My attributes are increasing infinitely Chapter 455: Ghost town

The illusory realm shattered as if a veil had been swiftly pulled aside.

Stars in the sky lost their glow. The hushed meadow faded away. Around Ethan and the elder, the tavern's timber walls pieced back together, acting like the strange event never occurred. Spilled containers restored to perfection. Hanging lamps glowed with even flames. Beyond the doors, the hill breeze picked up its usual soft sigh.

The elder now stood tall and firm, his weakness vanished. His spine aligned perfectly, exuding a controlled yet potent aura.

Ethan eyed him with steady composure.

"Elder, don't let this bother you," he spoke in a balanced voice. "I'm just a wanderer who likes pushing his limits against foes. Be well."

The elder's gaze tightened a bit. "You sought me out on purpose to stir trouble."

"I did."

Ethan held out his palm. A sword materialized there, crafted from silvery-white spirit metal and etched with overlapping symbols that gleamed softly. Though its energy was held back, true masters would spot it as an elite spirit artifact, strong enough to back a ruler's intent.

"Accept this as my regret," Ethan stated. "Your brew deserved much higher value."

The elder hesitated to grasp it right away. His stare fixed on Ethan's features, probing for sarcasm or concealed spite. None appeared.

"You're a rare sort of youth," the seasoned cultivator murmured softly.

"I've heard that before."

Ethan set the sword down on the bar and retreated a pace. His form flickered, then disappeared entirely, without causing the slightest stir in the surrounding space.

The elder stayed motionless for quite a while. At last, he picked up the sword and inspected it thoroughly. His face turned reflective.

"He baited me to attack first," he whispered to himself. "Yet he had no plan to end me."

He glanced at the entrance where Ethan had lingered seconds ago. The peak darkness seemed altered in a subtle way, like a tempest had swept by without unleashing its downpour.

—

Ethan strolled down a serene path outside Black Reed Town. Moonbeams stretched shadows over the farmlands. He kept his energy contained, his stance loose.

In his mind, the system panel throbbed lightly.

[Target framework captured.]

[Merging procedure started.]

He breathed out gradually.

"As Yumiko explained," he muttered quietly, "plenty of unbound immortals roam these earthly domains. A few match immortal lords in might. I'll face them all, one after another."

He halted briefly, sensing the initial pulses of fusing strength weave into his meridians.

"For now, I need the framework to stabilize first."

He pressed on with his steps.

Soon after, Yumiko's words echoed in his thoughts.

[Master, I'm picking up a hint of godlike essence roughly two thousand miles to the southeast.]

Ethan's eyes focused sharply.

"Godlike essence?"

[Indeed. The echo is weak yet untainted.]

He grinned just a touch. "Then we'll investigate."

He advanced with one stride.

The landscape smeared in his vision, yet space stayed undisturbed. No rifts formed. His frame simply surged ahead, driven by sheer velocity that warped the skyline before him.

The very next moment, he arrived at the rocky entrance of an unfamiliar settlement.

Strings of lamps dangled above. Tunes floated on the evening breeze. Chuckles bounced amid dwellings draped in crimson flags and flowing ribbons. Aromas of grilled flesh and fragrant liquor wafted along the lanes.

The whole place buzzed with festivity.

Ethan squinted his eyes.

"Hm."

His spirit sense stretched outward.

Under the lively noises and hues hid a chill void. Buildings stood firm, but their bases rang empty. The shapes bustling on the paths had outlines yet no spark of life.

"This place is a spectral settlement," he noted in a hushed tone.

All that met normal eyes was a facade draped over grudges and echoes of old.

"How intriguing."

He crossed the threshold.

As his boot met the cobblestones, an unseen wave rippled across the area. Every drifting soul felt his arrival via a common mark linking their essences.

A lady drew near him.

Her beauty struck sharply, clad in ritual robes of fine silk. Her grin shone warmly, her gaze sparkling with thrill.

"Sir," she uttered kindly, "would you stay the night in our village?"

"What's going on here?" Ethan inquired.

"It's the wedding day for the mayor's daughter today. Everyone's joining the feast."

Her voice held real delight. No lies swirled in her presence.

Ethan's look turned pensive.

[Yumiko.]

[Master, this marks the day of their doom. You're viewing a trapped slice of history.]

He inclined his head.

Songs swelled by the main plaza. A band of girls swirled in synced motions, their garments rippling like tides.

Ethan claimed a vacant bench close to the show. He observed without a word.

The melodies rang true. The chuckles flowed freely. For a short while, the village pulsed with real energy, not mere trickery.

Then the beat stumbled.

Hoofbeats rumbled from the north path.

Scores of horsemen charged into sight, faces hidden by masks, weapons at ready. Their arrival broke the peace like a knife slicing cloth.

Raiders.

The villagers halted in shock. Bewilderment crossed their expressions.

One rider leaped down fast. His frame showed faint animal marks, bands on his limbs and fangs peeking under his cover.

"Chief," he bellowed roughly, "look at all these fine blooms. I won't hold back."

He pounced at a girl and slammed her down.

Turmoil exploded.

Shrieks drowned the tunes. Folks charged with pitchforks and ritual blades. They fell like wheat. Skulls tumbled over paved ground. Crimson stained the festive drapes.

Ethan stayed put.

He viewed it all.

The brutality built with calculated savagery. The raiders dragged out the deaths. They ruined the village's honor prior to snuffing its spark. The mirage didn't hide the terror. It etched it in stark detail.

Within two hours, the joy twisted into slaughter.

The bride got hauled from her room. Her wails lingered even as her fight faded.

Once opposition ceased, the invaders wiped out the leftover souls without pause.

Afterward, they rode off.

Quiet descended.

But not every spark had died.

A few holdouts still drew air.

Ethan's chin clenched.

Another band arrived from the south route. Wayfarers. Mortals by garb and words.

They scanned the ruin with icy stares.

One chuckled uneasily.

Rather than help, they plunged into vice. The final remnants faced a grimmer end before oblivion took them.

The vision spared no detail.

As it broke apart at last, the lights winked out. Dwellings crumbled to gloom. The atmosphere grew heavy with icy grudge.

Laments surged from all sides.

"Why?"

"Why did we get forsaken?"

The settlement morphed into its real state. Phantoms swarmed the ways, faces warped by agony and wrath.

Ethan kept his position from the seat.

"Such deep grudge," he uttered gently. "No surprise you remain bound."

His sight shifted to the plaza's border.

Five shapes lingered separate from the rest. Three lads. A pair of ladies. One lady cradled an infant.

Ethan had felt the divine origin before. It emanated softly from that little one.

The raiders and wayfarers had vanished ages ago. The bloodshed was over. Still, the kept recollection fed the phantoms' ceaseless fury.

The five shapes stirred into action.

They loosed cultivation arts without delay, slashing the nearby wraiths. Their looks burned fierce, nearly wild, as though they aimed to wipe the past by shattering its echoes.

The infant stayed mute in the lady's hold, gaze alert and keen.

Ethan watched with keen focus.

"If I step in here," he pondered, "the harmony will tip."

Rather, he faded from view.

He materialized next to the lady with the infant.

She tensed at once. His coming had escaped her notice.

"Is this your boy?" Ethan queried evenly.

The lady's clasp grew firmer.

The infant directed his stare at Ethan.

For a split second, the space linking them grew dense.

Ethan bent forward a fraction.

"Greetings, offspring of the God Clan," he voiced lowly. "Care to talk?"

The boy's eyes held an unnatural calm for his young size.

"You're from beyond this world," the infant responded, his words even for such a tiny form.

"So are you," Ethan countered.

The lady's bewilderment grew. "What do you mean?"

The infant ignored her.

"Your power surged in mere days," the boy noted softly to Ethan. "The Tower has blessed you."

Ethan's face stayed neutral.

"You know of it then."

The infant's divine spark wavered lightly, a natural shield.

"I know plenty."

The nearby phantoms wailed, but stayed distant. An unseen strain isolated this spot from the surrounding frenzy.

Ethan examined the boy with sharp curiosity.

"You're gathering might from their grudges," he remarked. "Yet you won't release them."

The boy's stare turned steely.

"Liberty won't bring back the stolen."

"True," Ethan conceded. "But ceaseless killing won't either."

The five allies kept hacking wraiths with unyielding skill. Their moves flowed sharp and honed.

"You aim to reap them" Ethan stated.

The boy offered no denial.

Ethan rose to full height.

"I won't meddle in your way," he declared steadily. "But curiosity draws me."

"Curious about what?"

"Your limits."

The boy's divine light blazed stronger for an instant.

"You seek to test me?"

"Someday."

Ethan's mouth hinted at a smile.

"Today, I'll just watch."

He drew away.