The Sovereign Chronicles novel Chapter 4

Kaelen sat on the stone stool studying The Genesis Mantra for the entire night. Rather than feeling exhausted, his spirit and vitality were at an all-time high. The Genesis Mantra allowed him to absorb the Essence of Vitality from the world, healing his injuries, replenishing his blood, and keeping him in a state of peak vigor.

When Kaelen first studied the initial verse of The Genesis Mantra, it had taken him a full three years. The time span was massive—firstly, because he was simply too young and lacked knowledge, and secondly, because he had zero understanding of this specific type of energy channeling, meaning he had to figure everything out blindly. This time, studying the second verse went significantly smoother. He had already gained some insights after just one night. Kaelen was confident that within half a year, or perhaps even less, he would completely decipher it and flawlessly fuse the first and second verses of The Genesis Mantra.-

The Old Man had retreated into the warehouse to sleep at some unknown point. Only Kaelen and that solitary grave remained in the courtyard.

Kaelen was in excellent spirits, having completely swept away the gloom of being rejected by Elder Cyra. He prepared breakfast for the old man, stuffed a piece of bread into his own mouth, and walked over to the corner of the courtyard for his daily physical conditioning. With a single heave, he lifted a two-meter-tall stone vat, holding it steady above his head. Every muscle in his body tightened to the limit, his physique honed to absolute perfection.

This stone vat was what he used to carry sundries.

His job every morning was to deliver requested supplies to various locations across The Azure Sky Sanctum. In the very beginning, he used a wooden wheelbarrow, making trip after trip back and forth. Later, he switched to a meter-tall wooden barrel, tossing the items inside and carrying it on his back. Two years ago, he swapped that out for this stone vat. He would load all the daily deliveries into it and carry it directly over his head.

The outside of the stone vat was lined with iron spikes, giving it a base weight of three hundred pounds. Once loaded with the day's deliveries, it weighed at least five hundred pounds, sometimes pushing seven or eight hundred pounds on heavy days.

Bare-chested, Kaelen marched around the courtyard, holding the massive stone vat high above his head. His lean, explosive musculature, terrifying raw power, and unyielding endurance had been forged precisely through this grueling, day-in-and-day-out training.

Turn hardship into a trial. This was the mantra Kaelen repeated to himself every single day.

"Kaelen, you in?" A shrill, grating voice pierced through from outside. A pale, overweight man stood beyond the iron gates. He looked incredibly arrogant, deliberately tilting his head back to stare down his nose.

His name was Steward Fargo. He was an Overseer in The Azure Sky Sanctum, responsible for managing half the Servitors and assigning them their daily tasks.

Kaelen ignored him completely, continuing his workout with the stone vat.

"Are you deaf, you little rat? I'm talking to you..." Fargo screeched at the top of his lungs.

BOOM! Kaelen slammed the stone vat onto the ground, causing the entire warehouse courtyard to tremble.

Fargo violently flinched, his voice instantly choking off like a duck grabbed by the throat. He stood frozen at the iron gate, not daring to step an inch further.

Kaelen wiped the sweat from his forehead. "Something you need?"

Fargo stared at the multi-hundred-pound stone vat, a wave of fear washing over him. Yet he maintained his tyrannical expression as he waved the manifest in his hand. "These are today's deliveries."

"You usually just staple it to the door. What brings you here in person today?"

"Heh! You little Thrall, I'm doing you a favor by walking in here..." The moment Fargo met Kaelen's glare, his confidence shattered, and his blustering quickly devolved into incoherent mumbling. He genuinely didn't dare act tough around Kaelen, or he would catch a beating. He had been beaten by Kaelen plenty of times in the past. In this wild kid's eyes, the concept of a status hierarchy simply did not exist.

"Hand it over." Kaelen walked over, snatched the manifest, and scanned it. "This many locations?"

Fargo sneered. "Didn't you reach The Spirit Warrior Tier? You even had the guts to attack Elder Cyra. Is a few extra deliveries too much for you?"

"Some of the places on here aren't in my jurisdiction."

"I decide what's in your jurisdiction and what isn't. The capable do more work. From today onward, your delivery locations are tripled."

Kaelen glared at him coldly, flicking the manifest in his hand.

"What are you doing? If you dare hit me again, I'll assign you every delivery in the entire Sanctum! I'll work you to death! What... what are you looking at? Stop looking at me! Kaelen, don't do anything stupid, it's just a few extra pounds of cargo..." Seeing Kaelen step forward, Fargo scrambled backward in sheer panic. When Kaelen was just ten years old, he had chased Fargo all over the mountain to beat him up. Since then, he beat Fargo at least twice a year. The harsher you punished him, the harder he hit. The kid was practically made of iron and wasn't afraid of the consequences. Thinking about it, Kaelen hadn't beaten him yet this year. Fargo had severe trauma.

"Just picking up a rock. Don't piss yourself." Kaelen picked up a stone from the ground and casually tossed it into the stone vat.

Fargo was flushed with humiliation and rage. "Hurry up and pack your things! Get delivering! Let me warn you, even if you eventually reach The Mystic Warrior Tier, you're still a Servitor. You'll be delivering cargo every single day of your life."

"Don't be too arrogant, Fargo. You will be an Overseer forever, but I won't be a Servitor forever." Kaelen hauled a bucket of well water, went into the warehouse, washed himself off, and changed into clean, neat clothes.

Even though he was a Servitor, he was also a noble—the heir to The Stormhold Citadel.

His clothes didn't need to be extravagant; they just needed to be clean. It didn't matter how much he suffered, as long as he kept a smile on his face.

Regardless of whether others looked down on him, he first had to respect himself.

This was an attitude toward life, and it was also Kaelen's attitude toward Martial Arts.

Outside, Fargo rolled his eyes furiously. Stop acting so grand! You'll be a lowly Servitor for the rest of your miserable life.

Kaelen loaded all the requested materials and quantities listed on the manifest into the stone vat one by one. But as he glanced back at Fargo, who was standing by the iron gates with his chin still raised arrogantly, Kaelen frowned. He walked back inside the warehouse, tucked a few extra items into his waist sash, and finally stepped out.

The stone vat was packed to the brim with various supplies. Between the vat itself and the cargo, it easily weighed eight hundred pounds.

Kaelen grabbed the handles, let out a low grunt, and hoisted the massive vat directly over his head, balancing it perfectly on his hands.

Fargo sharply inhaled at the sight, cursing Kaelen as a freak in his mind. "Hurry up! Stop dawdling! If you're late, I'll make you walk out and crawl back."

Kaelen carried the stone vat out of the warehouse. Eight hundred pounds was a significant burden for Kaelen, but he persisted with his overhead carries every day, doing his best to keep his footsteps steady and his breathing smooth.

Fargo was secretly envious but openly mocked him: "Look at you acting so tough. What's the point of having brute strength? For a true powerhouse, Martial Arts and realm are the only things that matter. What a pity you'll never have access to either in this lifetime. The best you can hope for is to mess around in The Spirit Warrior Tier. Don't even dream about reaching a higher level."

Suddenly, the stone vat in Kaelen's hands tilted dangerously, looking as if it were about to crash right down onto Fargo's head.

Fargo shrieked in mortal terror, stumbling and crawling frantically to get out of the way.

Kaelen effortlessly righted the stone vat and strode past him without a second glance.

"You... you bastard!" Fargo ground his teeth in fury.

The Azure Sky Sanctum was nestled deep within The Veilwood Forest. With a legacy spanning a thousand years, the Sanctum was massive, occupying over thirty large mountains and boasting an Initiate count of eight thousand. It housed countless elite powerhouses. It was a renowned mega-faction in the region and a holy land for martial practitioners within a radius of hundreds of miles.

Every two years, The Azure Sky Sanctum held public recruitments. During that time, tens of thousands of people would gather at the base of the mountain, doing everything in their power to get their children admitted to practice Martial Arts and condense Aether. Just completing The Spirit Forging Realm and stepping into The Spirit Warrior Tier was enough to make any parent immensely proud. If a child was lucky enough to become an Adept, or even the Prime Initiate of an Elder, it was as if their ancestors' graves were smoking with divine blessings.

Kaelen held the stone vat aloft, marching boldly through The Azure Sky Sanctum. Every heavy footstep caused the stone stairs beneath him to tremble slightly. The sight of him was absolutely the most eye-catching thing in the Sanctum at dawn. Even though many disciples were long used to it, his appearance always drew attention.

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