Chapter 117
A month ago.
The road stretched south, empty and dust-choked, the sun beating down on the hard-packed earth. Aris stood at the edge of the treeline, his pack slung over one shoulder, his sword at his hip. He could feel the heat on his skin, the weight of the day pressing down on him.
Ezra had left him an hour ago. Myles had gone with him—the White Tiger in human form, his orange eyes gleaming, his wild hair catching the light. They had argued, briefly, about whether Aris should come with them. Ezra and Myles had been against it. Even Aris, in the end, had admitted it was foolish.
He was not strong enough.
So they had left him at the crossroads, with directions and a warning and not much else.
"This is a test for you. If you can survive reaching the hidden City, than you have talent," Ezra had said. "You know the way. Don't get killed before you reach it."
Aris had nodded.
Now he was walking on the road which was empty. The trees on either side were thin, scraggly, the kind that grew where the soil was poor and the wind was strong. He could feel the dust beneath his boots, the occasional rock, the root that crossed his path. His Ore stretched outward, sensing the world in ways his eyes never could.
He walked for an hour and then two.
He heard the carriage before he saw it—the creak of wheels, the clop of hooves, the murmur of a voice. His Ore reached out, touching the shape of it: a driver, a single horse, a covered bed that could hold cargo or passengers. The man at the reins was middle-aged, heavyset, with the kind of aura that suggested he had seen violence and survived it.
Aris stepped into the road.
The carriage slowed. The man leaned forward, squinting.
"You lost, boy?"
Aris shook his head. "Traveling north, just need to reach the hidden City."
The man was silent for a moment. Then he laughed—a short, rough sound.
"The Hidden City? You know where it is?"
"I know."
Another pause. Aris could feel the man's eyes on him, studying him, weighing something. His Ore read the shift in the man's aura—interest, calculation, and something else which was darker.
"Climb on," the man said. "I'm heading to a city close enough. You can ride with me."
Aris hesitated.
He knew what the man was. He could feel the ill intent coiled beneath the surface, the greed that had flickered to life when the man realized he was blind. Walking to the Hidden City alone was dangerous—the roads were filled with bandits, beasts, and other dangers he was not yet strong enough to face. The carriage was a risk but the road was a risk too.
He climbed on.
The carriage lurched forward. The man said nothing for a long time, and Aris was content to let the silence stretch. He closed his eyes—not that it mattered—and turned his attention inward.
His mana core was small, weak, the product of years of neglect and poor training.
He began to cultivate.
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Sorry for cutting in the middle of the story but
Thanks so much for your support and for sticking with the story so far! The upcoming chapters are absolute bangers I won't spoil anything, but if you want to see where things are going, head over to patreon.com/KingAlex738, where you'll find 10 or more chapters ahead.
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The mana came to him slowly. He was not talented, But Lucas had broken the limits that had held him back, had given him a foundation greater than before with the naturing method. Making his Mana core talent reaching Platinum Stage. The mana flowed through him, settling into his core.
The carriage bumped along the road. The man hummed tunelessly. Aris cultivated.
And then—something shifted.
The mana surged, flowing into him faster than before, denser, richer. His core expanded, the walls stretching, the energy within condensing into something new. He felt the change ripple through him, felt his body adjust, felt the power settle into place.
He had broken through.
Copper to Bronze.
He smiled.
"You're blind," the man said.
Aris opened his eyes. "I know."
"How do you know where you're going?"
"I feel it."
The man laughed again, but the sound was different now. "Is that Right."
Aris said nothing. His Ore had already caught the shift in the man's aura—the tension in his shoulders, the way his hand had moved toward something beneath the seat. He had known this was coming. He had known it since the moment he climbed onto the carriage.
The man attacked.
The knife came fast, aimed at Aris's side—not to kill, but to wound and make him unable to move.
Aris moved.
He was not fast. Not by the standards of the Hidden City, not by the standards of Lucas or Ezra or any of the others. But he was faster than he had been. And he had seen the attack before it began.
He slid sideways, the blade passing through empty air. His hand found his sword, drew it, brought it up. The point stopped an inch from the man's throat.
The carriage lurched to a halt.
The man stared at him, his eyes wide, his hand still raised.
"Why?" Aris asked.
The man's jaw tightened. His aura flickered—fear, anger, and beneath it, something that might have been shame. "You know very well that only a few very successful merchants can enter the hidden city," he said and added "Also you are Fit to be a slave to my greatness as I become one of those merchants connected with the hidden city."
Aris held the blade steady.
He thought about killing him. It would be easy—a single thrust, a single moment, and the man would be gone.
He didn't lower his sword.
"I don't care about your greatness," he said and added "Keep moving or your dead."
The man stared at him. "Hmmm?"
"I'm giving you a chance, don't be stupid."
The man did not argue, he was a cultivator, but he used a unproper cultivation method making him a semi cultivator as he was at the Bronze stage. He wanted to attack but he knew by looking at Aris eyes that it won't end well. He moved the horse faster moving quicker to the city he was going at.