CHAPTER 45: Why not?
Jin took several seconds to react when the small boat finally landed.
The levitation array shut down with a soft hum, and almost immediately the disciples began to disembark, one after another, scattering in different directions without ceremony.
“Eh…?” Jin murmured.
Standing there, with the bag hanging from his waist and the spear firmly secured on his back, he realized he was completely disoriented.
Before him stretched a city.
It was not some improvised settlement, but a vibrant urban center built right at the base of the sect’s immense mountains. High walls, watchtowers, and reinforced gates marked its perimeter, while men and women bearing the sect’s emblems patrolled the streets with attentive expressions—powerful cultivators, at least from Jin’s perspective, strong enough to maintain order and make it clear that this place still lay under the sect’s authority.
Jin began to walk aimlessly, letting himself be carried by the flow of people. The streets were filled with merchants, adventurers, wandering cultivators, and disciples like him—some dressed in familiar robes, others in more practical, worn clothing.
Voices haggling, hurried footsteps… compared to the almost solemn silence of the sect, this place felt… alive.
“So this is the outside world,” he thought, observing everything carefully.
For a brief moment, he came to the conclusion that he would have to walk to his destination. After all, with the money he had left, spending more spirit stones seemed like a terrible idea.
With that in mind, Jin stopped beside a disciple walking near him—someone his age, wearing simple robes and a relaxed expression.
“Hey,” Jin said, “do you know how people travel from this city to others?”
The other glanced at him and gave a faint smile, as if the question were familiar.
“If you’re going far, walking isn’t the best option,” he replied. “At the north gate of the city, you can hire a carriage or rent a horse. It’s not free, of course, but it’ll save you several days of travel.”
Jin felt a slight throb at his temple. “The north gate…?” he repeated, committing the information to memory.
“Yeah,” the disciple nodded. “Just follow the main avenue. You can’t miss it.”
After thanking him with a small gesture, Jin parted ways and continued moving through the crowd. As he walked, he couldn’t help but sigh.
The outside world was already welcoming him in the most honest way possible: confusion, noise… and the certainty that his spirit stones were in constant danger.
And he had only just stepped outside the sect. So, over the next few minutes, Jin spoke with anyone who seemed even slightly informed.
Guards stationed at intersections, even the occasional veteran disciple who had clearly ventured into the outside world more than once—Jin approached them without asking directly; instead, he made casual remarks and observed their reactions, piecing things together little by little.
That was how he came to understand something: when dealing with mortals, people did not use spirit stones, but copper, silver, and gold.
That was the order of things, and in a city as large as this one, silver coins were the norm, while gold was used for more significant transactions. Spirit stones were something else entirely—a resource reserved for cultivators… and for those who knew how to use them without attracting trouble.
With that in mind, Jin ended up in front of an exchange house.
It was not a discreet place. The building had a sturdy facade, guarded by two burly men, and inside lingered a faint sense of opportunism. The process was quick—almost too quick.
Five low-grade spirit stones were exchanged for sixty gold coins, and when Jin stepped outside, the small leather pouch now weighing in his hand felt… strange.
“I feel like I got scammed,” he muttered to himself.
He didn’t know the true value of the exchange, nor how difficult it was to obtain a spirit stone in the mortal world, but his instincts told him those five stones were worth more than what he had just received. Even so, he had no choice. Without mundane money, he wouldn’t be able to move, eat, or hire transportation.
He stored the pouch carefully and adjusted the spear on his back. With gold in his possession and a clear destination, Jin began walking along the main avenue, following the directions he had been given earlier.
The crowd grew thinner as he approached the outskirts, until he finally saw them—the massive northern gates.
Tall, solid, guarded by both cultivators and ordinary soldiers, they marked the boundary between the relative safety of the city… and the unknown that lay beyond.
Without hesitation, he headed toward them, but he couldn’t help pausing a few steps away, watching the flow of carriages and riders coming and going.
A carriage would be more comfortable—perhaps even safer. He wouldn’t have to worry about the weather, the terrain, or maintaining his balance for hours. He could sit, close his eyes, and let others handle the journey.
But… Jin frowned slightly.
Traveling on horseback meant something else: freedom, his own pace, the ability to stop whenever he wished, to take a detour if something caught his interest… and, if he was being honest with himself, it sounded far more exciting.
“Besides,” he thought, “what kind of cultivator doesn’t know how to ride a horse?” and the truth was… he had never done it.
In his previous life, he had only seen them on television, in documentaries or historical dramas. However, after a few more minutes of internal debate, the decision was made.
He approached the rental area and, after exchanging a few words, found himself in front of a black horse with an elegant bearing—its coat sleek and glossy, its legs long and sturdy, and its dark eyes carrying a quiet calm.
“Purebred,” the old caretaker said proudly as he accepted the five gold coins. Jin had no idea whether that was expensive or cheap… but honestly, he didn’t care.
The old man adjusted the saddle with practiced movements and gave him some basic instructions. Jin listened carefully, nodding again and again, memorizing every detail as if it were a cultivation technique.
With a small effort, he mounted the horse.
For an instant, he felt his balance waver, but he quickly stabilized himself. Following the old man’s instructions, he gave a light nudge with his feet.
The horse responded immediately, moving forward at a calm and steady pace, and Jin couldn’t help but form a faint smile. Just as he was about to pass through the gates, a voice stopped him.
“Wait!”
A guard approached and gestured for him to stop. Jin reined in the horse as best he could while the man inspected his outer disciple token with attention. After a few seconds, the guard nodded and stepped back.
“All clear,” he said. “Good luck on your journey.”
Jin inclined his head slightly in respect and, without looking back, crossed the northern gates, beyond which the world opened before him.
The dirt road stretched ahead like a pale scar between gentle hills and open fields. The horse moved at a steady trot, and the wind struck Jin’s face, clearing his mind and making his robe flutter lightly.
It wasn’t an unpleasant feeling—in fact, he liked it. As he kept a firm hold on the reins, Jin let his thoughts drift to what lay ahead.
He clearly remembered the overly enthusiastic senior sister from the Contribution Hall, smiling as if she were offering him a golden opportunity rather than potentially sending him to fight for his life.
“It’s simple, very simple,” she had said—far too simple, judging by Jin’s experience with such phrases.
The request came from a merchant family in a small city, one that had spent a considerable sum to send their plea to the sect, which already spoke volumes about the seriousness of the situation. Their problem was straightforward: bandits.
Bandits who didn’t just steal, but were systematically ruining their trade caravans—routes cut off, goods lost, businesses on the brink of collapse. Up to that point, nothing out of the ordinary.
The real problem was why they hadn’t turned to the city guards: one of those bandits… was at the sixth level of Qi Condensation.
Jin couldn’t help but let out a small sigh.
For a mortal, someone at that level was no different from a monster, and ordinary guards—even well-trained ones—stood no chance.
“So that’s why they turned to the sect,” he muttered to himself, his fingers unconsciously tightening around the reins.
A cultivator at the sixth level… was not someone he could underestimate. Jin was now at the seventh level, yes—but that didn’t mean victory was guaranteed, especially if that bandit had real experience killing, ambushing, and fighting without rules.
The horse climbed a gentle slope, and Jin lifted his gaze toward the horizon, letting out a nearly carefree thought.
“Well… that’s what I came for.”
To test himself, to measure how much he had grown in those eight months—to see if all the pain and beatings from senior sister Mei… had truly been worth it.
The wind struck his face again, and this time Jin smiled. The sun had already moved well across the sky when he decided to stop.
He found a clearing by the road, where a lone tree offered some shade. He dismounted in a smooth motion, gave the horse a few gentle pats on the neck, and tied it to the trunk before letting it graze peacefully.
Then he dropped to the ground without ceremony.
With his back against the warm earth and his arms relaxed, Jin took out a piece of dried meat he had bought from street vendors in the city. He chewed slowly, unhurried, letting the fatigue of the journey fade little by little.
Lazy, almost carefree, he slipped a hand into his bag and pulled out a map.
His golden eyes scanned the uneven lines, the marked routes, and the scattered names of cities. At first, his expression was neutral… but as he calculated distances and compared them to his current position, his brow began to furrow.
“…Huh.”
He looked again, and then once more, his gaze tightening as he realized he had truly underestimated the distances.
According to the map, at his current pace it would take him at least four days to reach that small city. That was no small matter, since nearly all cities—large or small—were located at some distance from the immense city at the base of the mountains.
And the city Jin was heading to… was particularly far. He closed his eyes for a moment before letting out a slow sigh.
“Four days…” he murmured.
It wasn’t a serious problem, but it was a clear reminder that the world beyond the sect was far larger than it seemed from atop the floating mountains.
Folding the map carefully, he took another bite of the dried meat while looking up at the sky through the tree’s leaves.
After several minutes of rest, Jin got back up.
In truth, he wasn’t tired. Since entering the advanced stage of Qi Condensation, his physical endurance far surpassed that of an ordinary person, so the break had been more out of habit—and prudence—than real necessity.
He untied the horse, mounted it smoothly, and with a light press of his heels, resumed his journey as the road stretched out before him once more.
The first two days passed without any incidents, almost too quietly.
Jin advanced along dirt paths that wound between gentle hills and open fields. In the distance, on more than one occasion, he spotted small villages, modest clusters of wooden and clay houses, with smoke rising from their rooftops and farmers working the land without even noticing his presence.
On one of those stretches, near the end of the second day, he caught sight of a walled city in the distance that was not enormous, but neither was it small.
According to the map, it was a medium-sized city, a midpoint between rural villages and the great city beneath the sect’s mountains. From afar, he could see the stone walls, a few watchtowers, and the constant flow of people entering and leaving through the gates.
Jin observed it only for a few moments, with no intention of deviating, as his mission lay farther away and every day counted.
With a slight pull on the reins, he continued riding, leaving the city behind as the sun once again began to tilt toward the horizon.
For now, the outside world seemed too peaceful, but the real problem arrived on the third day.
The morning had passed without issues, with a clear sky and a calm road while the rhythmic sound of the horse’s hooves accompanied Jin’s drifting thoughts, and nothing seemed out of place… until, near midday, something caught his attention.
To his right, beyond the main road, a relatively dense forest stretched out, and among the trees, Jin glimpsed a scene that made him instinctively rein in his horse.
A carriage that, without being particularly luxurious, could not be considered poor either, stood abruptly halted on the forest path, tilted slightly to one side.
One of the horses lay dead on the ground, its blood still fresh.
Around the carriage, several guards fought desperately against a pack of wolves that were larger than normal, with gleaming eyes and coordinated movements, attacking in waves and forcing them to retreat again and again.
Inside the carriage, Jin could make out shadows moving nervously. The people traveling within remained sheltered, not daring to come out.
Frowning slightly, Jin sharpened his gaze and, among the defenders, two figures stood out clearly; from what he could tell, they were cultivators.
Although the distance didn’t allow him to determine their exact level, even with their help, the situation did not seem favorable, as there were too many wolves and fatigue was beginning to show in the guards’ movements.
Jin hesitated; it was only for a few seconds, but several thoughts crossed his mind at once: it was not his mission, he did not know those people, and intervening could bring unnecessary trouble…
But then he saw one of the guards get knocked down, rolling across the ground as a wolf lunged at him.
Jin’s eyes hardened, and he let out a brief click of his tongue: “Tch…” before, without thinking any further, striking the horse’s sides harder.
The animal let out a sharp neigh, and immediately surged forward, galloping at full speed toward the carriage and the chaos.
As the forest drew closer, the wind lashed against Jin’s face, making it clear that the calm journey had come to an end.