Uncle Shadow’s tone was indifferent: “Whether human or god, all possess desire. The preface to ‘The Clergy’s Handbook’—‘The clergy has never deceived the devotion of believers with empty and false doctrines. The gods walk the earth, guiding faith toward the true direction.’ Legend has it that the ancient gods built the world and created the races. Creating life is the domain of the gods, but our existence has trespassed upon this taboo. Humans have achieved the feats of gods; when humanity can create species, the gods who are worshipped lose their supremacy. So from the moment of our birth, we have stood in opposition to the gods, in opposition to ‘faith.’ Our ancestors understood this and secluded themselves in this bitterly cold land, otherwise we would have long ago been wiped out by divine decree, with the gods commanding their followers to exterminate our kind.”

Owen Clark frowned and said, “The gods are that domineering?”

“If gods were not domineering, why would people fear them?”

Uncle Shadow dispelled his transformation, donned a black robe, and spread his arms. “To us, the entire world is our enemy.”

Isn’t such a simplistic and brutal worldview a problem? Owen Clark was speechless.

“For a race to avoid enslavement, it must first believe itself to be noble. We carry tainted blood, but possess an infinite future.”

Uncle Shadow looked at Owen Clark. “That is my answer to you.”

Owen Clark grinned. “Are you trying to forcibly shape my worldview?” If I didn’t stick to dialectical materialism, I might have really been brainwashed by you.

Uncle Shadow nodded. “This is my teaching to you.”

Owen Clark felt a bit tired from standing and sat down cross-legged. “So if I become stronger than you, does that mean I can treat everything you just said as nonsense?”

Uncle Shadow stared at Owen Clark for a while, then let out a hoarse laugh.

“That’s fine too.”

===Chapter 9: Intolerable Bullying===

Witnessing the manifestation of a deity, a materialist’s heart wavers.

After descending the mountain, Uncle Shadow said, “Owen Clark, you are not suited to the path of the assassin.”

Owen Clark nodded. “Rather than lurking in the shadows, I prefer to smash people head-on with a hammer.”

“Then I can only teach you some simple and practical things.” Uncle Shadow drew the beast bone dagger from Owen Clark’s waist. “The dagger is my specialty. I’ll teach you a combat technique.”

Owen Clark was taken aback. “Not a combat style?”

“Just a single technique, but this technique will serve you for a long time.”

Uncle Shadow casually thrust the dagger. The move seemed very simple and not fast, but strangely, Owen Clark couldn’t see the path of the attack at all. It made Owen Clark think of frame skipping—there was no process at all.

“This technique is called ‘Instant Thrust.’ Whether for assassination or close combat, Instant Thrust is a sure-kill move. Its trajectory is undetectable. It looks simple, but it consumes a lot of stamina. With your current physical strength, you can use it at most three times before exhaustion.”

Uncle Shadow carefully explained the trick to Owen Clark. Instant Thrust is a technique without a style. There are many such techniques, but they are very extreme—either very weak or very strong. Instant Thrust is the latter.

Although Instant Thrust appears simple, the ways to channel force and the stabbing trajectories have thousands of combinations. The more skilled you are, the greater the power you can unleash. This single technique is almost equivalent to a whole combat style—extremely profound.

The most terrifying aspect of Instant Thrust is its difficulty to defend against. Even though Owen Clark is not an assassin, if he suddenly uses it in close combat, it can still be a sure-kill move. However, it consumes a lot of stamina and can only be used as a finishing blow.

“I’ve told you the method. Practice well on your own. I have nothing more to teach you.” After passing on the technique, Uncle Shadow left alone.

“Uncle Shadow really is... repressed.” Owen Clark thought for a long time. He had thought Uncle Shadow was a silent and cold assassin, but it turned out he was actually a cynic at heart... or maybe a ‘cynical middle-aged man,’ or even an ‘old cynic’—who knows how old he really is.

Uncle Shadow was gone, and his own foundational training was over. Owen Clark felt a bit excited. These past four years had been hellish, and he could finally go home and rest.

Back at the tribe, as his strength increased, Owen Clark’s perspective gradually changed. He hadn’t noticed before, but now he saw that almost every tribe member’s every movement was filled with a sense of power—they were all very strong.

“Clearly everyone is powerful, yet forced to live in seclusion. Everyone must feel stifled.” Owen Clark thought to himself.

His ambitions weren’t high, and his thinking was simple. In Owen Clark’s view, strength is like money—just enough is fine.

Demacia scoffed at Owen Clark’s view. Strength is endless; as long as you’re not the strongest, it’s never enough.

When he got home, he found the house noisy. Owen Clark’s expression changed and he hurried inside.

“Henry, you must apologize to me and compensate me!”

Henry looked grim. The burly Berman was grabbing Henry by the collar and cursing him out, while Berman’s child Chad was clutching his hand and glaring angrily at Henry.

Owen Clark calmly asked, “What’s going on?”

“Kid, your father burned my child,” Berman shouted angrily. “If you don’t apologize and compensate today, don’t even think about leaving this house!”

Owen Clark squatted down and reached out to touch Chad’s head, but the brat dodged and glared at Owen Clark in anger. He still hadn’t forgotten the humiliation of being spanked by Owen Clark two years ago.