years without reservation."

We old bones are no longer useful. If the Ocelli family is to go further and wash away today's humiliation, it all depends on my grandson.

Upon hearing this, Russell and the butler nodded slightly, their hearts heavy.

The old man's body suddenly trembled violently. He closed his eyes in pain and covered his ears tightly with his withered hands.

After a long while, he opened his eyes again, his tone becoming incredibly calm, yet revealing a chilling tranquility: "Recently, when I sleep, I always feel some kind of eerie voice constantly speaking in my ear."

The voice seemed to come from the abyss, carrying an irresistible allure that made me dizzy and even gave me the urge to tear my flesh apart.

The old man looked at Rosellk: "Go to the market tomorrow and buy me some of the purest tranquilizing potion. If the potion doesn't work and can't suppress those voices—"

A bitter, desolate smile appeared on the old man's lips: "Then tie me up and send me to the church. I have no choice but to accept their control."

Hearing the old man so calmly make his final arrangements, both Rosselk and the butler felt deeply saddened and grieved.

This old man, who was like the pillar of the family, has finally come to this.

The path to the extraordinary is fraught with peril, the higher one climbs.

When one's Qi and blood decline and one's spirit weakens, once one's thoughts go astray and one is unable to resist the devouring words from the void, one will easily be devoured and dominated by the enormous and extraordinary power within one's body, and completely turn into a mutated monster that has lost its mind.

These extraordinary individuals, teetering on the brink of losing control, ultimately find themselves chained and imprisoned in dark, sunless dungeons by the church, subjected to what is called a "death-defying" treatment.

This is the cruelest and most real fate of the high-level extraordinary beings in this world.

Night fell completely over Saint Laurent City, and the rain gradually subsided, turning into a light drizzle.

A low-profile black sedan drove smoothly on the wet street.

In the back seat of the carriage, Xilun sat quietly to one side.

He closed his eyes slightly, channeling his magic to slowly heal the bruises on his arms from the collision.

Sitting on the other side, Lund had shed the domineering and imposing aura he had displayed in the manor.

He casually rested his chin on his hand, his gaze drifting through the car window to the streetlights flickering in the rainy night. He said in a relaxed tone, "Don't worry, after tonight's lesson, the Ocelli family will definitely not dare to openly lay a finger on you anytime soon."

Xilun opened his eyes and nodded earnestly: "Thank you, mentor."

Lund turned to look at Xiren, a hint of admiration flashing in his eyes: "You did well tonight. You didn't break down in the face of Ross's extreme pressure, and you even managed to fight back verbally."

However, you must also understand that your current strength is far from sufficient in the face of true masters.

Xiren recalled Ross's lightning-fast whip kick and nodded in deep agreement.

He knew that if it weren't for his abnormally strong physical defense, he would never have been able to walk out of that hall standing up today.

"In the time to come, you need to calm your mind and focus on consolidating your qi and blood and unarmed combat skills in the training room."

Lund casually gave the instructions, then lazily yawned, "Once you have fully mastered unarmed combat and pushed your physical potential to the limit, I will begin to teach you weapon-wielding martial arts."

Weaponized martial arts!

Upon hearing those four words, Xilun's eyes lit up.

The image of Lund holding a crimson spear with one hand and single-handedly suppressing two third-tier powerhouses in the hall instantly flashed into his mind.

While unarmed combat can improve physical fitness and close-quarters fighting, those who can truly dominate the battlefield and defeat enemies of higher ranks are always those who combine physical strength with weapons.

Siren listened quietly, engraving every word Lund said into his mind.

The young man, who seemed to be yawning casually, displayed absolute strength and a fierce determination to protect his own during tonight's storm, leaving an extremely deep impression on Xiren's usually closed and wary heart.

He watched the night view rushing past the car window, as if this night view had left a mark on his heart.

The black sedan glided smoothly through the rainy streets, its wheels splashing up puddles that were half a person high.

The carriage was filled with a faint smell of leather mixed with tobacco.

Siren leaned back in the soft seat, and with the slight swaying of the car, his tense nerves finally got a moment to breathe.

Before long, the car drove into a quiet neighborhood and finally stopped in front of a detached house with a huge garden.

The architectural style here is completely different from the crowded and dilapidated downtown area; every brick and stone exudes understated luxury.

As the car door opened, the silver-haired butler, who had been waiting on the steps, strode over with a huge black umbrella, shielding the two of them from the wind and rain.

"Master, you're back." The butler bowed slightly, his voice gentle and steady.

Lund nodded casually, strode into the brightly lit foyer, and casually ordered, "Arrange a room for him and treat his injuries."

After saying that, he didn't even take off his coat before heading straight up the spiral staircase to the second floor, his figure quickly disappearing around the corner of the corridor.

Siren stood on the thick wool carpet in the foyer, raindrops dripping from his trousers and quickly staining the expensive carpet with a small, dark patch.

He frowned slightly, instinctively wanting to take a half-step back.

"Don't worry about it, Mr. Celen. We'll just replace the carpet if it's dirty."

The butler seemed to notice his unease, smiled gently, and took the wet coat that Xilun had taken off, handing it to the maid beside him.

The butler's gaze swept quickly over Xilun, finally settling on his slightly unnaturally drooping hands.

Previously at Ocheri Manor, Siren withstood Ross's long-planned whip kick, which unleashed its ultimate power.

Although the terrifying defensive power of "Coiled Dragon" blocked the fatal injury, the force of the recoil still tore the skin and flesh of his forearm and the back of his hand, leaving several dark purple bruises with faint traces of blood seeping out.

"hiss-

—

Just as the butler gently lifted Xilun's wrist to examine it, Xilun couldn't help but let out a low cry of pain.

That seemingly gentle touch actually pulled at the deep muscle fibers, and a stinging pain, like being pricked by needles, instantly shot into the brain.

"Are you alright?" The butler frowned slightly, looking at the obvious wounds on Xilun's hands, a hint of surprise flashing in his eyes.

With his years of experience, he could naturally tell that the wound was caused by a terrible blow.

It's incredible that a young man who has only recently been baptized could withstand such an attack without breaking a bone.

Xilun glanced at his hands, took a deep breath, forcibly suppressed the piercing pain, and nodded slightly: "Okay, no bones are broken."

The butler turned around and took out a small glass bottle, about the size of a fingernail, from an exquisite mahogany storage cabinet next to the foyer.

The bottle contained a fine, dark red powder, and even through the glass, one could almost smell a faint, sweet, fishy odor, similar to the dried blood of some kind of ferocious beast.

"This is a healing item that the Knight used to frequently use on the battlefield; it's called Blood Healing Powder."

The butler uncorked the cork and carefully poured a little powder onto a clean gauze. "This stuff is incredibly effective for the torn muscles and damaged blood vessels of extraordinary individuals. Apply a generous amount."

It will sting a little when it first touches the wound, please bear with it.

Xilun stretched out his hands, and when the dark red powder touched the broken flesh, a burning pain suddenly erupted. Xilun's eyes twitched violently, and cold sweat instantly seeped out from his forehead.

But he gritted his teeth and didn't utter a sound.

Immediately afterwards, the burning sensation quickly transformed into a strange coolness, as if countless tiny ants were crawling on the wound, accompanied by a tingling sensation and the tightening feeling of the muscle fibers contracting rapidly.

He could clearly feel that the stagnant blood that had accumulated in his forearm was being rapidly dissolved, and the damaged cells were greedily consuming the energy in the powder.

"Such a powerful medicinal effect." Xilun was secretly shocked. This level of healing medicine is an absolute rare treasure on the market.

After applying the medicine, Xilun moved his fingers and found that his previously stiff joints had regained most of their flexibility.

He glanced at the direction Lund had disappeared on the second floor; the door to that room was tightly shut, and not a single ray of light was coming out.

"What's wrong, teacher?" Xilun asked.

As the butler tidied up the gauze, he smiled and said, "He's already rested, but at this time, the master is probably thinking."

"Think?" Xilun repeated the word thoughtfully.

For high-level extraordinary individuals, sleep time is often greatly compressed, and their way of restoring energy is completely different from that of ordinary people.

The butler explained, "His Excellency the Knight has a habit of focusing his attention and thinking about problems through meditation late at night."

This kind of meditation can not only calm the restless blood and qi in the body caused by the day's battles or training, but also temper one's mental strength.

Upon reaching the level of a third-tier aberrant individual, physical refinement has reached a bottleneck; the stabilization of one's mental will becomes paramount.

Xilun nodded slightly, secretly memorizing these valuable experiences.

"The rain outside is still falling, and it doesn't look like it's going to stop anytime soon."

Mr. Celen, how about staying here tonight? There are spare guest rooms on the estate, all of which have been cleaned.

The butler inquired, his tone conveying a thoughtfulness that left no room for refusal.

After a moment's thought, Xilun glanced at the torrential rain pouring down like a black curtain outside the window and nodded slightly in agreement.