Chapter 187: Identity
Since time could be influenced by external forces—accelerated, reversed, or paused—it meant its form could be changed through external intervention.
Lost in thought, Lynn proceeded with the transformation ritual at Xiao Ye's urging, shedding his wizard longrobe until only his close-fitting undergarments remained.
The silver bloodline essence formed a thin membrane over his skin.
It felt like a coat of wax that gradually melted and merged completely with Lynn.
Thick black mist permeated the air.
As the smoke slowly dispersed, the once-delicate youth had changed dramatically. Two silver-gray wolf ears now sat atop his head, and his eyes were mismatched in color. His entire body radiated an untamed, exotic beauty.
His most striking feature was that pair of red and blue pupils as he casually scanned the room.
"Yo, not bad. You still look pretty refined," Xiao Ye remarked with satisfaction.
Lynn walked over to a nearby rack, retrieved his wizard robe, and draped it over his shoulders.
"Your clothes are ready."
Xiao Ye produced two sets of garments. A single glance revealed they were clearly not made by a wizard, covered as they were in numerous patches.
"Did you kill that half-wolf?"
Lynn accepted the clothes and pulled them on.
"No. The original plan was actually to manipulate the young half-wolf and find an opportunity for him to fetch the Bow of the Elves."
"But we didn't expect a ferocious bear to kill him while he was hunting on the mountain. Your bloodline essence was extracted from his corpse."
"So this is the only portion we have."
Once dressed, Lynn glanced at Xiao Ye.
"Let's go. The sooner we set off, the sooner we return."
Lynn's lips curled into a slight smile, revealing two grain-sized white canines.
With a casual shove, he vaulted onto a nearby boulder. The vantage point offered a clear view of the village nestled at the foot of the mountain.
Come to think of it, nearly a month had passed since he arrived.
He spent his days hunting on the mountain—a cover to find a quiet spot and review the data uploaded to his consciousness—and his nights in the small wooden cabin, studying knowledge related to the Biological Wizard Tower.
His current identity, naturally, was not fabricated out of thin air.
The body he was mimicking had belonged to a real person: Jess, the youth who originally possessed this bloodline.
Jess had looked exactly as Lynn did now and had been ostracized by the villagers.
During his childhood, his father had died in a hunting accident on the mountain.
That left the solitary youth to struggle bitterly on his own until, during another hunt, a magical beast bit him to death.
However, his body was never found, and the youth who had vanished for several days "luckily" returned from the mountains.
Lynn had simply inherited his identity.
'In a week, the Orc Empire's envoys will arrive to recruit qualified youths of the right age for the Military Academy,' Lynn thought, his gaze profound.
With wars constantly breaking out, the young orcs of suitable age and aptitude in the major cities of the Orc Empire had essentially all been conscripted into the Military Academies.
However, as the scale of the conflict escalated, the demand for soldiers grew ever higher.
Consequently, recruiters were now visiting even remote regions that had previously been ignored.
Those with sufficient talent would be selected and sent to the academies.
To become new cannon fodder.
On a path winding through the distant mountains, a dozen figures were making their way forward.
Leading the group was a potbellied, large-eared pig-folk, followed by a dozen Bear-folk Clan guards.
Even these Bear-folk Clan guards, standing nearly three meters tall, appeared rather diminutive beside this pig-folk.
Their heights were comparable, but the real disparity lay in their massive horizontal bulk.
The leading pig-folk looked like a solid wall with his round head, round belly, and round eyes. A smile perpetually lingered at the corners of his mouth, making him look exceptionally easygoing.
"Lord Ford, why on earth are we coming deep into the mountains to recruit? What kind of geniuses could possibly exist in these small villages and tribes?"
Beside the pig-folk walked a tiny female fox-folk.
She sported red fur, pointed ears, and a large, fluffy tail.
"Hahaha, that's how it used to be. But in recent years, the empire has recruited far too many soldiers. How could those large tribes possibly have enough qualified seeds left of the right age?" the pig-folk chuckled good-naturedly, his tone casual.
"While these small tribes don't have large individual populations, there are a lot of them. Together, they can always fill the quota."
With that, the pig-folk crossed his arms over his chest and declared, "Everything is for the great empire!"
"Everything is for the great empire!" the Bear-folk Clan guards behind him chanted in unison.
The fox-folk flicked her tail. She couldn't shake the feeling that things weren't nearly that simple.
According to her grandfather, Uncle Ford was an extremely shrewd fellow, and rumor had it he was even one of the King's confidants.
Why would he go out of his way to visit such an isolated place?
The little fox-folk simply swished her tail; she would definitely find the flaw in his facade.
Since Uncle Ford was unwilling to say, the clever Mo Er would just have to find out for herself!
The group entered the village. Among their ranks were also two half-grown orc youths.
Because the orc race possessed high fertility, numerous tribes of varying sizes were scattered across every corner of the Orc Empire.
Not all orcs enjoyed living in cities.
"Are all the qualified orcs in your village gathered here?"
"Yes, my lord," the village chief replied.
The wolf-folk youth standing off to the side looked as though he wanted to say something.
He hesitated, but ultimately kept his mouth shut.
Ford noticed his expression. "Then let's begin the test."
Pig-folk were a rather unique group within the Orc Empire because of their intelligence.
Alongside fox-folk and jackal-folk, they were known as one of the three major intellectual think tanks of the orc race.
The fair-skinned, towering pig-folk instructed his Bear-folk Clan subordinates to take a Crystal Ball out of their packs, along with a Battle Axe.
They had the villagers carry over two large stones and placed the Battle Axe atop one of them.
"This time, we are primarily searching for children with magical talent. After all, on the battlefield, an Orc Shaman can play a far greater role than an orc warrior."
Among the orcs, transcendent professionals capable of casting magic were known as Orc Shamans.
Pleasant surprise lit up the faces of the black wolf-folk. Could their village actually have a glimmer of hope of producing a great Orc Shaman?
However, becoming an Orc Shaman was no easy feat. The last time a shaman had been born in their village was a very long time ago—back before their tribe had even migrated to this location.
"Cut your hand open, then sprinkle your blood onto the axe."
Hearing the pig-folk's command, a half-grown wolf cub stepped forward and nervously sliced his palm open with a dagger.
As the blood from his wounded hand dripped onto the axe, its surface emitted a faint, dim glow.
Most of the light, however, remained lackluster.
Inwardly disappointed, the pig-folk kept his expression neutral.
Mo Er flicked her tail. With such faint light, any random little orc grabbed from the city would possess better aptitude than this.
Were these people really worth coming all this way for?
Mo Er felt a touch of disappointment.
Talent like this was a dime a dozen in the city.
The probability of wolf-folk with mediocre talent producing an offspring with superior talent was incredibly low.
An orc's talent generally derived from both parents.
If both parents possessed good talent, the child's talent would be good.
If the talent of both parents was lacking, it became very difficult for their child to manifest high talent.
That was not to say it was entirely impossible, merely that the odds were much smaller.
The internal atmosphere of the Orc Empire was defined by the law of the jungle.
Powerful orcs seized the better resources, and the orcs in these remote regions were essentially the rejects discarded by the empire.
The young orcs lined up, continuously undergoing the talent test one by one.
When one of the orcs sprinkled his blood onto the axe, a faint silver light rippled across its surface!
"Oh? Not bad," the pig-folk remarked.
Mo Er glanced over, deciding it was nothing special.
It was merely somewhat superior to the previous ones.
This Battle Axe was a treasured artifact handed down from the War God Hall of the orc race, capable of testing an orc's combat talent.
Depending on the quality, talent was divided into four distinct tiers:
Cyan, Silver Grade, Gold, and Red.
The vast majority of orcs belonged to the Cyan tier; upwards of 98 percent of all orcs had their talent capped at this level.
Even within the Cyan tier, there were variances in strength. The dim cyan glow seen moments earlier proved that their talent sat at the absolute bottom of the barrel, even within the Cyan grade.
This Silver Grade talent was also merely a very pale shade of silver.
A deeply saturated silver radiance might have implied genuine potential, whereas Gold talent already belonged to the category of true geniuses among the orc race.
Only genuine prodigies could manifest that color.
Beyond Gold lay Red; Red talent was an absolute rarity, existing in only sparse numbers across the entire Orc Empire.
"This youth with Silver Grade talent can come with us."
The pig-folk pointed at the youth with Silver Grade talent, entirely ignoring all the other wolf-folk.
At this sight, envy flickered across the faces of many wolf-folk.
A murderous gleam flashed in the eyes of a few others, though they quickly reined it in, remembering that this youth with Silver Grade talent was none other than the village chief's son.
"This Crystal Ball tests shamanic talent. Just place your hand on it," the pig-folk said, pointing to the sphere nearby.
"If your battle-qi talent won't do, you can test your shamanic talent instead. After all, not everyone is suited for the warrior path, and becoming a shaman might prove to be a fine alternative."
Of course, such words were purely meant as encouragement.
Becoming a shaman was heavily tied to one's lineage, and wolf-folk inherently struggled to produce shamans.
"Sorry I'm late," a youth's voice rang out.
Hearing it, Mo Er, who had been idly kicking stones out of boredom, twitched her ears, glanced over casually, and froze.
So handsome!
Even viewed through the hypercritical aesthetic standards of the fox-folk, this youth was exceptionally handsome!
Mo Er's eyes darted around as she calculated; even if his talent was lacking, his looks alone were more than enough!
If she brought a face like that back to the big city, plenty of wealthy matriarchs would gladly snap him up.
Her mind was already turning gears.
"My lord, he is not a member of our village," the nearby village chief chimed in quickly upon seeing this.
They had no desire to let Lynn test his talent. After all, they had bullied Jess mercilessly. When Jess's parents had first arrived in the village, they had brought along a considerable amount of wealth.
During their interactions, these villagers had even plotted against Jess's parents behind their backs.
Furthermore, starving Jess of food afterward had been entirely intentional on their part.
Jess's parents were descendants of Mongulas. Mongulas had once been an epic hero, leaving behind a substantial heritage.
Yet over the years, as the Mongulas Family declined, they had grown increasingly destitute.
By the time of Jess's parents' generation, they had no choice but to sell off their family assets and flee into the mountains.
The ancestors of these mountain wolf-folk had once been followers of Mongulas. Believing they were all fellow wolf-folk and would be shown some respect, they never imagined the villagers harbored malicious ambitions, directly conspiring against Jess's parents and eventually driving Jess himself to an early grave.
By withholding food from a lone youth living halfway up the mountain, what other choice did he have besides hunting outside? But for a youth of ordinary strength facing the vicious beasts of the mountains, could he really survive every single time?
Now that Jess had an opportunity to rise, these wolf-folk naturally refused to grant it—not even a sliver of a chance.
"Place your hand on it." The pig-folk studied Lynn's face, deep in thought.
Such distinctive dual-colored pupils felt strangely familiar.
Within the orc race, lineage mattered immensely.
Bloodline was regarded as a form of inheritance.
Consequently, the inheritances of powerful orc bloodlines almost always carried distinct peculiarities.