"The main family rose to prominence four hundred years ago. The first ancestor, Han Chuan, was born in that era. He was known for his wisdom that transcended time. In that turbulent era, he predicted wars and the course of history time and time again, and finally established the Han family with unparalleled achievements."
Old Lin pointed to the first painting, which depicted a middle-aged man with a slightly chubby face and squinting eyes, exuding an air of nobility.
To be honest, if you don't know his true identity, it's hard to tell how great he is just by looking at his face.
“He does resemble Han Tun somewhat… no, it should be said that Han Tun resembles him. It seems that the guy is indeed a descendant of the Han family.” Huo Yang had a somewhat pointless thought.
Han Chuan's portrait hangs high above, below which are images of war and important meetings: a dark sky, raging flames, and tiny, roaring figures...
There is also an oil painting of a beautifully dressed noblewoman, the wife of the First Ancestor, who lived to the age of 107 and died of a sudden serious illness.
Although Han Chuzu did not have high magical talent and ultimately stopped at level three, he relied on some secret medicines to nourish his body and lived to the age of 176. He was buried in the spring of 243 years ago.
Next was Han Sizu, a gaunt-faced man, Han Chuan's great-grandson, who eventually became a level six mage...
"1 hour 26 minutes."
Huo Yang silently recited.
He followed the steward into a downward tunnel. Two level-five mages guarded the entrance, making it a heavily guarded place, clearly a treasure trove. Along the way, there were various traps and mechanisms, making it difficult even for the strongest level-six Morning Star mage on the continent to force his way in.
As soon as the gate opened, the dazzling gold and splendor dazzled Huo Yang.
"This is the family's treasure trove," Old Lin explained.
"Oh." Huo Yang hadn't recovered from the golden light he'd just seen, and he responded instinctively.
"Hmm? A treasure vault!"
The boy was startled. What was going on?
Do you think you can just let outsiders into a treasure vault like that? You must be joking!
Takayo Yu, even her friend who was the sacrifice is Takayo Yu... Does it have to be this high?
Wait a minute, Huo Yang, calm down and don't overthink it. They just brought me in to take a look, that's all.
"Since you've come, you're a guest." Old Lin held out his palms, displaying his treasures: "You can choose one as a gift to our guests."
Huo Yang: !!!
What the hell is this "guest" attitude? What the hell is this "greeting gift"?
Even if your Han family were to form a marriage alliance with a magic family of the same caliber, you wouldn't give away these kinds of things! You should say they wouldn't even be worth a tenth of their value, right?
Piled up in a corner, the gold, estimated to weigh over a hundred tons, was just the cheapest and least noteworthy item among them. There were also extremely pure magic crystals, legendary staffs and greatswords that had once appeared in history textbooks, and anti-magic armor made of blue-eye steel, which could hardly be touched by fire magic below level five...
These treasures represent the Han family's accumulated wealth over four hundred years, the foundation of one of the major families in this transcendent holy land. Perhaps this wealth is not much to them, but its significance is irreplaceable!
But this old butler, Old Lin, has the air of someone who thinks it's perfectly natural for guests to choose a gift.
Huo Yang didn't know if it was true or not, but he felt that the Han family's acting was too outrageous.
He glanced at the treasures and suddenly pointed to an antique book with a dark gold cover, saying, "Then I'll take this one."
A mocking smile curled at the corner of his lips.
It was a gold-grade magic book, an extremely valuable artifact, far superior to Huo Yang's own popular bronze-grade book, its value... comparable to a city.
Further up are the holy magic books, which are considered to be of the highest quality. Due to the lack of the main materials, their numbers have only decreased over the past ten thousand years.
But the value of this magic book is not the point; the point is the title on the cover, a name drawn stroke by stroke in crimson-gold light: Han Chuan.
Huo Yang may have forgotten his current situation, just like his brother's evaluation of him: "stupid, stubborn, hot-blooded idiot."
Even though he was in the enemy camp, he still relentlessly provoked the Han family.
The Han family is known for its reverence for ancestors and filial piety. Now you are directly asking them for something left behind by their most respected ancestor.
“Okay.” Old Lin stepped forward, bowed respectfully, gently picked up the magic book, and solemnly handed it to Huo Yang.
Huo Yang froze, lost his grip, and the magic book crashed to the ground with a "thud".
There was no dust; the place is cleaned every day, so you can hardly find a speck of dust.
Huo Yang quickly picked it up and held it in his arms. This was a priceless item, and he was afraid of dropping it and breaking it. It was definitely not another test of the Han family.
However, when he looked at Old Lin and the Han family guards behind him, he did not see any anger. Their expressions were a bit strange, but none of them showed any anger caused by the blasphemy.
They... agreed to give me the most revered First Ancestor's spellbook.
They... showed no anger whatsoever, unlike the legendary reverence for ancestors.
An absurd thought popped into Huo Yang's mind.
Could it be?
The Han family is cursed with punishment for disrespecting their ancestors, so Han Tun, who accidentally violated this rule, became the key to breaking the curse. That's why they treat Han Tun so well.
And they gave me Han Chuan's things without any burden. Could it be that the Han Chuan ancestor was the source of this "curse"? That's why the Han family members who have now realized the truth have that kind of expression.
This is just too, too, too outrageous!
"Time is almost up." Old Lin stopped, and Huo Yang behind him looked up: a dozen meters away was a dilapidated iron gate, rusty and covered in dust, which had not been opened for hundreds of years.
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