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Chapter 62 - High Class Travel
🕑 Added 2024-11-01 04:48:07 +0000 UTC89nd of Season of Air, 57th year of the 32nd cycle
Elder Frostgrave led the way for about a mile away from Thunder Ridge until the party reached a ramp leading to a stone viaduct. The elevated road was around eighty feet wide and stood twenty feet above ground.
Newt had seen nothing like it, and once they climbed it, the road seemed to span indefinitely towards the horizon.
“This is a highway.” Elder Frostgrave said. “A cultivator-only road for those who travel without mounts. Anyone can enter at their own peril, but the fault with any and all accidents lies with the weaker party. By climbing aboard, you are stating you can take care of yourself and those you bring along. If your speed, perception, and reflexes aren’t up to the task, you have only yourself to blame.”
Elder Frostgrave pointed to the path paved with golden bricks. “The two leftmost lanes are for the ninth realm cultivators, the next two,” she gestured towards the silver lanes, “are for the eighth realm cultivators…”
She went through all the lanes, until she reached the final two paved in ordinary, red brick. “These are for the cultivators of the fifth realm and below. Like I said, everyone can enter and you can pick any lane above your own, but misguided overconfidence comes with a price.”
Newt was silent, considering Elder Frostgrave’s words. He recently found himself doing that more and more often, thinking before speaking and trying to grasp more meaning from the words he heard.
“Senior, you said the road is cultivator-only for those without mounts, that distinction seemed important?”
The elder nodded with a slight, appreciative smile.
“Yes, those with mechanical devices and spirit beast mounts are not allowed, to prevent cluttering. Piloting mechanical devices requires an imperial license, and spirit beasts naturally have good enough perception not to collide with others and immovable objects. So, both are unlikely to cause accidents, but may panic some inexperienced cultivators and cause a mess on the highway; so they travel through the countryside. Also, they are often quite big and can’t physically fit on the highway, anyway.”
Newt nodded in understanding. Allowing spirit beasts roam the countryside sounded dangerous to him, but he lacked experience, so it might have been fine if they had competent, responsible riders. His mind lingered on the thought much longer than it should have, and he hoped his worries were unfounded.
“So, which lane do we take, Senior?” Newt did not like his odds in the lane in which fifth realm cultivators whizzed by, using their movement techniques. He was certain that neither his speed nor reflexes met the standards of being able to take care of himself when faced with someone outclassing him by two whole realms.
“The one designated for the sixth realm, of course. I will be transporting you.” Elder Frostgrave led the way, her disciples following her without a word, and left without a choice, Newt did what every little velociraptor did, and followed his pack.
As soon as they stepped onto the sixth lane, Elder Frostgrave erupted with spiritual energy. The energy’s purity shocked Newt as the woman, usually void of lights representing the spiritual energy signatures, became a beacon of ice-blue.
The air turned solid, and pale ice took shape around him. Newt nearly yelped when the piercing chill stabbed him into the back of the knee, forcing him to sit on the glacial seat. Everlast sat next to him and gave him a barely perceptible nod that everything was fine. Everything was definitely not fine, the chill pierced Newt’s butt, his skin shriveling.
Reflexively, he activated Magmin Scales, but the exponentially stronger frost devoured the wisp of heat. Then the chill disappeared as another, much gentler light enveloped him.
“Please take no offense, it was an honest mistake.” Elder Frostgrave smiled. “It has been centuries since I gave a ride to someone without ice-attributed spiritual energy.”
The elder’s smile did not seem apologetic to Newt, but he was not certain whether it was the woman covering up her honest embarrassment or if she had intentionally tested him in some way.
So, Newt smiled, his butt still tingling with ice. Did she freeze a chunk of my flesh into a needle?
As the ice sledge took shape, everything below shoulder height was a mate light-blue, sparkling in the sun, while everything above was a perfectly translucent dome, which allowed them to take in the scenery.
Newt forgot about the pain in the ass as the landscape started flowing around him. The movement was slow in the first half a second. Then it reached his sprint, then his full power mad dash, then it grew ridiculous and kept increasing.
Newt’s stomach turned from the dissonance between what his eyes were telling him of their mad careen, as opposed to the rest of his body telling him they had not moved an inch.
A chilly hand gently touched his shoulder.
“Don’t look sideways,” Everlast said. “Look straight ahead, or a bit to the side, focusing on the distant sights. You could also close your eyes.”
Newt took the final piece of advice, and in the black world his stomach calmed. He was just sitting on an icy bench, an icy beauty, almost as old as his grand-uncle, sat next to him, turning his shoulder cold.
“Thank you, Senior Apprentice Sister Everlast. I feel much better.”
The chill on his shoulder disappeared, and Newt focused on his realm. He once more considered how to divide the flows of lava, since Dandelion’s suggested blueprint for his next realm demanded a lot more fire runes than he had room for.
Why didn’t he tell me how to do it? Newt grumbled yet again about how Dandelion smiled, saying he was sure Newt would figure it out before reaching the peak of the third realm.
And I need to find some earth techniques suitable for attack and defense.
Newt spent two hours carving a miniature four-rune-array, parts of it etched into the ground, while others raised above like small, steep ledges. Once complete, it would increase his precision and subtlety when manipulating earth. Satisfied with his progress, he opened his eyes.
In his peripheral vision, the world was a messy blur of green and blue, giving rise to a storm in his stomach, but Newt tuned it out. He focused on what was ahead, the infinite road, specked with occasional blurs they passed on their right.
Newt looked around the sled, but all the girls had closed their eyes, cultivating or meditating to draw spiritual energy. The only one awake was Elder Frostgrave.
“Senior, do you mind telling me about the sect you believe would welcome me?” Newt tried to start a conversation, explicitly not thinking that the only thing keeping him alive in the vessel traveling at absurd speed on the path of the higher realm cultivators was Elder Frostgrave’s good will.
“I believe many would welcome you, but you are a great match for the Explorers’ Gate. Their main focus is exploration, regardless of whether it’s the Savage Wood or the secret realms, they can both be good sources of income and their founders used that wealth to build a solid sect. Rather than pure martial might, they focus on being clever. Don’t think that means they are weak, they just tend to avoid open confrontation with other powerful groups, but if someone threatens their interests, they will bare their fangs.”
Much to Newt’s horror, Elder Frostgrave turned around, her eyes no longer focused on the highway.
“From what I could see, and from what my disciples told me, you should be right at home with them.”
“Yes, yes, please mind the road!” Pale-faced Newt failed to hide his panic, and Elder Frostgrave laughed, turning around.
“Young man, I use more than just my eyes to keep track of the environment. Eyes even become a distraction at certain realms. I’m not quite there myself, but some seniors move so quickly that action happens and finishes before your eyes can capture what has happened. Ice-related arts blur the line further. If my opponent fails to block the entirety of my aura, or if my spiritual energy accumulates in their bodies through wounds, I can freeze their mind, slowing their decision making and information processing.”
Newt shuddered as a sudden thought struck him.
“Senior, can frostworms do that?”
“Not at the level at which you should fight them, no. But if you get stung, their poison does slow the metabolism, meaning the whole body. Getting poisoned by a frostworm means certain death because you were already weak enough to get stung, and your strength will degrade further after the poisoning.”
Newt glanced at Everlast, recalling that stinger heading straight for him. He could have experienced that poison. He could have died from it. Silently he cursed Dandelion and his easy-going manner when he gambled with other people’s lives.
“Senior, if it’s not too much to ask,” Newt said in the humblest voice he could muster, “could you please explain what fire and earth aura can do at higher realm.”
“I cannot. Not because I don’t want to, but my words may be incorrect and influence you deeper than they should, damaging your future. You need to figure out your path on your own, or with a proficient mentor of the same path. Just so you understand, ice is water, and there are many kinds of ice, mine is the biting frost, sudden, aggressive, and powerful. I cannot in good conscience teach disciples of the healing ice or of the creeping ice, since I would lead them astray.”
Newt opened his mouth to ask another question, but sensed that Elder Frostgrave was not done speaking.
“The best I can do is deliver you to people whom I believe share your temperament and interests. Now close your eyes and cultivate, you can do a larger piece if you want, we have two days before we reach our destination.”
