It took Jin 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 muttered.

  Standing there, with the pouch hanging from his waist and the spear firmly secured on his back, he realized he was completely disoriented.

  Before him stretched a city.

  Not a simple improvised settlement, but a vibrant city built right at the base of the sect’s immense mountains. Tall walls, watchtowers, and reinforced gates defined its perimeter, while men and women bearing the sect’s emblems patrolled the streets with alert expressions.

  Guards.

  Powerful cultivators—at least by Jin’s standards—strong enough to maintain order and make it clear that this place was still under the sect’s authority.

  Jin began walking aimlessly, letting himself be carried along by the flow of people. The streets were filled with merchants, adventurers, wandering cultivators, and disciples like himself—some dressed in familiar robes, others wearing more practical, worn clothing.

  The noise was constant.

  Voices haggling, hurried footsteps, the metallic clink of weapons lightly striking armor. Compared to the near-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 concluded that he would probably have to walk to his destination. After all, with the little money he had left, spending more spirit stones seemed like a terrible idea.

  With that thought in mind, Jin stopped beside a disciple walking at his side—someone around his age, wearing a simple robe and sporting a relaxed expression.

  “Hey,” Jin said, “do you know how people usually get around from here?”

  The other disciple glanced at him sideways and offered a faint smile, as if the question were familiar.

  “If you’re going far, walking isn’t the best option,” he replied. “At the city’s north gate, you can hire a carriage or rent a horse. It’s not free, of course, but it saves you several days of travel.”

  Jin felt a small stab in his temple.

  More expenses.

  “The north gate…?” he repeated, committing the information to memory.

  “Yes,” the disciple nodded. “Just follow the main avenue. You can’t miss it.”

  After thanking him with a slight gesture, Jin separated 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.

  Jin spent the next few minutes talking to anyone who seemed even remotely informed. Guards stationed at intersections, attendants wearing the sect’s emblem on their chests, and even the occasional veteran disciple who had clearly ventured into the outside world more than once.

  He didn’t ask directly. Instead, he made casual remarks and observed reactions, piecing things together bit by bit.

  That was how he understood something important.

  To trade with mortals, spirit stones were not used.

  Copper, silver, and gold.

  That was the order. In a city this large, silver coins were the standard, and gold was reserved for major transactions. Spirit stones were something else entirely—a resource meant for cultivators… and for those who knew how to use them without attracting trouble.

  With that information in mind, Jin found himself standing before an exchange house.

  It wasn’t discreet. The building had a sturdy fa?ade guarded by two burly men, and inside it exuded a mix of cold calculation and opportunity. The process was quick—almost too quick.

  Five low-grade spirit stones.

  Sixty gold coins.

  When Jin stepped outside, the small leather pouch now weighing down his hand felt… strange.

  “I feel like I got scammed,” he muttered to himself.

  He didn’t know the true exchange value, nor how difficult it was to obtain a spirit stone in the mortal world, but his instincts screamed that those five stones were worth more than what he had just received. Still, he had no choice. Without mundane currency, he wouldn’t be able to move, eat, or hire transportation.

  He carefully stowed the pouch away and adjusted the spear on his back.

  With gold in hand and a clear destination, Jin began walking down the main avenue, following the directions he’d been given earlier.

  The crowd thinned as he approached the exit, until he finally saw them.

  The massive northern gates.

  Tall and solid, guarded by sect cultivators and mortal soldiers alike, they marked the boundary between the city’s relative safety… and the unknown stretching beyond.

  Without stopping, Jin headed toward them.

  He paused a few steps away, watching the comings and goings of carriages and riders.

  A carriage would be more comfortable. Safer, even. He wouldn’t have to worry about the weather, the terrain, or maintaining balance for hours. He could sit back, close his eyes, and let others handle the road.

  But…

  Jin frowned slightly.

  Traveling on horseback meant something else. Freedom. His own pace. The ability to stop whenever he wanted, to detour if something caught his attention… and, if he was being honest with himself, it sounded far more exciting.

  The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

  “Besides,” he thought, “what kind of cultivator doesn’t know how to ride a horse?”

  The truth was, he had never done it.

  In his previous life, he had only seen horses on television, in documentaries or historical dramas. Still, after a few more minutes of internal debate, the decision was made.

  A horse.

  He approached the rental area and, after exchanging a few words, found himself standing before a black horse with an elegant build. Its coat was glossy, its legs long and sturdy, and its dark eyes conveyed a calm, restrained demeanor.

  “Pureblood,” the old attendant said proudly as he accepted the coins.

  Five gold coins.

  Jin had no idea whether that was expensive or cheap… but frankly, he didn’t care.

  The old man adjusted the saddle with practiced movements and gave him some basic instructions. Jin listened attentively, 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, his balance wavered, but he quickly stabilized. Following the old man’s instructions, he lightly nudged with his feet.

  The horse responded immediately, moving forward at a calm, steady pace.

  Jin couldn’t help but smile faintly.

  Just as he was about to cross the gates, a voice stopped him.

  “Wait!”

  A guard approached and motioned for him to stop. Jin halted the horse as best he could while the man inspected his outer disciple insignia carefully. 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.

  Then, without looking back, he passed through the northern gates.

  Beyond them, the world opened before him.

  The dirt road stretched ahead like a pale scar cutting through gentle hills and open fields. The horse moved at a steady trot, and the wind struck Jin’s face, clearing his mind as it caused his robe to flutter lightly.

  It wasn’t unpleasant.

  In fact, he liked it.

  Holding the reins firmly, Jin let his thoughts drift to what came next.

  The mission.

  He clearly remembered the overly enthusiastic senior sister at the Contribution Hall, smiling as if she were gifting 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, based on Jin’s experience with such phrases.

  The request came from a merchant family in a small city. They had spent a considerable sum to send the request to the sect, which already spoke volumes about the severity of the situation. The problem was straightforward: bandits.

  Bandits who weren’t just stealing, but systematically sabotaging their trade caravans. Routes cut off, goods lost, businesses on the brink of collapse.

  So far, nothing unusual.

  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 let out a small sigh.

  To a mortal, someone at that level was no different from a monster. Ordinary guards, even well-trained ones, stood no chance.

  “So that’s why they turned to the sect,” he muttered.

  His fingers unconsciously tightened around the reins.

  A cultivator at the sixth level wasn’t 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.

  “Well then,” he thought, “that’s why I came.”

  To test himself. To measure how much he had grown over those eight months. To see whether all the pain, all the 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 advanced a fair distance across the sky when Jin decided to stop.

  He found a clearing beside the road, where a lone tree offered some shade. He dismounted smoothly, gave the horse a few gentle pats on the neck, and tied it to the trunk before letting it graze peacefully.

  Then he dropped unceremoniously to the ground.

  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 travel dissipate little by little.

  Lazy, almost carefree, he reached into his pouch and took out the map.

  He spread it out in front of him.

  His golden eyes traced the irregular lines, marked routes, and scattered city names. At first, his expression remained neutral… but as he calculated distances and compared them to his current position, his brow began to furrow.

  “…Huh.”

  He looked again. Then once more.

  He had underestimated the distances.

  According to the map, at his current pace, it would take at least four days to reach the small city. That was no small matter. After all, nearly every city—large or small—was located at some distance from the massive city at the base of the sect’s mountains, the one under the sect’s direct protection.

  And the city Jin was headed toward…

  Was especially far.

  Jin closed his eyes for a moment and let out a slow sigh.

  “Four days…” he murmured.

  It wasn’t a serious problem, but it was a clear reminder that the world outside the sect was far larger than it appeared from atop the floating mountains.

  Carefully folding the map, he took another bite of the dried meat while gazing up at the sky through the tree’s leaves.

  The journey had only just begun.

  After a few hours of rest, Jin stood up again.

  In truth, he wasn’t tired. Since entering the advanced stage of Qi Condensation, his physical endurance far surpassed that of an ordinary person. The rest had been more out of habit—and prudence—than genuine necessity.

  He untied the horse, gave it a light tap with his heels, and resumed the journey.

  The road stretched out before him once more.

  The first two days passed without incident.

  Too quiet, even.

  Jin traveled along dirt paths winding through gentle hills and open fields. More than once, he spotted small villages in the distance—modest clusters of wooden and mud houses, smoke rising from rooftops, peasants working the land without ever 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.

  It wasn’t huge, but it wasn’t small either.

  According to the map, it was a medium-sized city—an intermediate point between rural villages and the great city beneath the sect’s mountains. From afar, he could see stone walls, a few watchtowers, and the constant flow of people entering and leaving through the gates.

  Jin observed it for only a few moments.

  He had no intention of detouring.

  His mission lay farther ahead, and every day mattered.

  With a slight pull on the reins, he continued riding, leaving the city behind as the sun once again dipped toward the horizon.

  For now, the outside world seemed far too peaceful.

  The real problem came on the third day.

  The morning passed without incident. The sky was clear, the road quiet, and the rhythmic sound of the horse’s hooves accompanied Jin’s drifting thoughts. Nothing seemed out of place… until, near midday, something caught his attention.

  To his right, beyond the main road, stretched a relatively dense forest. Between the trees, Jin glimpsed a scene that made him instinctively rein in the horse.

  A carriage.

  It wasn’t especially luxurious, but it couldn’t be called poor either. It was built from a dark wood Jin didn’t recognize—solid and well-crafted, with metal reinforcements at the corners. The carriage was stopped abruptly on a forest path, tilted slightly to one side.

  One of the horses lay dead on the ground.

  The blood was still fresh.

  Around the carriage, several guards were desperately fighting off a pack of wolves. The beasts were larger than ordinary wolves, with glowing eyes and coordinated movements, attacking in waves and forcing the guards to retreat again and again.

  Inside the carriage, Jin could make out shadows moving nervously. The passengers remained hidden, not daring to step outside.

  Frowning slightly, Jin sharpened his gaze.

  Among the defenders, two figures stood out clearly.

  Cultivators.

  Although the distance prevented him from determining their exact level, even with their help, the situation didn’t look favorable. There were too many wolves, and fatigue was beginning to show in the guards’ movements.

  Jin hesitated.

  It was only a few seconds, but several thoughts crossed his mind at once: it wasn’t his mission, he didn’t know these people, intervening could bring unnecessary trouble…

  Then he saw one of the guards get knocked down, rolling across the ground as a wolf lunged toward him.

  Jin’s eyes hardened.

  “Tch…”

  Without thinking further, he struck the horse’s sides more firmly.

  The animal let out a sharp neigh and immediately surged forward, galloping at full speed toward the carriage and the chaos.

  The wind slammed into Jin’s face as the forest rushed closer.