Chapter Six: The Chosen of the Gods

“Freyja, do you know about source power?” Ye Ran asked.

Freyja looked utterly confused and wrote on her drawing board, “Is it something to eat?”

“Uh…” Ye Ran weighed the little divine token in his pocket and said, “Isn’t source power a necessary condition to become a Divine Chosen? Why did you pick me as your Divine Chosen?”

Freyja continued to gaze at him blankly, as if she didn’t understand a word he was saying.

“I mean, why did you give me this divine token?”

Suddenly, Freyja seemed a little embarrassed. Covering her flat little stomach, she wrote on her board, “Hungry. There will be food.”

Ye Ran’s face twitched involuntarily. Damn, it felt like he’d fallen into a bottomless pit…

But wasn’t it obvious?

Back then, Ye Ran had been devout, praying every day, “If any god chooses me as their Divine Chosen, I’ll make offerings every day, never neglecting my duty.”

This little girl must have overheard something, which was why she handed him the divine token… in exchange for food.

Freyja tilted her head at him, as if pondering something.

Ye Ran could only sigh inwardly.

The gods were different from humans; much of their power was innate, needing no deliberate cultivation. As they grew, their strength naturally increased, and special abilities would gradually emerge.

Humans, by contrast, were born powerless and had to fight for every bit of strength through effort and perseverance.

Becoming a Divine Chosen was, in some ways, a remedy for this flaw. Through certain training or artifacts, a Divine Chosen could acquire a portion of a god’s power. In theory, someone with exceptional talent could learn all the abilities of a particular god, but so far, no one had achieved such a feat. In fact, not even a single person had managed to obtain even a demi-god’s abilities.

Nevertheless, countless people yearned to become Divine Chosen, for it meant gaining many skills out of thin air.

Furthermore, a god could guide their Divine Chosen to awaken their own source power, which was equally important.

As for the obligations after becoming a Divine Chosen, that depended on which god chose you. If it were someone straightforward like Thor, there would be little restriction—so long as you didn’t betray him, you were free to act as you pleased.

Thinking of this, Ye Ran sighed again. Becoming Freyja’s Divine Chosen meant he didn’t enjoy the usual advantages of a Divine Chosen.

What could he possibly learn from following Freyja?

Reading? Painting? Keeping silent? Or perhaps breaking a leg…

The more he thought about it, the more frustrated he became. Better to focus on diligently cultivating his meridian skill tree.

He placed his palm on the crystal orb to test his meridian skill tree. These magic crystal balls had been enchanted by mages and could reveal all the “qi” within one’s body.

Soon, an image appeared in the center of the crystal orb: tiny currents converged into shape, interlacing like branches, each stream connected to a central “trunk.”

Ye Ran opened “Origin of All Things” and “Meridian and Qi Mechanisms” to compare the diagrams.

His own qi was extremely weak, and, as expected, the central “trunk” was the “source power” he had long anticipated.

He studied the third chapter of “Origin of All Things” in detail, but something felt off.

“Source power is supposed to be at the root, not the trunk… but in this diagram… there doesn’t even seem to be a trunk…”

Though it was called a meridian skill tree, the shape of this “tree” in the human body differed from that of a real tree. The whole body contained streams of qi, and only when all these currents and the source power were combined did the meridian skill tree become complete. Thus, the tree looked elliptical, as if the roots had been pulled up and the trunk removed.

All the qi streams connected only to the source power.

Most people’s source power appeared as a sphere, but Ye Ran’s was clearly not.

He did possess source power, but he also had an extra “trunk”—a cylindrical main flow connected to the smaller streams.

Ye Ran compared every diagram of the meridian skill trees in the book and found none matched his.

What was going on? Was he some kind of freak?

He puzzled over it until noon without understanding his own skill tree. Even at lunch, his face was clouded with thought, and it took Freyja waving her drawing board several times before he came back to himself.

“I was just thinking, Freyja. Eat some more meat,” he said, giving her a piece of beef.

It was probably the best meal they’d had in days.

The money from Yunmeng was enough to cover his expenses for a while, but it was still far from enough for the exorbitant tuition at Redleaf Academy.

There was no way he could keep troubling Yunmeng with his tuition—she was only from a modestly well-off family, and Ye Ran had no wish to burden her further.

Should he join the Wild Wolf Guild and let Andoru pay his tuition?

First, he didn’t want to owe Andoru any favors, and second, he didn’t want to be constrained by the guild, whose rules were far stricter than those of the Divine Chosen.

He would not take that path unless he had no other choice.

That left only one option.

Become an adventurer’s porter in the underground labyrinths. Dangerous, yes, but the pay was far better than any odd job.

“Freyja, I have to go out this afternoon. Stay home and remember our code words.”

He never failed to remind her of their code every time he went out.

“I might not come back tonight. If you’re afraid of the dark, light a candle. Lock the windows. The money’s under your pillow—use it as you need.”

The doors and windows had all been custom-made for Ye Ran; their security was top-notch.

“Spending the night out isn’t good,” Freyja wrote on her board, her dark eyes fixed on Ye Ran, thoughts hidden behind their depths.

“You’re going to do something dangerous.”

Clearly, this little girl was no fool.

“I know what I’m doing,” Ye Ran replied.

After dinner, Freyja handed him the small divine token and wrote on her board, “Come back early. If you’re late, Freyja will starve to death.”

Ye Ran couldn’t help but laugh, ruffling her hair as he walked out the door.

No sooner had he left than he spotted a sneaky figure in the corridor—a thin, shifty-eyed man crouched at the third door on the left, peeking through the crack.

At the far end of the hall, another man kept watch.

Ye Ran had seen this sort of thing countless times. The pickpockets in the slums always targeted this building—one would scope out the place, the other kept watch. Whenever a family was out, they’d pick the locks and slip inside to steal.

Their success rate wasn’t low, but this time their luck had run out: just as they were casing the place, Ye Ran showed up.

His sudden appearance, and the fact that he knew them, caught the lookout off guard. The short man on lookout met Ye Ran’s eyes and, startled, forgot to warn his partner.

Ye Ran frowned. “Can’t you do honest work? Do you really plan to spend your life sneaking and stealing?”

“Ye… Brother Ye…” The short man forced a stiff smile.

He was about to flatter him when Ye Ran pulled a silver coin from his pocket and tossed it to them.

“If I catch you picking locks again, I won’t go easy on you. Hmph.”