Chapter Nine: The Guide

“There’s still a year for adjustment? Seems this training camp hasn’t entirely cut off all hope for newcomers after all,” Yin Seventeen remarked softly.

The boy took a bite of his bread and continued, “Generally, newcomers here almost always join the apprentice warrior circles from their own region.”

“After all, they’re from the same place, so it’s easy for new arrivals to blend in and find a suitable mentor among them.”

“Looking at your features and complexion, you seem to be Asian. Could you tell me exactly where you’re from?”

“The East!” Yin Seventeen replied with a smile.

“The East?”

The boy was taken aback for a moment, then shook his head. “That’s a bit tricky.”

“Why?” Yin Seventeen asked, puzzled.

The boy recalled slowly, “It’s said that on Mount Lushan’s Five Elder Peaks in the East, there lives a Gold Saint.”

“To better train his successors, he built a small training camp at the foot of the mountain.”

“However, he only accepts people from the East.”

“As a result, most of your compatriots went to the Five Elder Peaks to train, and it’s rare to see anyone from the East here in Sanctuary.”

“So that’s how it is!” Realization dawned on Yin Seventeen.

Without a doubt, the Gold Saint residing on the Five Elder Peaks was Libra Dohko—a survivor from the previous Holy War.

With such a mentor, Eastern compatriots truly had no need to come all the way to Sanctuary.

“Wait, you’re from the East and you didn’t know about this?” The boy suddenly looked at Yin Seventeen in surprise.

“How would I know?” Yin Seventeen chuckled, then added, “A Gold Saint living on the Five Elder Peaks is hardly public knowledge.”

“If the entire nation rushed to Lushan, what chaos would that cause?”

It was much like the location of Sanctuary itself. While everyone knew of the existence of the Greek Sanctuary, only a select few—perhaps national leaders—knew the entrance or how to get in.

This was to prevent masses of ordinary people from flooding in and causing trouble.

The apprentice warrior before him only knew such details because he lived in the Sanctuary’s training camp, constantly exposed to Sanctuary-related information. Ordinary people would never have the chance to hear of these things.

“No, that can’t be right!”

After listening to Yin Seventeen, the boy shook his head vigorously. “Your compatriots are all sent to the Five Elder Peaks by Eastern officials. Why would they send you to Sanctuary instead?”

Apprentice warriors in the training camp weren’t recruited directly by Sanctuary from the grassroots of each region; they were first selected by their own national authorities, then transferred here.

A newcomer from the East appearing in Sanctuary alone was highly unusual.

“Sorry, I wasn’t sent here by Eastern officials. Due to some special circumstances, a Saint happened to bring me here along the way,” Yin Seventeen explained with a smile.

“You were brought by a Saint?”

The boy thought for a moment and suddenly realized, “Oh—now I remember! I heard someone say earlier that Lord Moses of Cetus personally brought someone to the camp. That must’ve been you?”

“Yes.” Yin Seventeen nodded.

“You’re really lucky! To be personally escorted into the camp by Lord Moses!” The boy’s face was full of envy.

For apprentice warriors like them, except for the weekly lectures, they rarely had the chance to meet a real Saint. Of course, those lucky few chosen as disciples got to see Saints daily.

Those people were like children of Lady Luck herself.

“So, does that mean Lord Moses has taken an interest in you?” the boy asked again.

“No,” Yin Seventeen shook his head lightly, with a touch of ‘regret.’ “Lord Moses simply found me pitiful and homeless, so he brought me to the camp for shelter.”

“I see!” the boy finally understood.

“Since fate has brought us together, why not let you be my guide for this year’s training? After all, I don’t have any compatriots from the East here,” Yin Seventeen suggested.

Though the boy wasn’t very old, he was still several years older, and must have abundant training experience in the camp. When Moses brought Yin Seventeen to register, the manager mentioned that only children around ten were admitted here. Judging by age, the boy must have been training for at least five years.

Such a long period meant his experience would be rich, and, more importantly, he seemed easygoing—a genuinely good person.

“Me?”

The boy considered for a moment, then nodded. “Alright.”

“Perhaps I’ll leave Sanctuary next year,” he said. “If I can guide a junior onto the right path before I go, that will be my final contribution to Lady Athena.”

“Leave? Why would you leave?” Yin Seventeen asked in surprise.

“It’s related to the Cosmos,” the boy paused, then explained slowly, “Eighteen is the age of greatest vitality—a time when it’s easiest to awaken the sixth sense and ignite the Cosmos.”

“If you haven’t mastered the sixth sense and awakened your Cosmos by eighteen, your chances diminish rapidly.”

“Such people have no reason to remain in Sanctuary.”

“That’s also why Sanctuary recruits so many young people into the training camp every year.”

Only those apprentice warriors who had succeeded in igniting their Cosmos were eligible to stay past eighteen, to compete for the legendary Cloths and become true Saints.

“So that means you’re eighteen now?” Yin Seventeen exclaimed.

“Yes,” the boy nodded, “I’ve mastered the sixth sense, but I’ve never had the confidence to ignite my Cosmos. That’s why I’m still here.”

“Once I finish guiding you through your year of training, I’ll make my attempt.”

“Whatever the outcome, I want to try.”

With that, he shoved the remaining half of his bread into his mouth, as if that last piece was the fear holding him back—as if chewing and swallowing it would conquer his doubts.

“May Lady Athena bless you and help you ignite your Cosmos,” Yin Seventeen offered his sincere blessing.

Though they had only just met, he saw no reason to withhold his good wishes from someone who’d shown him kindness.

“Let’s hope so,” the boy replied, swallowing the bread with effort, still troubled at heart.

After all, bread was just bread; it couldn’t truly become the fear inside him and be chewed away.

“By the way, I still don’t know your name,” the boy asked, suddenly remembering.

“My name is Yin Seventeen. Just call me Seventeen. And you, senior?” Yin Seventeen replied with a smile.

“Call me Owen,” the boy answered, returning the smile.