Return of the Mythic Bloodline-Chapter 307: Who gave the scar to Stormir?
"Uncle Stormir," Taranis called, moving closer to him. "You aren’t enjoying the feast?"
"Haha, look at you, worrying about your uncle," Stormir chuckled, sitting at the edge with his legs hanging freely.
Taranis followed and sat beside him before continuing, "You don’t seem happy, Uncle. Is something troubling you?"
Without answering Taranis’s question, Stormir drew out a long-necked white jade bottle from his ring, took a few gulps, and tossed it toward Taranis.
"Drink with your uncle, Taranis," Stormir said, his gaze fixed on something distant.
"Despite my looks, I’m only five years old, Uncle," Taranis chuckled, handing the bottle back. "Besides, Nymeria is also here. If she finds out I drank, I don’t know if you’ll find me in one piece tomorrow."
Stormir merely laughed at Taranis’s words—ridiculous as they sounded—yet he knew there was no jest in his voice.
After taking a few more gulps, Stormir finally spoke, his voice low. "I will be leaving tomorrow."
"We all are," Taranis replied. "I’m so excited to return home. Oh right! There are still six months remaining before my exile ends."
The bright smile faded from Taranis’s face, his eyes lowering as he continued, "Do I really have to stay here for six more months?"
"Hahaha! Don’t worry about it. You’ve earned enough credits from this war that your punishment can be lifted instantly, just by making a simple request, even officially as a prince rather than Voltrex’s son."
"Oh really?!" Taranis exclaimed, resting his hands behind his head. "Then I’ll make the request as soon as the feast ends! Uncle, once we return, you must teach me that barrier skill you used in the war in detail."
"I am not going back to the Hundred Sky Mountains," Stormir revealed, his voice low as he prepared himself for the exclamations and questions he expected from Taranis.
To his surprise, Taranis gave none of those reactions. Letting out a sigh, he said, "So my hunch was correct. You want to begin your journey again now that the war with the demons has ended."
Stormir’s eyes widened in shock at how spot-on Taranis was. He hadn’t expected him to become this sharp and mature already.
"You are right, son," Stormir replied a moment later, a faint smile of excitement tugging at his lips at the thought of resuming the journey that had been halted for thirty long years.
"Uncle, I’ve always wanted to ask this question but decided not to, since it was rather personal. But now that you’re leaving, I don’t want to hold back my curiosity."
"You want to ask who gave me this scar," Stormir said, his finger brushing against the terrible diagonal mark across his face.
Surprised by how easily Stormir read him, Taranis nodded immediately. "I can’t imagine anyone except Father being strong enough to leave a scar of this scale on your face. But knowing Father, he would rather lose everything than raise his sword against you."
"You are indeed correct. Your father wasn’t the one who gave me this scar."
A smile filled with longing appeared on Stormir’s face as he gently brushed the mark, as though it weren’t a scar at all, but a memento left behind by someone he held dear.
"The world is vast, Taranis. The Western Continent isn’t even ten percent of what this endless world holds. Just like the Western Continent, every landmass is separated by the Abyssal Sea—an endless ocean that forms a natural array no cultivator can fly across. The waves of the Abyssal Sea are merciless, making travel by ship nearly impossible. Even for Demi-Gods like me and your father, there’s no certainty that we could cross it safely."
"Whoah!!! I didn’t know any of that!" Taranis gasped, his eyes gleaming with excitement at this revelation about the world he lived in.
With a soft chuckle, Stormir continued.
"Forty years ago, after traveling every corner of the Western Continent, except the demon territory and the Forest of Gumiho, I risked everything and expanded my journey beyond its boundaries. Haha... the decision was certainly foolish, and I would never recommend anyone attempt such recklessness. Perhaps it was Heaven’s favor that I survived the merciless waves and reached the shore alive."
His gaze turned distant.
"It was a completely different world from the Western Continent. Their buildings, their culture, even their people, everything was different from us. Even the Soulforce in that land was far purer and denser than what exists here."
After a brief pause, Stormir revealed, "It was the Southern Continent, ruled by the Golden Sol Empire. But what surprised me the most was that the Emperor of that continent was neither human nor beast. He was a demon. And not just any demon, but a Primordial Demon who had lived for over two thousand years."
The revelation sent jolts of shock through Taranis’s entire body. For a moment, his mouth remained parted in disbelief.
"A... a Primordial Demon!?" Taranis gasped. "But a demon of that realm shouldn’t even exist in this world!"
Though still young, Taranis knew that cultivators who reached the High-Tier realm eventually ascended to the upper layer of Vyoman—a world accessible only to those capable of wielding divine Soulforce, even if the amount was minimal. If Voltrex weren’t bound to the throne, he would have already departed for the upper world in search of purer Soulforce and greater opportunities to break through to higher realms.
For a Primordial Demon to remain in the lower layer of Vyoman was both shocking and baffling, it offered no benefit to a cultivator of such a realm. 𝑓𝘳𝑒𝑒𝓌𝘦𝘣𝘯ℴ𝑣𝘦𝑙.𝘤𝑜𝑚
"Haha, I had the same reaction as you," Stormir laughed. "Yet the demons of the Southern Continent were completely different from those of Vorthrael. They were neither aggressive nor corrupted. On the contrary, they were even kinder than humans."
He continued, "I wanted to meet that Primordial Demon, to see what a cultivator standing at the zenith of power that the heavens could offer, truly looked like. But I never got the chance. I was stopped by another person before I could even set foot inside his castle."
Stormir’s fingers brushed the scar again.
"She was also the one who gave me this scar."
A faint smile appeared on his face as he went on. "She was a Level Four Sacred Beast, and the first cultivator who ever defeated me. Not just once. We clashed countless times, and I was, quite embarrassingly, defeated again and again."
Despite recounting something that should have been deeply humiliating, or at least filled with resentment toward the beast woman who blocked his path, Stormir showed none of that. Instead, he seemed lighter, almost relieved, as though sharing the story with Taranis had unburdened him.
"Uncle Stormir," Taranis asked, raising an eyebrow, "are you leaving because of that beast lady?"
Stormir flinched at the sudden question, his reaction giving him away entirely.
A playful smile tugged at Taranis’s lips as he pressed further. "Uncle... is she going to become my aunt?"
For the first time ever, Stormir’s face flushed a deep crimson as he burst into loud laughter, trying to hide his flustered expression.
After a few moments, once he had regained his composure, he spoke again, his voice low.
"She is known as the Daughter of the God in the Golden Sol Empire. And judging by her battle prowess and beauty, I don’t believe that title is exaggerated in the slightest."
He paused before adding, "Moreover, she has already rejected my offer to travel with me. She said she has been waiting for someone for a thousand years, and that she would continue to wait, even if it takes another thousand more."
