Chapter 13: These Cultivators Are A Little Different
Relying on the apparent details, it wasn’t difficult to analyze what had just taken place.
The sword-riding cultivator had apprehended Han Xuhan at a speed beyond human response. Carrying Xuhan, he had jumped back on the flying sword. The outcome was now painted on the back of his robe.
He wasn’t sure if they had reached whatever destination the cultivator had in mind. The flying sword had crashed in the middle of a spacious mountaintop. Not too far away from where they had landed, a temple-like building was vaguely visible in the ever-present fog.
The atmosphere was quiet and serene, with no hint of the bustle of the flatlands reaching here. The only noise nearby was the cultivator’s groans of disgust.
Han Xuhan ignored the man and focused on his own well-being. The arrest hadn’t caused any other harm except the nausea induced by flying. A gentle breeze was circulating the mountains with unnatural smoothness, soothing his wrecked nerves.
As he struggled to stand straight, a woman wearing the same red uniform appeared from the direction of the temple. She was rather short, looking to be in her forties by mortal standards, the white streaks in her hair contributing significantly to her stern face.
"Elder Rong! Is that a mortal you’ve dragged along on your back? How many more times must you be warned? Do you want the sect master to resort to harsher penalties?"
Her roar was so powerful that it left a ringing sensation in Xuhan’s ears. His arrester, Elder Rong, looked at her with grieving eyes.
"I had to arrest him by law! And I wasn’t even flying that fast! Elder Cai, you know how hard it is to control a 250 kg flying sword. Once this guy started throwing up on me, I lost control of the acceleration. How is it my fault?"