Rahaim exhaled some smoke, and it took the forms of a dragon, knights, and even the sun.
“I had a vision that one day, a dragon would come and devour the sun. I thought it had something to do with Serra and her homeland, but the girl always told me I was wrong…”
Hadjar sat across from the man whose son he had killed. However, he didn’t feel at all guilty. If anything, Rahaim was the one responsible for his death.
“I see that you condemn me for my actions... Maybe you’re right to do so. I’m a fool. I didn’t realize that a golem, no matter how good it was, was only a poor copy. At a critical moment, he made the wrong choice.”
“But you could’ve gone after him! You were a Lord. Your power was enough-”
“Enough to do what, Darkhan?” Rahaim’s eyes narrowed. “I’m a Lord, but I’m only at the initial stage. My life is coming to an end. In the Empire, I might not be seen as cannon fodder, but the rumors you’ve heard are all false, Hadjar. Just to give you a little insight into how vast this world truly is — in the Empire, a Lord at the initial stage is held in the same esteem as a senior officer is in Lidus.”
That bit of news didn’t really shock Hadjar, it only confirmed his assumptions.
“But enough about me. You’ve come here to learn about the true path of cultivation, and I’m ready to teach it to you.”
The Sage held out his index finger, and before Hadjar could react, a flash of light shot through his mind. He suddenly saw himself floating above the World River. It suffused everything: matter, all of the ephemeral existences, such as the soul, space, or even time. It was truly omnipresent.
Suddenly, Hadjar realized that he had simply been absorbing the bestowed energy all this time. However, if the World River truly was one with everything, it was part of him as well, and instead of just absorbing and using it from within, he could control its external manifestations as well.
Hadjar waved his hand, trying to form a stream of wind in front of him, but immediately experienced such a searing pain that he instantly passed out. It took five minutes for him to regain consciousness.
“I thought as much,” Rahaim said. “The first time I saw you in person, here in the Pit, I felt an imbalance in your spirit. I don’t know when it happened or why, but your soul, Hadjar, is not whole. The fact that you became a true cultivator before you had knowledge of the true path only added to it. I’m afraid you’re incapable of using the true path of cultivation.”
“The true path,” Hadjar snorted, rubbing the back of his head. “Fuck that shit!”
“I understand your skepticism,” the Sage smiled. “Those who begin cultivating with inner energy are always outwardly stronger than those who use the outer energy. But I’ll tell you this much: only one who merges the two energies, combining both paths, can reach the level of the Lord. That’s why we’re called Lords, we are masters of our own power, not borrowing it or limited by it.”
Hadjar was upset. The Lord level seemed like an unattainable pinnacle to him right now, but in his heart, he hoped that, one day, he would be able to…
“Don’t despair.” The Sage picked up a stick and a jug. He poured water on the sand, and then traced a winding path in the muddy sand. “Sometimes, the one who follows a new path reaches the goal earlier than the one who follows the well-trodden route.” He moved the stick a second time, drawing a straight line that brought the water to its destination much sooner than the winding one.
“What do you mean, Rahaim?”
“There are no legends in this world, and believe me, I know a lot of them, but even so... there are no legends that tell of a man with an incomplete soul.”
Well, Hadjar wasn’t one to boast about his uniqueness. Especially when that uniqueness was akin to a disability.
“Thanks for the lesson.” Hadjar nodded and got up.
“Stay, General. Become my disciple. Together, we can-”
“No thanks,” Hadjar said curtly, “I don’t respect you.”
Rahaim’s eyes flashed for a moment, but then his anger turned into resignation.
“And yet, I haven’t fulfilled our bargain. A reward has been promised in exchange for your adventure.”
Hadjar had no doubt that the medallion which Ramukhan had never taken off and had given to Paris as soon as they’d arrived was a spatial artifact. According to Einen, he’d been unconscious long enough for the sorcerer and the witches to delve into the books and scrolls. Shakh kept his mouth shut. He hadn’t spoken to them at all in the two months they’d spent in Underworld City.
“I know you’re looking for information about the Land of the Immortals.”
Hadjar arched his right eyebrow.
“Paris told me what books you took. Don’t blame him. He acted on my direct order. I also know you want to join a school in the Empire. I’ve lived a long life, Hadjar, a very long life, and I’ve have managed to cultivate many good acquaintances. Among them is a master at the ‘Holy Sky’ school. It’s the best school in the Empire. It’s located in the capital. I’m sure you’ll find information about the Land of the Immortals there. After all, their library is so vast that even the library of Mage City seems insignificant in comparison.”
“Thank you.”
“I could write you a letter of recommendation, but, alas, they are very strict about who they will accept into the school. Only those who have reached the level of a true cultivator before the age of sixteen are eligible to take part in the examination.”
Hadjar’s heart skipped a beat. Without a recommendation letter, he would only be allowed to take part in the examination of ordinary disciples. But with it, it was possible to become a disciple of the inner circle.
“Well, write two letters, then, for me and Einen.”
With those parting words, he turned and walked away. He knew the islander had a secret as well. His inhuman, purple eyes were definitely a sign of something more lurking beneath the surface. Passing the age test wouldn’t be much of a problem for either of them.
***
Dora Marnil, the daughter of the Patriarch of the ‘Green Hammer’ sect, watched in amazement as two men played in the mud, right in front of the gates of the Empire’s most famous school.
It was finally raining after four dry months in the Empire. People were glad to see the rain, but still hid under canopies and umbrellas. Only these two strangers were running around in the mud and kicking a leather ball around like a pair of lunatics. Both were bronze-skinned, but they weren’t desert dwellers, rather, they were too tanned. One was bald, with narrow eyes, and the other had a handsome face and black hair with talismans woven into it. They rejoiced in the rain and rolled around in the mud, laughing.
Dora turned away. It was disgusting! Why weren’t the guards doing anything? Suddenly, she felt somebody’s gaze on her. The one with the black hair was staring at her.
“What’s the matter?” Einen asked Hadjar.
“By the High Heavens, is that an elf?”
“I’m surprised you’ve even heard of them, my friend.”