Without hesitation, Hadjar plunged his blade into the sand in front of him. Dropping to his knees, he bowed to the sword three times. Then, after running his hand over it, he summoned his own power and said:
“I swear that I’ll bow to the stele in the House of Blade Fury one day to ensure that my Master can rest in peace.”
The blood on Hadjar’s palm flashed with a blue light, and then slid back into the wound. A faint scar remained on his hand, one that wouldn’t disappear until Hadjar fulfilled his vow. And if he didn’t, his soul would be destroyed and he would disappear in the World River.
“What you just did was quite honorable,” the old man said. “I’m glad to see that my countryman made the right choice. Perhaps you’re even more worthless than the sand beneath our feet right now, but I believe that we’ll meet again someday. So, let me tell you my name. I’m Harlim.”
Just like that. The Immortal named Harlim. Nothing else.
“Now, you must excuse me, I need to get back to my work. Your friends will wake up in about two hours. Try not to reveal that you remember something that they don’t.”
With those parting words, the old man was about to leave, but then Hadjar bowed low again.
“I know I’m asking a lot, but would you let me take a look at your trophy?”
“My trophy?”
“The dragon’s body.”
"Oh, that. I want nothing from that coward but its first fang and core. You can keep the rest. Consider it a gift.”
Hadjar eyed the carcass and immediately refused. All he wanted to do was examine the dead dragon carefully, in the hope that, when the neural network finished rebooting, it would be able to use this new data to finally discern what kind of changes Traves’ heart had made to his body and energy.
Computing module is currently rebooting…
Approximate time until completion is…
“Since we’re going to be spending a bit more time together,” the old man began as his cheetah bit into the dragon’s body, “Could you tell me where you’re going in this accursed place, forgotten by the Evening Stars, and why?”
Chapter 360
Azrea popped up from beneath Hadjar’s turban. She stretched, slid down to his shoulder, licked his stubbly cheek, and then ran across the sand. When she caught up with the cheetah that was clawing the core out of the monster’s carcass, she meowed.
The spotted animal was distracted from his grisly work and looked down. At the foot of the mountain-sized body, a small, white lump of wool stood on the yellow sand. The cheetah snorted and went back to his business, but Azrea persisted. She meowed once again. This time, it was an angry meow. The cheetah looked up from his work once again, and Hadjar could’ve sworn he rolled his eyes. After this, the happy cub pounced on the fallen dragon like white lightning and joined in.
It was probably inadvisable for such a little creature to taste the dragon’s blood. Hadjar was about to get up from the sand to retrieve his furry companion when Harlim stopped him. The old man, who was smoking a long, spiral pipe, smiled and said: “Leave her be. Despite the fact that she’s a beast, she knows how to live better than we do. Animals, in general, always know better than us.”
Hadjar looked at the Immortal, then at the dead dragon, and sat back down. They were sitting on the crest of a small dune and watching the sun fighting for every inch of space. It was fighting against the black clouds and the lightning that flashed through them.
“So,” Harlim continued, “You’re looking for Mage City.”
“Have you heard of it?”
“Of course I have,” the old man nodded. “As you might’ve guessed, I once lived here. It was so long ago that your Kingdom…”
Seeing that the old man was deliberately pretending not to remember the name, Hadjar prompted him with a quick “Lidus.”
“That’s right, Lidus.” There was a gleam of amusement in his eternal eyes. Once a cultivator became a Spirit Knight, they acquired an absolute memory, let alone an Immortal. “Anyway, Lidus didn’t exist yet. But there were already legends about Mage City. It would seem that, shortly before I was born, two red comets streaked across the sky and thousands of adventurers went off in search of it.”
Harlim’s eyes were looking at the past. Fragrant smoke swirled above his head and graying hair. Hadjar wondered if he could have changed his appearance, or if he was stuck in an old man’s body forever.
“No one came back,” Harlim finished.
“Soon, the comets will once again converge on the horizon,” Hadjar said. He lit his pipe, too. He didn’t ask for some of Harlim’s tobacco, though he was curious about what the Immortal was smoking. However, the old man didn’t offer him any. “Aren’t you curious?”
“Curious?” Harlim asked in surprise, then laughed. “I’m sorry, young man, I forgot you aren’t from my country. Curious... Mage City can’t provide me with anything that would help me understand the Laws better.”
It was Hadjar’s turn to look surprised. “The Laws?”
Harlim just smiled and shook his head:
“Some knowledge should only come in due time. It’s too early for you to be thinking about the Laws. “
They sat in silence for a while. Hadjar watched Azrea eagerly tearing into the huge, dead dragon with her tiny claws. She did it without even thinking about it. Nearby, watching the tigress, lay the mighty cheetah. The power it radiated was beyond Hadjar’s comprehension.
By the gods, that beast was much stronger than Azrea’s mother had been.
“What about the elixir of the gods?” Hadjar inquired, to break the silence.
“I’m in no hurry to become a god,” Harlim answered. “I don’t believe there’s anything in this world you can get for nothing in return. Everything comes at a price, young man. The more valuable the thing you desire, the higher the price.”
Surprisingly, his words plunged Hadjar into the past. He saw the Royal Palace of Lidus, and Primus, covered in blood, standing in front of him. For decades, all he’d wanted was revenge on his parents’ killer. By the demons, the price had been higher than he’d been willing to pay.
“You have cracks in your heart, young man,” Harlim said, his voice sounding as if it were coming from underwater, “Try to heal them, or you’ll stumble on the path of cultivation. Your search for Mage City would be more fruitful if you started at the Stone Trees oasis.”
Hadjar emerged from his painful memories. He turned to thank the old man, but he wasn’t there. There was only a small, plain leather bag where he’d sat.
The yellow sand was slowly turning black once more, and the sun was hidden behind thick clouds. At the foot of the dune, the black sand devoured the dragon’s carcass. The body sank deeper and deeper into the sand. Hadjar watched in disgust as the sand tore chunks of flesh from the dragon’s bones and then crushed them.
Azrea, whose white nose was now red, snorted angrily and tottered toward Hadjar. When she reached her friend, she rubbed up against his legs, then jumped onto his shoulder and hid in his turban.
Five minutes later, there was no sign of the Immortal’s recent appearance: the titanic face in the middle of the desert was gone, the dragon’s body devoured, the sun was no longer visible, and the yellow sand had reverted to being black. It was now the same eerie Demon’s Heart with its red lightning bolts, black sand, and sky.