Chapter 16: Atlas’s Answers(3)

As if expecting for something else to happen, the masked man continued standing there, arms crossed. Seeing no further differences around Qin, he froze for a second before expeditiously reaching for Qin wrist once again. This time, a thread-thin, light golden gas flowed into Qin's pulse.

The masked man instantly leaped up, his body shaking with excitement, flailing his arm in the air like a person who has just won a lottery.

He has never seen anyone with such talent for an extremely long time. Categorized from bronze, silver to gold, each category is divided into three portions — low, medium and high. Qin's talent was in none of the three. He was in the Titanium category. A category that has ceased to exist amongst mortals.

An average person usually has low to high bronze talent and could absorb only 1% to 5% of that much energy. Low to high silver talented people could take in 6% to 25% of the vibrant energy. Judging from Qin's capability to tank up three strikes from Auiak, especially the last punch, Qin would at least possess medium gold talent, or even high gold talent. If so, the pill would have been a profitable trade, unless of course, he guessed wrong.

After closer inspection, his prediction was incorrect. However, in a favorable sense. Having higher gold talent, he could drain a maximum of a whopping 60% of Aura within that pill. But in Qin's case, every single drop of Aura was completely absorbed, effectively strengthening the boy's bones and flesh.

"What a fluke discovery." His smile spread widely, plans wavering in his head. "I've found a wonderful disciple."

"Watch out!" Cora's shout cut off his thought. Auiak has recovered from the humiliating injury, now throwing rectangular unidentified objects at him while roaring in rage, trickles of blood running down the pattern of his scales.

The homely, gothic orphanage was now a coliseum. The air dyed in deadly sangria-red. The objects thrown demolished mid-air, leaving behind opaque smog. Within the smog, a myopic symbol of a rose illuminated, disappearing in the distance. The symbol on the back of Auiak's cloak.

Eternally imprinted in Qin's head, a simple yet complicated rose.

"Qin!" Eira was flailing in Cora's arms, being dragged towards elder Esther.

"Do not force the princess. Let her do whatever she wants to do."

"But..."

"Listen to my command. Try to remove all traces of Auiak's Aura, it might leave after effects."

Cora obeyed.

Eira returned into Qin's arms, while Esther sauntered towards the masked hero, a warm smile hanging from her cheeks.

"The masked hero? The name suits you. You were never the type of person who enjoyed publicity."

Thin snow silks forged into a transparent flower bud atop her palm. "Do you think this will be a good idea?"

With trembling arms, the masked man reached towards Esther's slightly wrinkled yet well-maintained cheeks, staring into her eyes. "It was flawed! It is flawed. It was only for twenty years."

"Yes, it is. The Lotus Seal isn't permanent," The masked man wanted to speak, but Esther shushed him. "Just wait a little longer. I've got two of the elders' support already. Age isn't a problem for us right now. All we need is more time. And if it all goes well, then..." The flower bud split into two.

"We can finally reunite."

Atlas noticed the masked man and the old lady's conversation, but the conversation had surprisingly no volume. All he could see were mouths moving.

The two lotus floated above Qin and Eira, melting like ice. The two kids drifted into sleep, and so did Atlas.

"Just another twenty years. From the looks on your face, that kid must be splendid. Maybe even more brilliant than you were."

"He certainly is. And he certainly will be."

Atlas saw light again. Frankly, he preferred the dark. It felt like waking up in the morning, the transition of light is a pain in the ass.

"Hey there kiddo." A face that couldn't be any more familiar appeared before his eyes. It was his perverted mentor.

"My name is Jay. I picked you up nearby a trash bin today."

[Really dude? You actually told the same exact line you said me to a person who could potentially be my senior?] Atlas sneaked peeks at the Kim Jong-il mask hanging on a thread by Jay's waist through the corner of Qin's vision. [When did he get that mask though? Is this the 1990s?]

Qin nodded blurringly. "Where am I?"

"You're new home." Jay stepped aside.

Blue sparkling vines surrounded a bijou wooden hut that sat in the heart of a grassy arena, about the size of a basketball court. It seemed like they were at a pretty high altitude, where he could touch and inhale the clouds. Well, not necessarily the type of cloud containing water. But more like a cloudy mist made of tasteless yet delicious air.

Atlas's jaw dropped. He was dumbfounded. This wasn't any hut. This was his hut!

"When I found you, you had a name tag. You are called Qin Skye. I think it has something to do with your pendant," His mentor gently pulled out a golden pendant that was tucked under Qin's shirt. Do you like that name?"

"No. That's so weird. I don't even know how to pronounce it."

"Well then. What name do you want to change to?"

Young Qin pouted his lips, studying the symbol on the pendant. "Qin is a dynasty right?"

"Yup."

"Ok then," Qin lifted his head up, chattering in exhilaration with his sweet voice. "It's a very cool name. Dynasty. I wanna be called Atlas Dynasty."