Around late afternoon, maybe 4 or 5 PM, Alexei wasn't great at telling time by the sun's position yet, Qingxue and Yan finally returned, flying back on their swords in tandem.
He felt a weird sense of déjà vu watching them land, like he was back in school waiting for teachers to return from some administrative meeting. Even though Qingxue was technically stricter about his training schedule, he found Yan somehow more intimidating despite her gentler demeanor.
Maybe it was a student thing. The nice teacher was always scarier than the strict one because you felt guilty disappointing them.
Though lately, Yan had been acting strange. He couldn't quite put his finger on what was different, but something about her behavior felt off.
She'd been visiting the courtyard more frequently, always with some new medicinal herb to test with his abilities. She always found some excuse to linger, watching him work with a slight smile.
It was just weird.
"Alexei," Yan called as they approached. "How was your cultivation practice today?"
He'd been fishing.
"Productive."
His body still couldn't sense qi. Even after MC-fying the spirit fruits, he felt nothing. It was probably because there was no concept of qi in Minecraft to begin with. If he had to explain it, it was like trying to run a PS5 game on a Game Boy.
He was the Game Boy.
Qingxue gave him a look that suggested she knew exactly how "productive" his day had been, but she didn't call him out on it.
Instead, she smiled. "I have good news. We're leaving for Verdantree City tomorrow morning for the recruitment ceremony. No calligraphy practice today."
Alexei's mood immediately improved about three hundred percent.
He'd been memorizing twenty to thirty words a day, which sounded reasonable in theory but was torture for his brain. For some reason, looking at those flowing cultivation-world words made him inexplicably drowsy.
The hypnotic effect was comparable to his math classes back on Earth. He'd fall asleep with his eyes open.
Though to be fair, he was pretty sure his inability to focus had nothing to do with intelligence and everything to do with the fact that learning a completely foreign writing system was objectively tedious as hell.
"Pack light," Qingxue continued. "We're traveling by sword flight, so space is limited."
Alexei looked around his courtyard. "Pack" was a generous term for what little he owned.
He and Qingxue spent the next hour in a state of mild indecision, picking things up, putting them down, picking them up again.
Eventually, Alexei settled on ripening two more batches of Brightglow Fruit to bring as travel snacks. He also packed his armor, weapons, and iron tools, the basics for survival in case things went sideways.
He'd considered bringing some of the lower-grade spirit herbs he'd grown with bone meal, thinking he could sell them for extra cash, but Yan had shut that idea down immediately.
"The quality's too perfect," she'd explained. "Spirit herbs that flawless would attract the wrong kind of attention. People would ask questions about where you got them."
"What about gold ingots?" he'd asked. "Those are just metal, right?"
Yan had given him a patient look. "Gold is a controlled resource. The imperial court and the Immortal Alliance regulate its distribution. Without the right connections, you'd have trouble selling it legally. And illegal sales would attract even more attention."
Alexei had stared at his storage chest full and felt a migraine coming on.
So I'm sitting on a fortune I can't spend... Welcome to the cultivation world. Where everything valuable is either illegal, regulated, or will get you killed.
He'd decided then and there to avoid unnecessary complications. Better to fly under the radar than end up like some protagonist with enemies crawling out of the woodwork every five minutes.
Qingxue, for her part, hadn't packed anything except spirit stones, all of which she'd stuffed into Alexei's inventory with the excuse that he had "more space."
The traveling party would consist of: Second Elder Xing Quan, Yan, Duan and his disciple, Qingxue, and Alexei himself.
The Sect Master had originally planned to come along, but after eating two Brightglow Fruits a few days ago, he'd apparently touched on some kind of breakthrough opportunity to the Nascent Soul realm and immediately locked himself in seclusion.
That left the sect in the hands of Cheng and his disciple Mu Qiunye, plus Zhi.
Technically there were two more members, Fifth Elder Ge Xiantu and his disciple Yu Hongying, but they'd gone traveling two years ago and probably wouldn't return for several more years.
Small sect problems: half your roster was perpetually absent.
---
The next morning, Qingxue dragged Alexei out of bed before the sun had fully risen.
He stumbled through getting dressed and washing his face in a bleary-eyed haze, still half-asleep as Qingxue guided him onto her sword for the flight to the mountain peak. Only once they were airborne, with cool wind hitting his face, did his brain finally start functioning properly.
The summit plaza was already occupied when they arrived. Two figures stood by the railing at the platform's edge.
Qingxue flew over and landed, gesturing for Alexei to step off the sword.
"This is Bai Duan," she said, making introductions. "If you ever want to learn smithing or artifact refinement, he's the one to ask."
"And this is his direct disciple, Xiong Jianqiang."
Alexei looked at the two men standing before him and had to suppress the urge to say "what the fuck" out loud.
These were cultivators?
Duan was a mountain of a man, easily over two meters tall, built like someone who'd spent their entire life competing in strongman competitions. His face was all hard angles and muscle, with a shaved head so perfectly bald it gleamed in the morning light. And he was wearing the sect's blue-and-white robes, which looked several sizes too small, stretched tight across a chest.
Next to him, Jianqiang was cut from the same cloth. The only difference was the hair. He had long, black, impossibly lustrous hair that fell past his waist in a silky cascade that would make shampoo commercials weep with envy.
The contrast between that flowing, elegant hair and the brick-wall body beneath it was so jarring that Alexei's brain briefly short-circuited trying to process it.
Compared to that, Duan's bald head almost seemed normal.
"So this is Alexei," Duan rumbled. His voice was surprisingly friendly despite the intimidating appearance.
Before Alexei could respond, a massive hand reached out and ruffled his hair. His heart skipped a beat, concerned that the man might accidentally crush his skull through sheer unconscious strength.
Qingxue didn't seem worried, which was either reassuring or meant she had way too much faith in Duan's self-control.
The hand retreated after a moment, then gave Alexei's shoulder a friendly pat that nearly sent him stumbling. Qingxue caught him smoothly, pulling him back upright, and shot Duan a disapproving glare.
The big man scratched his bald head sheepishly. Then, as if suddenly remembering something, he turned and kicked his disciple squarely in the ass.
THUMP
"What are you standing around for? Give the kid his welcoming gift!"
Alexei blinked. "Welcoming gift?"
Jianqiang flicked his absurdly perfect hair... seriously, how did it stay that shiny? And he pulled something from behind his back.
A sword. Short, maybe fifty centimeters long, no sheath. And bright, eye-searing, death-metal-concert pink.
He held it out with both hands, his movements oddly graceful for someone built like a tank, and his face arranged itself into what was probably meant to be a charming smile but looked more like someone trying to fight off gas pains.
"This is a Mystic-grade sword forged by my master and myself. Please accept it."
Alexei stared at the aggressively pink sword, then at the muscle-bound man holding it, then back at the sword. His brain was having trouble reconciling... everything about this situation.
The sword clashed violently with any concept of his personal aesthetic. The voice coming out of that body was so wrong it created cognitive dissonance.
Duan's eye twitched. A vein popped out on his temple.
SMACK.
He backhanded his disciple's head with enough force to make Alexei wince in sympathy.
"Can you talk normal? We're all from the same sect here. Who are you performing for?"
Jianqiang's refined expression crumbled instantly, replaced with a much simpler, more honest look. He scratched his head, and when he spoke again, his voice had dropped about three octaves into a deep, gravelly rumble that matched his appearance.
"Uh... just call me Jianqiang. Or Iron Bear. Whatever works. Hahaha..."
Alexei felt his whole body relax.
That voice he could handle.
He took the pink sword because refusing a gift seemed rude, even if the color scheme was an assault on his eyeballs.
He turned it over in his hands to examine it properly.
The craftsmanship was undeniably excellent. The blade was thin and narrow, maybe two fingers wide at most, and felt remarkably light. Even without testing it, he could tell from the way light caught the edge that this thing was sharp enough to shave with.
He focused his attention on it the way he would an item in Minecraft, and sure enough, information appeared:
[Mystic-Etched Rose-Gold Sword:
Spiritual Energy Circuit I
Sharpness IV
+6 (1+5) Attack Damage]
He blinked. It has enchantments?
Not just one, but two enchantments, right out of the gate. But the base damage was only one point? That seemed wrong.
If he remembered correctly, each level of Sharpness added 1.25 damage. Level four would be exactly five points, which tracked with what he was seeing. The "Spiritual Energy Circuit I" enchantment was completely foreign to him, though. Nothing like that existed in Minecraft. Must be something specific to this world's cultivation mechanics.
He stared at the stats, trying to make sense of how his Minecraft interface calculated values here. This was supposed to be a Mystic-grade weapon in cultivation terms, high quality stuff. How could the base damage be so pathetic?
Though honestly, he had no frame of reference for what "good" weapon stats looked like in this world. Maybe one point of base damage was normal and the enchantments did all the heavy lifting. Either way, despite the aggressively pink color scheme, this was objectively a nice sword.
"Thank you," he said sincerely, meeting Duan's eyes and then Jianqiang's. "I really appreciate it."
"As long as you like it! That's all that matters! And the pink color..." Duan paused, clearly realizing something. "Wait. You don't mind the color, do you? I assumed, well, most new disciples prefer brighter colors, so..."
He had rushed to the nearest cultivator market the moment he heard about Alexei joining the sect, trading for materials he thought would make a good welcoming gift. He'd only finished forging the sword yesterday, working basically non-stop. Hell, he hadn't even eaten the Brightglow Fruits Qingxue had given him yet, too focused on finishing the weapon.
Seeing how tired Duan looked, how invested he clearly was, made Alexei feel even worse about the color, yet there was no polite way to say: I love it except it looks like it belongs in a girl's toy chest.
"It's fine. I'm more concerned with whether it works than what color it is."
Which was mostly true.
Duan looked relieved. "Good! A practical mindset. That'll serve you well."
---
They had some time before departure, so Alexei drifted over to the railing to look out at the view.
Early morning mist still clung to the mountains, and distant peaks rose out of the cloud layer. The whole landscape had this ethereal quality to it that reminded him of old paintings.
It was, objectively, beautiful. Way better than any nature preserve back on Earth, and those places charged admission.
He was still observing the scenery when he heard footsteps approaching from behind.
"There you are."
Alexei turned to find Yan walking up, looking considerably more alert than usual despite the early hour. Her perpetually half-lidded eyes were open. She turned to look out at the view he'd been admiring.
"Beautiful morning."
"Yeah. It is."
They stood there in companionable silence until Duan's voice rang out across the plaza.
"Quan's here! Everyone to the spirit boat!"
Alexei followed Duan's line of sight and spotted a small vessel descending from the sky.
The spirit boat wasn't particularly large. Maybe the size of a decent fishing boat back on Earth, with an open deck and simple railing around the edges. It could probably fit twenty people if you packed them in, though it'd be crowded.
As it touched down on the plaza, a stern-looking middle-aged man stepped forward from the bow. He had the kind of face that suggested he didn't smile often and took his responsibilities very seriously.
His gaze swept over the assembled group, pausing briefly on Alexei with an expression that might've been curiosity, before he gestured toward the boat.
"Let's go," he said simply. "We have a schedule to keep."
---
The spirit boat cruised through the air without the faintest vibration, even as they flew hundreds of meters above the ground at what had to be highway speeds.
Formation arrays, apparently.
Three days to Verdantree City, Quan had said, which meant three days of smooth sailing through the sky with nothing to do.
Alexei had claimed a spot near the railing, leaning over to watch the landscape scroll by beneath them. It was pretty impressive from up here, even if he'd never admit it out loud.
Yan drifted over after a while, settling in beside him.
"Enjoying the view?"
"It's not bad. Better than being on the ground getting chased by things that want to eat me."
She smiled at that. "I suppose that's true. Though you might be interested to know, the sect is built right on the edge of a demon beast forest."
That... actually raised a question he'd been wondering about for a while now.
"Okay, so if you're right next to a forest full of demon beasts, why doesn't the sect just, you know, kill them and sell the parts? Isn't that how cultivation economics works? Demon cores, beast materials, all that stuff?"
Yan's expression shifted to something that might've been amusement. "You've been reading cultivation stories, haven't you?"
"Maybe. Why?"
"Because that's exactly how it works in stories. In reality?" She shook her head. "The Immortal Alliance has strict regulations against the indiscriminate slaughter of demon beasts."
Alexei frowned. "Seems like leaving dangerous monsters alive would be the stupid option."
"It's an ecosystem issue," Yan explained. "Most spirit plants exist in symbiotic relationships with demon beasts. The really valuable ones can't be cultivated by humans at all. They only grow wild, and they need demon beasts to propagate. So if you kill all the demon beasts... The spirit plants die out. Or at best, their numbers drop so drastically that they might as well be extinct."
Alexei processed that. "Huh. That's kind of smart. Environmentalism through self-interest."
"Something like that. The Immortal Alliance learned the hard way a few centuries ago. There was a period when sects were hunting demon beasts aggressively for profit. Within a generation, spirit plant populations collapsed across entire regions. It nearly triggered a cultivation resource crisis."
"So now everyone just leaves the demon beasts alone?"
"For the most part. Controlled hunting is allowed under specific circumstances, but large-scale slaughter is forbidden. The penalties are severe enough that no one wants to risk it."
That made sense again. Still, it raised another question.
"What about just harvesting the spirit plants directly?"
Yan's expression turned somewhat bitter. "In theory, yes. In practice? The Eastern Territories has such thin spiritual energy that most high-grade spirit plants have already died out. Even mid-grade ones are rare now. The demon beast forests are enormous and we have no way of detecting where spirit plants are growing. It's like searching for a specific grain of sand on a beach. The only reliable sources of quality spirit plants these days are the secret realms controlled by major sects. But those are monopolized by the powerful factions. Independent cultivators and minor sects like ours don't have access."
"Fuck."
"Indeed."
So basically, every money-making scheme he'd read about in cultivation novels was worthless here. You couldn't hunt demon beasts for profit. You couldn't harvest wild spirit plants because they barely existed. And the few reliable sources were locked behind sect politics and power structures.
No wonder Aureate Summit Sect was so poor. They were operating in a cultivation economy that had already extracted all the easy resources and left nothing but scraps.
"That's depressing," he said finally.
Yan gave him a sympathetic look. "Welcome to cultivation in the Eastern Territories. It's not quite as glamorous as the stories make it sound."
"Yeah, I'm starting to notice that."
----------
[POV: Yi Mengyao]
Outside Verdantree City, in the shadow of walls that had stood for centuries, a thin girl with a dirt-smudged face shuffled forward in an endless line of people.
Mengyao kept her eyes down. Around her were dozens of other children, some as young as three or four, others in their mid-teens. Most had the cleaned-up, hopeful look of kids whose parents had scraped together enough money to give them a shot at the cultivation world.
Her clothes were dirtier, and more ragged. She'd worked hard to look like the kind of orphan no one would look at twice.
She knew exactly what was coming. Because she had lived through this before.
In her previous life, this had been her moment of glory. They'd discovered she possessed an Immortal Spirit Root during the testing, one of the rarest constitutions in the cultivation world. Every major sect had fought over her. She'd ended up joining Celestial Path Sect, the most prestigious immortal sect in the Eastern Territories, with tens of thousands of disciples and a history stretching back millennia.
She'd thought she'd won the lottery.
But she'd been so stupidly naive.
Later, internal testing revealed she also possessed an Immortal Bone, another heaven-defying advantage. The sect master himself had taken her as his ninth personal disciple. She'd been on top of the world, filled with dreams and optimism and all the stupid assumptions about how fair and righteous the cultivation world would be.
Reality had corrected those assumptions quickly and brutally.
Celestial Path Sect, for all its reputation, was rotten to the core. Obsessed with bloodlines and background, full of scheming disciples and political maneuvering that made mortal court intrigue look straightforward by comparison. The smiling faces hid daggers. The righteous rhetoric covered up petty cruelty and ruthless ambition.
And Mengyao, despite her talent, had been thrown into that snake pit without warning.
From the moment she'd joined, they'd pushed her to "be understanding" toward her junior martial sister. To "not make waves." And to "show proper humility."
Her junior sister, who was barely a month younger and had joined only three months later.
Her junior sister, whose talent was inferior, whose looks were plainer, and whose cultivation speed was slower.
Her junior sister, who somehow always got the support, the resources, and the genuine affection of their fellow disciples while Mengyao got nothing but cold shoulders and subtle hostility.
At some point, without her even realizing it was happening, her reputation within the sect had transformed into something ugly.
She'd done nothing to earn those accusations.
But her junior sister had a gift for playing the victim. One tearful look, or one trembling voice saying "I'm sure she didn't mean it," and suddenly everyone believed the worst about Mengyao. Her martial sister would "defend" her in ways that only made the accusations stick harder, reinforcing the narrative that Mengyao was a jealous bitch who needed constant supervision.
And Mengyao, like an idiot, had believed her junior sister was trying to help. She had been even grateful for the "support."
The memory of her own stupidity still burned.
It wasn't until the incident in the secret realm that she'd finally seen the truth.
Several of her martial siblings had ambushed her during an expedition. They caught her alone and overwhelmed her through numbers. They'd used a forbidden technique to forcibly extract her spirit root and Immortal Bone, transplanting them directly into her junior sister's body.
The pain had been indescribable. Like having her soul ripped out piece by piece. And through it all, her junior sister had stood there, watching, wearing that same expression of tearful "concern."
Mengyao remembered her exact words, delivered in that soft, sobbing voice: She looks like she's in so much pain. This is so cruel. Maybe... maybe we should just end her suffering quickly?
The words of someone performing mercy.
Except she had seen it. She had seen the smile her junior sister couldn't quite suppress as she wiped away those tears. And she had seen the satisfaction in her junior sister's eyes as the sword plunged into her heart.
And then... darkness.
She'd died. Her body stopped working, her consciousness separated, and she'd expected... something. Reincarnation, maybe. Or oblivion. Some kind of afterlife.
Instead, she'd just drifted.
Her soul had remained in the world, unable to move on.
So she'd followed them back to Celestial Path Sect and witnessed her master's reaction to the news of her death: a slight frown of annoyance that such "inauspicious news" had interrupted his drinking session with other sect leaders.
He hadn't questioned the flawed story her martial siblings told. He hadn't investigated how her spirit root and Immortal Bone had ended up in her junior sister's body. And he hadn't cared at all that his ninth disciple was dead.
And the other disciples? They'd kept right on slandering her even after her death, spreading rumors and lies like she'd never existed as anything but a cautionary tale about jealous women.
She'd drifted for what felt like years, watching helplessly as her junior sister used the stolen spirit root and Immortal Bone to soar through the cultivation ranks. Admirers had gathered in ever-greater numbers, fighting among themselves for her favor, while anyone who crossed her was quietly destroyed through social manipulation and "misunderstandings."
Her junior sister had perfected the art of appearing soft and helpless while getting exactly what she wanted, every single time.
Mengyao had drifted for so long she'd lost track of time entirely. Just an impotent ghost, unable to affect anything, forced to watch the injustice continue forever. Until one morning, about a month ago, she'd felt something grab her soul.
For a moment, everything had gone blank.
When awareness returned, she'd found herself staring at a ceiling she recognized from childhood. In a body that was small, weak, and very much alive.
She'd been reborn, sent back to the morning of her seventh birthday.
It was a second chance.
---
Noon in Verdantree City brought crowds.
The line to enter through the main gate stretched as far as Mengyao could see, thousands of people packed together, shuffling forward at a glacial pace under the brutal midday sun. Merchants with carts, travelers with bundles, families dragging excited children toward the promise of the disciple recruitment ceremony.
Above the city, the sky was nearly empty by comparison. Every few minutes, a cultivator would flash past on a flying sword, and each appearance drew gasps and pointing fingers from the crowd below.
Then came something that made even Mengyao look up.
A massive spirit boat, easily a hundred meters long and glowing with golden light, approached from the horizon.
She felt a flicker of surprise.
That's Celestial Path Sect's flagship vessel.
In her previous life, that boat had been dispatched to Obsidian Ridge City for recruitment, not Verdantree. Why the change?
She frowned, turning the question over in her mind. Had something shifted because of her rebirth? Or had she simply misremembered the details after all these years?
Either way, it didn't matter.
This life, she had no intention of joining Celestial Path Sect again. Let them recruit whoever they wanted. She'd find some remote minor sect, keep her head down, and use the cultivation technique she'd obtained from that secret realm in her past life to steadily build her strength. Even if the spiritual energy was thin in a smaller sect, she had confidence in her own talent. It might take longer, but she'd get there eventually.
And once she reached Core Formation stage, she'd have access to the knowledge and connections she'd accumulated during all those years of drifting as a ghost. Resources wouldn't be an issue then.
As for the Heaven tier technique Celestial Path Sect had taught her in her previous life? She'd already discarded it mentally. The thought of using anything connected to that place made her feel sick.
She tore her gaze away from the golden spirit boat and continued shuffling toward the city gates with the rest of the crowd.
Entering the city took until evening. The guards were surprisingly polite as they waved people through after cursory inspections. In a city hosting a cultivation sect recruitment ceremony, you never knew which dirty-faced child might be the next chosen disciple. Better to be courteous to everyone than risk offending someone who'd remember the slight in a few decades when they had the power to level your entire family.
Cultivation politics at its finest.
A young cultivator in merchant house colors led Mengyao's group through the streets.
"We're almost at the Steadyroot Company," he announced, noticing the nervous energy among the children. "Don't worry, you'll all receive free room and board until the ceremony concludes. The company takes care of potential recruits."
It was a business investment, obviously. The company didn't expect to discover any heaven-defying prodigies. They just needed a few kids with average talent to join sects and remember who'd helped them along the way. And if one exceptional genius appeared in the bunch? Well, that'd be a favor worth collecting later.
The other children looked overwhelmed, intimidated by the grand buildings and bustling streets. Mengyao just followed calmly at the back of the group.
She knew the Steadyroot Company's reputation: solid, honest, and well regarded.
She also knew that in seventy years, on a seemingly ordinary day, the entire company would be wiped out. Every member killed, the buildings burned, and the records destroyed.
After her death, drifting as a ghost, she'd learned the truth: her "righteous" eldest martial brother had been responsible. The one everyone admired for his heroic bearing and firm principles. And woven through the evidence like a subtle thread, she'd found traces of her junior sister's involvement.
Her instincts told her the massacre had been connected to her somehow, though she still couldn't figure out why. She was certain she'd never had contact with the Steadyroot Company outside of this recruitment period. When she'd first heard about their destruction from her martial brother, she'd barely even remembered who they were.
But this time, she wasn't joining Celestial Path Sect. Which meant whatever chain of events led to the company's destruction might never begin.
---
They arrived at an impressive courtyard entrance where well-dressed servants immediately came forward to greet them. The servants took everyone's bundles and led them deeper into the complex.
Most of the children looked utterly lost, unused to this kind of treatment.
A refined woman in her thirties was assigned to Mengyao's group, the handful of girls in the recruitment pool. She had the kind of elegant features and warm smile that put people at ease.
"This way," she said gently. "I'll show you to your rooms."
They walked through the courtyard complex for a good fifteen minutes before stopping at a row of small buildings. The woman gestured to the nearest one.
"This will be your lodging during the ceremony. There's a bathhouse next door with fresh clothes waiting. Let's get everyone cleaned up and settled, then I'll show you around the grounds so you don't get lost."
The other girls immediately perked up at the mention of baths. They'd all been traveling for days in cramped wagons, sweating through their clothes in the summer heat. Mengyao could smell herself. They desperately needed to wash.
The girls rushed into the sleeping quarters to drop off their belongings, then stampeded toward the bathhouse.
Mengyao hesitated.
In her previous life, she'd gone along happily. This time, with an adult's mind in a child's body, the whole situation felt complicated.
The Steadyroot Company was legitimate, and the woman was just doing her job. But still deeply uncomfortable in ways she couldn't quite articulate. So she lingered in the sleeping quarters, reorganizing her small bundle of possessions, stalling.
The woman poked her head back in after a few minutes, raising an eyebrow.
"Not interested in getting clean? The water's lovely."
"I can manage myself," Mengyao said quietly.
The woman's expression softened. "Ah. Shy, are we? That's alright. The others are already in the main bath, but there's a smaller washing room in the back if you'd prefer privacy. I'll show you."
Relief flooded through Mengyao. "Thank you."
The woman led her to a separate room with a basin and clean water, then handed her fresh clothes and left with a reassuring smile. "Take your time. Come find me when you're done."
Alone at last, Mengyao stripped off her filthy traveling clothes and scrubbed herself clean as quickly as possible. The water was cold but refreshing. When she finished bathing, she changed into the provided outfit and emerged feeling considerably more human.
----------
[POV: Alexei]
The spirit boat had been in the air for three solid days, and Alexei was starting to understand why cultivators developed such inflated egos.
Flying was objectively cool. There was no getting around that fact.
They descended through the cloud layer as Verdantree City came into view below. It was a sprawling urban center that probably housed hundreds of thousands of people, all contained within massive walls that looked like they could withstand a siege from a modern army.
For the first time since arriving in this world, he saw other cultivators in action. Not just his sect mates, but random practitioners flying through the air on... well, lots of things.
Some rode swords, which tracked with every cultivation story he'd ever read. But others flew on sabers, fans, and... was that guy riding a gourd? Yes. Definitely a gourd. Like some kind of spiritual vegetable surfboard.
They'd passed several other spirit boats during the journey too. Most were smaller, faster vessels that could barely fit four or five people. By comparison, the Aureate Summit Sect's boat was practically luxurious.
"We'll reach the Immortal Alliance Plaza in about ten minutes," Quan called from the bow.
The spirit boat descended further, and suddenly Alexei could make out individual people in the streets below. The city was packed. He could hear vendors shouting, smell cooking food on the wind, and see the otherworldly urban life unfolding in real time.
It was actually kind of impressive.
When he'd flown back to the sect with Qingxue, they'd been several thousand meters up, moving at ridiculous speed. All he'd seen then was a blur of lights. This was close enough to appreciate the scale of civilization in this world.
"Huh," he muttered. "Not bad."
Jianqiang leaned on the railing beside him, looking thoroughly unimpressed.
"What's so interesting about this shitty city? Far as I'm concerned, every city looks exactly the same."