Walking along the official road for five or six miles, one could still see lively villages along the way, fields stretching one after another, and from time to time, farmers working in the fields.

But going a bit farther, there were stretches of overgrown, abandoned fields, ruined and uninhabited villages. On the road, apart from merchant caravans escorted by bodyguards, there were only groups of refugees with sallow faces and thin bodies; it was rare to see anyone traveling alone.

After walking another four or five miles, William Carter turned off the official road onto a path leading to Xiaolong Mountain.

These paths, having been unused for a long time, were now overgrown with weeds and thorns, making them quite difficult to traverse. Moreover, such hilly wilderness was often infested with bandits.

Fortunately, William Carter had trained in martial arts, was agile, and acted alone, making him highly mobile. Strangely enough, ever since his rebirth, his senses had become extraordinarily sharp—almost preternaturally so—and he was extremely sensitive to changes in the surrounding atmosphere.

Thus, along the way, William Carter proceeded with great caution, allowing him to spot several bandit ambushes in advance and avoid the danger of being robbed.

After more than two hours, William Carter arrived at Xiaolong Mountain without incident.

Even before truly reaching Xiaolong Mountain, William Carter caught a whiff of a chilling mountain breeze carrying an extremely foul odor, reminiscent of rotting flesh.

When he finally arrived at Xiaolong Mountain and saw the scene before him, William Carter's heart involuntarily raced, and he felt a chill run down his spine.

He saw that several peaks of Xiaolong Mountain had collapsed, with rocks tumbling down the slopes and foothills. Some boulders, as large as houses, had been split cleanly in two, the fracture surfaces smooth as if sliced by an unimaginably sharp giant sword.

Moreover, all over Xiaolong Mountain, there were decaying substances emitting the stench of rotting flesh and oozing yellow liquid, making one feel utterly nauseated.

Wherever these decaying substances and yellow liquid had flowed, all vegetation had withered and lost its vitality.

Staring at the scene before him, images from William Carter's dreams involuntarily surfaced in his mind: the two giant swords, the old, ugly man, and the monstrous bird beneath him suddenly exploding, flesh and blood flying everywhere. His whole body couldn't help but tremble.

"It's real! Everything in my dream is actually real! How... how is this possible? I was clearly reborn into William Carter's body, so how could I be connected to that old man?"

Trembling inside, William Carter instinctively looked around.

Soon, William Carter's heart jolted again, his eyes fixed on a ruined Taoist temple at the foot of the distant mountain.

A plaque hung askew above the temple gate, inscribed with the words "Chixiao Temple."

William Carter swallowed hard, forced himself to suppress his shock, and carefully avoided the disgusting substances on the ground that oozed yellow liquid and reeked of rotting flesh, quickly arriving in front of Chixiao Temple.

Just as his mother had said, Chixiao Temple had long since fallen into ruin. Several sections of the temple walls had collapsed, the interior was covered in dust, and cobwebs hung everywhere.

There was nothing remarkable about the temple itself; William Carter quickly passed through the main hall and entered the backyard.

Sure enough, there was an ancient well in the backyard.

William Carter hurried to the well, leaned over, and peered inside.

There was water in the well, with some dead leaves floating on the surface, making it impossible to see what lay at the bottom. Yet, inexplicably, as William Carter looked down, he seemed to sense that something very familiar to him was beckoning from the depths.

Without pausing to ponder why, after confirming that the well rope was still sturdy, William Carter immediately used it to lower himself down.

Since the dream was real, it stood to reason that the old man, who could ride a monstrous bird through the sky and was hunted by two flying swords, must have been an extraordinary master—whether he or his pursuers.

After all, at least in the county city, William Carter had never heard of anyone who could kill with a flying sword; that was already the stuff of legendary sword immortals.

Therefore, the ring on that old man's finger was certainly no ordinary object.

Given William Carter's current family situation and his innate talent, if he wanted to have the ability to protect himself in these troubled times, that ring was his greatest hope.

Descending into the well and following his heart's guidance, William Carter soon spotted the ring wedged in a crack in the stone wall.

As for the severed finger, it was impossible to tell where in the well it had fallen.

William Carter reached into the crack and pried out the ring.

The moment the ring fell into his palm, William Carter felt a sense of deep familiarity, as if it were part of his own flesh and blood. At the same time, his mind seemed to be suddenly triggered, and a flood of chaotic images surged in.

These chaotic images were almost all extremely bloody, sinister, and terrifying, with the old man from his nightmares as the common protagonist.

The images grew more numerous and more chaotic.

William Carter's head throbbed with pain. He gritted his teeth against the sensation of his skull about to explode, quickly climbed out of the well, and then collapsed unconscious beside it.

No one knew how much time had passed before William Carter regained consciousness.

His eyes were still dark and clear, but deep within that darkness, there now flickered a hint of wisdom born of hardship, a penetrating insight into the ways of the world, as well as cunning, evil, and ruthless coldness.