Mystic Calling：Stone of Glory

Chapter 1163: The Price of Cooperation

Ethan took a slow breath, forcing the irritation down.

Ghastly white lightning surged out of him as he lifted straight into the air. The spatial rift had only just opened—figures inside still hadn’t fully stepped through—when a massive energy sphere was already forming in Ethan’s palm.

Inside it, ghastly white lightning compressed together with the leftover aura from the silver-white gemstone...and a thin thread of dark ghost-blue patterning.

Ethan didn’t ask who they were.

He simply threw it.

The sphere became a heavy streak of light and blasted straight into the rift. The edges of the tear expanded on the spot, the surrounding space caving like it had been struck by a sledgehammer—revealing a gaping rupture.

The figures inside didn’t even get time to react.

They were crushed into meat by the impact.

A spray of blood mist burst outward through the tear, only to be shredded and scattered by the spatial turbulence.

"Don’t attack!"

An old, urgent voice rang out from deep inside the rift.

"We’re not here to fight—we’re here to discuss cooperation!"

A second energy sphere had already finished forming in Ethan’s palm. He paused mid-motion only because of that shout, not because he trusted it.

He stared coldly at the rift as a hunched old man slowly stepped out.

The old man moved carefully, almost painfully slow.

He looked small and withered, back bent, one hand gripping an ancient cane. But the power rolling off him was thick—nothing like his fragile appearance suggested.

With every step, a faint ring of energy patterns appeared under his feet, like the world itself was propping him up.

Ethan’s gaze snapped to the old man’s forehead.

A blood-red gemstone was embedded there.

It wasn’t big, but it was impossible to miss. Inside it, a strand of Primordial Force flowed with eerie stability—like a compressed piece of a world’s origin.

Every time the old man breathed, the blood-red gem pulsed softly, echoing in tiny ripples with the power between heaven and earth.

So the old bastard wasn’t simple either.

Ethan watched him, voice flat. "Cooperate with us?"

The old man nodded fast, the tension on his face still not fully gone. He glanced at the rift edge Ethan had just blown open, then jerked his eyes away like even looking too long might be taken as provocation.

"Yes—cooperate. Absolutely cooperate."

As he spoke, he pulled out a large chunk of golden stone and offered it with both hands.

The moment it appeared, the air subtly shifted. Energy from the mine responded, drifting toward it as if drawn by a magnet.

Ethan took it. The instant his fingertips touched the surface, he felt the strong Primordial Force sealed inside.

Seeing Ethan hadn’t immediately attacked again, the old man’s words sped up.

"This world has all kinds of mineral resources. Every kind of energy can support a small empire. That’s why so many nations have splintered off."

As he talked, the blood-red gemstone on his forehead kept flickering, like it was syncing with his emotions.

"But these nations can’t tolerate each other. They fight constantly. Every so often, war breaks out—mines change hands, city-states are destroyed, races migrate. It’s happened too many times."

He lifted his head, forcing a solemn weight into his expression.

"My goal is to bring all these small countries into one great nation—end the internal consumption of this world."

Then he bowed slightly to Ethan, voice turning grand and generous.

"I wonder if your Emerald Castle is willing to help me?"

It was a pretty speech.

If it were someone else, they might’ve been fooled by the old man’s "sincerity" and "idealism." He’d come bearing resources, opened with cooperation, and framed world unification as a noble cause to end war.

But Ethan just looked at him, and the corner of his mouth slowly lifted.

Nice plan.

Use Emerald Castle as the blade to cut down every small power in this world. Once the enemies were gone, he’d rely on his local knowledge—who held what, where the resources were—to take the biggest slice for himself.

In other words...

He wanted Emerald Castle to conquer the world for him.

Ethan let out a quiet chuckle and took a step back, turning the golden ore over in his fingers.

The Primordial Force inside was even purer than he’d expected. This wasn’t ordinary vein energy—this was a high-tier resource that could be extracted directly, refined, and made to resonate with the world’s origin.

For an Emerald Castle camp that had only just been established, ore like this was priceless.

Ethan didn’t hesitate.

Ghastly white lightning seeped from his palm into the golden stone, tearing open its internal energy structure by force.

Golden light surged up his hand and into his body, merging with his power for a brief moment. The ore’s surface dulled rapidly as the Primordial Force inside was drained clean.

The old man’s eyelid twitched.

That chunk had been meant as a bargaining chip, proof of sincerity—and Ethan hadn’t even offered a single polite word before sucking it dry.

In the next instant, Ethan was already in front of him.

One hand clamped around the old man’s throat.

The old man went rigid. The blood-red gemstone in his forehead flared, trying to mobilize the surrounding power to protect him—

But ghastly white lightning coiled along Ethan’s fingers and tightened around the old man’s neck, crushing the connection between that blood-red gem and the local Primordial Force.

A muffled grunt broke from the old man’s throat as his body was forced to bend lower.

Ethan stared into his eyes, voice perfectly flat.

"What you want to do has nothing to do with me."

His fingers tightened slightly.

"But you’re going to tell us where this kind of ore is produced."

The old man’s breathing turned tight. He grabbed at Ethan’s wrist with both hands, but he couldn’t pry it loose.

Ethan continued, tone unchanged. "Call it your ’cooperation.’ Your sincerity."

The pain on the old man’s face was quickly replaced by a spark of excitement.

He wasn’t angry about being choked—if anything, he looked like he’d finally found the crack he needed to keep negotiating. As long as Ethan cared about the ore, it meant Emerald Castle was still willing to listen.

That was a lot better than getting killed on the spot.

The old man hurriedly fumbled a folded map from inside his robe and snapped it open in front of Ethan. Once unfolded, it was packed with markings—mountain ranges, mining zones, city-states, and several complicated "energy rivers" mapped like glowing arteries.

With a trembling finger, he pointed to a spot on the map.

"Honestly, the location of this mine is very obvious—right here."

He tried to keep his voice steady, but it still shook.

"If you’re willing... we can take you there right now."