Volume One, Chapter Twelve: Legacy

In the year 2200 of the Old Calendar, natural disasters erupted across the globe with terrifying frequency. Various apocalyptic sects burgeoned and flourished, while nations scrambled to implement policies for resettling refugees. Yet none realized that the very foundation of this world was quietly shifting. Some substances began to mimic objective laws and develop self-awareness, while abstract rules—those forces binding and constraining—also started to materialize and take form. New types of creatures and materials appeared before humanity, as if a hidden treasure had been glimpsed, and for the sake of these novel resources, the world descended into turmoil and warfare.

In 2356, the first “Living Gold” emerged. This metallic being possessed a body simulating the neural systems of living organisms. Revered as a miracle, the “Living Metal” drew already strained nations into unending conflict, which persisted until the eve of the first cataclysm. Humanity was consumed by internal strife.

By 2499, the first cataclysm known as the “Metal Frenzy” erupted. Originating from Antarctica, an endless tide of metallic life swept across the continents. Alongside these disasters, human calamity struck: the Doomsday Cult rose abruptly, taking North America as its stronghold and fervently spreading apocalyptic doctrines. The tower of human civilization toppled. Amid the blood, fire, and bones that paved the ruins, the Old Calendar ended and the New Calendar began.

The “Metal Frenzy” destroyed many continents in just three months. Africa and South America, closest to Antarctica, suffered the most. As survivors braced for inevitable demise, most metallic beings suddenly converged and returned to Antarctica, vanishing as mysteriously as they had appeared.

In year 57 of the New Calendar, the second disaster, the “Elemental Storm,” emerged, swallowing all of Oceania. Elemental spirits appeared for the first time in history. That same year, the Doomsday Cult held a “Mass Sacrifice” ritual on the American continent. North and South America became desolate; coupled with previous devastation, they were no longer fit for habitation. The surviving population began migrating toward what was once Asia, now known as the Central Continent.

By year 359 of the New Calendar, the Elemental Storm, which had raged for three centuries, abruptly ceased. Vast energy erupted from the “Sea Eye,” spreading across the globe. Struggling amid upheaval and disaster, humanity finally took another evolutionary step forward. “Spiritual energy,” “special abilities,” “magic”—it was as if humanity, newly awakened, explored their fresh talents with childlike joy. But children playing with blades are easily wounded. Into the already fragile order, a new power system was violently introduced. Countless humans, intoxicated by this newfound force, greedily seized whatever they desired.

In year 362, the third man-made disaster broke out worldwide: “Superpower Cholera.”

The madness finally ceased completely in year 370. Human civilization, newly reconstituted, at last found an opportunity to breathe. The global population, compared to the glory days of the Old Calendar, was now less than a hundredth of its former size. The surviving nations and federations within the Central Continent established safe zones, providing shelter for those who endured the first 370 years of the New Calendar’s “Exploration Era.”

Today, it is New Calendar year 534. Though the outside world remains rife with strangeness and the unknown, at least every safe zone city possesses enough strength to defend itself. Even ordinary humans without awakened abilities can survive.

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“The power of the individual can raze cities and shake mountains; common folk have enough to eat and live, and children your age no longer have to face death each day. This, above all, is the greatest achievement earned by our ancestors over the past century of struggle. Once, there were those who pressed forward through disaster, who spoke out amidst the rabble, all so the ember of human civilization could be passed on. We cannot record every martyr’s name, but we must remember that today’s stability was won with their blood and tears.” As the tour guide’s speech drew to a close, her voice grew solemn and reverent.

“Once, our forebears paved the road; now, you move forward, and in the future, you will pass the torch. All things past are preserved here, begun anew in the present. To let you know what the old world was like, who laid the foundation for our present, and what calamities befell this world... that is the purpose of the Archive Pavilion.”

Outside the Archive Pavilion, the sun blazed high, autumn winds began to stir, and the chill in the air could not cool the fervor burning in the hearts of the young students.

Squinting up at the brilliant sun overhead, Mo De finally grasped the meaning of that man’s words. Even though he had heard the man recount them in person, even though he had skimmed that history in textbooks, this visit to the Archive Pavilion still stirred his thoughts far more deeply than those of his peers.

The vast, tragic, and heroic past surged up from yellowed pages, raced past, and left only awe behind.

...

It wasn’t until after lunch that the somber mood began to dissipate. Old Qiao, the homeroom teacher, brought new tidings to the group of students still immersed in the atmosphere of the Archive Pavilion.

“I’ll check once more—has anyone decided to withdraw from the Autumn Hunt at the last minute?” Peering over thick glasses, Qiao Yuanshan surveyed the group of still somewhat solemn-faced students. “Very well, I confirm that no one is dropping out.”

“This afternoon is free time, rest well tonight, and tomorrow morning gather at six sharp. We depart for the Autumn Hunt prep base.” Watching the sixteen- and seventeen-year-olds before him, seeing their faces regain vitality and their characteristic youthful excitement, Old Qiao couldn’t help but smile a little himself.

“But—” He paused deliberately, waiting for all eyes to turn to him, then continued, “In a while, I and the other homeroom teachers will head to the Autumn Hunt base ahead of you to prepare. From today, everyone in Class 20 will follow the class leader’s arrangements.” He handed a booklet to Su Ziwen.

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“You are all about to come of age, and so you must learn responsibility and accountability. I trust that the Archive Pavilion visit has already changed you somewhat, but in the upcoming Autumn Hunt, there will be no teachers accompanying you. You must learn to act independently and judge for yourselves, but always remember: teamwork is the fastest route to solving problems.”

“Ziwen, the booklet contains tomorrow’s schedule and all details about the Autumn Hunt. Choose someone to lead the group with you.”

“Alright, Teacher Qiao. I recommend Mo De as my co-leader.” Su Ziwen adjusted his glasses, speaking naturally.

“Good. Su Ziwen, leader for Class 20, Tianshui High School, second year, Autumn Hunt. Mo De as deputy. Total members: forty-one.” Without so much as glancing at Mo De for his opinion, Old Qiao swiftly filled in the attendance sheet, then left without a backward glance.

“I’ll come back for you when the Autumn Hunt ends. By then, I expect every last one of you to return safe and sound—got that?!”

“Yes, sir!” “What the heck?!” The collective shout drowned out Mo De’s belated cry of protest.

Turning his head, Su Ziwen saw Mo De standing bewildered amid the celebrating crowd. Su Ziwen raised the booklet to cover his lips, yet a mischievous grin flickered in his eyes.

“Su Ziwen, you set me up!” Mo De’s impotent rage, swept up in the tide of congratulatory high-fives, stirred not a ripple.