Cultivation is Creation

“Hostiles?” I asked.

“It looks to be a group of travelers approaching from the north,” Azure replied. “They’re moving at moderate speed on transport, so they should catch up in under thirty seconds.”

With my right hand, I shaded my eyes to peer ahead.

Sure enough, a dust cloud marked the approach of what appeared to be a cart or wagon, it was still too distant to make out clearly.

I had three options.

The first was to continue on the road and interact with them as a simple traveler.

The second was to conceal myself until they’ve passed by.

And the last was to leave the road entirely and circle around their position.

All three options had their own benefits and risks.

Staying concealed was the safest option, but aside from that, it offered no advantages, I would still need to worry about my dwindling supplies, and it was uncertain whether I would die before I made it to the city.

As for avoiding them completely, that cost time and energy I didn’t have to spare.

“Let’s stay on the road,” I decided, preparing to channel spiritual essence if required. “But I’ll be ready to divert if they appear threatening.”

It wasn’t unusual for travelers to use this road, and with them traveling in the open, they were less likely to be a group of bandits. However, the Two Sun’s World wasn’t exactly known for making sense.

As the travelers drew closer, the details became clearer. It was indeed a wagon, the enclosed type that were used by merchants, drawn by two dark horses. Accompanying it were three mounted figures and two walking alongside. All whom appeared to be armed, though not heavily so.

“Merchants with hired guards,” I murmured. “Pretty standard on these roads.”

“Yes,” Azure confirmed. “Raiders prefer defenseless villages or isolated travelers like yourself, they rarely target well-protected merchant caravans.”

That was somewhat reassuring, though I still kept my hand near the rusty sword as the group approached. They had certainly spotted me by now, a lone figure on otherwise empty road was pretty hard to miss.

Sure enough, when they drew within a hundred yards, there was a change in formation. The mounted guards moved to flank the wagon protectively. One raised a hand to shield his eyes from the sun as he studied me with obvious suspicion.

I deliberately let my shoulders slump slightly, adopting the posture of an exhausted, traumatised mortal. It wasn’t entirely an act, this body really was approaching its limits, and the memories of the village’s destruction were still fresh on my mind, even if I had experienced them multiple times by now.

When the caravan was about fifty yards away, one of the mounted guards, a man in his forties with a short beard and hard eyes that had seen their fair share of trouble, raised a hand to signal the wagon to slow. He then nudged his own horse forward and cautiously trotted towards me.

“You there,” he called out in a voice accustomed to commanding others. “State your name and business on this road.”

I raised my empty hands to show I meant no threat. My sword hung visibly at my waist, but I made no move to grab it.

“My name is Tomas,” I replied, letting genuine weariness color my voice. “I’m from Porvale Village to the south. Ra-raiders attacked at dawn… I b-barely escaped.”

“Porvale, you say?” The guard’s eyes narrowed as his gaze swept our surroundings, no doubt looking for signs of an ambush. “That’s more than half a day’s travel by horse.” His hand slowly moved to the pommel of his sword. “You made good time for someone on foot.”

I nodded slowly, dropping my gaze as though overwhelmed by tragic memories. “I…I’ve been running for my life since sunrise. Through the forest mostly, I didn’t want to risk the roads until I had to.”

A young woman in her early twenties exited from the interior of the wagon, she was dressed in simple yet finely-made traveling clothes. Unlike the hardened guards with her, her features, framed by loose dark hair that fell to her shoulders.

"You've come a long way all alone," she said, her eyes wide as she took in my poor state. "These raids you mentioned, did you happen to see which band it was? Any markings you might have noticed?"

"The Seventh Band came through the south wall," I replied, recalling details from my multiple experiences of the attack. "The main force came through the east gate. Some had the red tattoos... and when the red sun reached its peak, a few started to change."

This last detail caused a visible reaction among the travelers. One of the walking guards made a warding gesture, and the young woman's hand flew to a pendant at her throat.

"Sun-touched," she whispered, a slight tremor in her voice. She exchanged a glance with one of the guards before turning back to me. "Was there..." she hesitated, "was there a Skybound present as well?"

"I don't know what it was," I said slowly, injecting appropriate awe and fear into my voice. "After the Sun-touched appeared, there was... something else. A person, I think, but not like any I've seen. It floated above the ground, covered in frost, eyes burning like fire. Everyone who came near it just... froze solid."

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The young woman's face paled, and she reached out to steady herself against the wagon's side. The guard quickly moved his horse closer, protective.

"The poor people," she said softly. "And you witnessed all this? How terrible for you. You're fortunate to have escaped such horror."

"I know," I said quietly, lowering my head. "I shouldn't have run, but..."

"No," she interrupted gently. "Please don't think that way. No one could stand against such forces. You did what anyone would, what anyone should, do to survive."

The guard was still eyeing me with suspicion. "How'd you get that sword? Village militiaman?"

I glanced down at the rusty blade as if I'd forgotten it was there. "No, sir. Maya, one of our defenders, gave it to me during the attack. Said to help fight, but..." I let my voice trail off, implications of cowardice hanging in the air.

The guard seemed satisfied with this explanation, posture relaxing slightly. "Where you headed now, boy? Got family elsewhere?"

"No, sir. I thought to reach Hyelin City. Heard they have work for willing hands, and..." I gestured vaguely at the empty road behind me, "nothing left for me back there."

The young woman studied me thoughtfully, a gentle smile softening her features. She turned to the guard. "Beric, we can't just leave him here. The poor boy has nowhere to go."

Beric frowned. "Your caravan, your rules, Lady Laelyn. But he rides unarmed."

Lady Laelyn nodded before turning back to me. "We have room in our wagon. You're welcome to ride with us."

I blinked, genuinely surprised by the offer. "I... thank you, my lady. But I wouldn't want to impose—"

"It's no imposition," she assured me. "The roads aren't safe for anyone traveling alone. At Crossroads Inn, we’ll need help with the horses and unloading. You could earn your supper and rest there."

It was a fair offer, better than I could have hoped for. A ride to the trading post, potential work, and the safety of traveling with an armed group, all valuable assets for our current situation.

But more importantly, being inside a caravan would shield me from Vayara’s eyes. A lone figure escaping from the direction of the village would be easy for a Skybound to spot and knowing her personality, she would gladly hunt for survivors.

"I'd be grateful," I said, bowing slightly. "And happy to work."

Beric dismounted in a smooth motion. "Sword," he said, extending a hand. "You'll get it back when we part ways."

I unstrapped the rusty blade without protest, handing it over hilt-first. They were being cautious, not unreasonable, and it wasn’t like it’d make much difference if things went badly, spiritual essence was more than enough to deal with normal threats.

Beric examined the weapon briefly, noting the notched edge and poor quality with a raised eyebrow. "Wouldn't have done you much good anyway," he muttered, before stowing it in a saddlebag and remounting.

Lady Laelyn gestured toward the wagon. "Please, make yourself comfortable among the crates. We carry textiles and dyes for the Hyelin markets, they shouldn't shift too much during travel."

Her kindness seemed genuine, but something in the way she spoke, a certain refined pronunciation of words, caught my attention. It didn't quite match the merchant persona she presented.

I nodded and made my way to the rear of the wagon, where one of the walking guards helped me climb aboard. The interior was crowded with secured crates and bundles, but there was indeed space for a person to sit, albeit not comfortably.

As I settled into my spot, the caravan resumed its journey northward. The steady rocking of the wagon was soothing after hours of walking, and despite the discomfort of sitting among shifting cargo, I felt some tension leave my body.

"This development significantly improves our projected timeline," Azure observed. "At their current pace, we should reach the trading post well before sundown."

I nodded subtly, leaning back. It was a good opportunity to rest.

But as my back rested against the crate, something caught my eye. The guard who had helped me up was adjusting his collar, and for a brief moment, I glimpsed what looked like a silver chain with an emblem, definitely not something a common mercenary would wear.

Looking more carefully around the wagon interior, I noticed other inconsistencies.

The "merchant goods" were packed with excessive care, each crate lined with waterproof oilcloth of remarkable quality. One partially open container revealed not common textiles, but what appeared to be documents sealed with wax. Official correspondence, perhaps?

Lady Laelyn herself was another curiosity. For all her gentle demeanor and compassion, there were moments when she carried herself with an unconscious grace that spoke of formal training. The way the guards deferred to her seemed born of something deeper than mere employment.

Beric in particular moved with the disciplined bearing of formal military training, not the casual alertness of a caravan guard.

"Azure," I thought, keeping my face neutral, "are you noticing anything unusual about our benefactors?"

"Indeed, Master," he replied. "Their formation is unnecessarily sophisticated for simple road protection. The guards maintain precise distances and sightlines. And Lady Laelyn's hands – did you notice? No calluses or weathering typical of a merchant who handles goods regularly."

Of course.

I'd stumbled into one of those situations where nobility or someone important travels in disguise. It was a common enough trope —the hidden princess, the disguised minister, the secret heir traveling incognito to avoid assassins or political enemies.

But what unsettled me more was what Azure wasn't detecting.

"Can you sense any spiritual energy from them?" I inquired silently.

"None, Master. They register as ordinary mortals."

That could mean one of two things: either they were exactly what they appeared to be, mortal nobles playing at being merchants, or they possessed some heavenly technique that allowed them to conceal their energy signatures completely. I fervently hoped it wasn't the latter.

Regardless, I was already beginning to debate whether accepting their offer really was a good idea.

If they were hiding from something or someone, getting involved with them could potentially draw unwanted attention. The last thing I needed was to be caught in the middle of some noble's power struggle or escape plan when my priority was reaching the Blue Sun Academy.

Well, whatever it was, I just hoped it didn’t involve Skybound, Sun-touched, or Lightweavers.

Through the open back of the wagon, I watched the landscape roll by. The day was waning now, the red sun beginning its gradual descent toward the western horizon. In a few hours, it would set, leaving the blue sun dominant in the night sky.

The perfect time for pursuit if someone was indeed following this "merchant" caravan.

Turning my attention inward briefly, I checked on my essence levels, preparing for the possibility that I might need to make a hasty exit:

Soul Essence: 1500/2500

Spiritual Essence: 250/2000

Physical Essence: 25/3000

Not ideal, but workable if things went south. I allowed myself to relax marginally, but kept my senses alert.

As a distraction from my growing suspicions, I decided to check up on Yggy through our soul bond.

More fragmented images came through, but clearer this time. Elder Molric was speaking animatedly, gesturing at diagrams spread across a worktable. Yggy was absorbing this attention happily, its tendril-like appendages curled contentedly around a wine bottle it had claimed as its own.

The images brought a small smile to my lips. Despite choosing me over the elder, Yggy clearly still adored him.

“Master,” Azure’s voice cut through my thoughts.

“What is it?” I responded silently.

“We’re being followed.”