Chapter 51 - 46 : The Price Of Growth (3)

Chapter 51: Chapter 46 : The Price Of Growth (3)

On his way back, Ethan passed the dojo. He stopped. For several moments, he stood outside. He could hear the sound of wooden weapons striking inside. The same rhythm. The same corrections. The same repetition.

Ethan entered. The instructor noticed him almost immediately.

"You’re late."

"I wasn’t coming for a lesson."

The instructor raised an eyebrow.

Ethan walked closer.

"I came to say goodbye."

The instructor looked at him.

"Goodbye?"

"I’ll be leaving the city soon."

"For how long?"

"I don’t know."

The instructor nodded slowly.

"So you’ve decided to stop training here."

"Yes."

The man studied Ethan.

"You’ve learned the basics."

Ethan nodded.

"I have."

"But you haven’t mastered them."

"I know."

"Then why stop?"

Ethan thought about the question.

"Because I don’t need more explanations right now."

The instructor said nothing. Ethan continued.

"I need to use what I’ve learned."

The instructor looked at the short dao at Ethan’s waist. Then at Ethan himself.

"That’s a better reason than most people give."

Ethan smiled.

"I’ll probably make mistakes."

"You will."

"Then I’ll learn from them."

The instructor nodded.

"That’s what the dojo is supposed to teach you."

Ethan turned to leave.

"Ethan."

He stopped.

The instructor spoke again.

"Your strength is ahead of your technique."

Ethan looked back.

"I know."

"Don’t let that make you careless."

Ethan nodded.

"I won’t."

The instructor gave him one final look.

"Then go."

Ethan left the dojo. He did not look back immediately. When he finally did, the door was already closing. That was enough.

He had learned what he needed from the place. Now he needed to apply it.

By evening, Ethan was back at the stable. His horse lifted its head when he approached. Ethan smiled.

"You’ve been waiting."

The horse gave a quiet sound. Ethan checked its water first. Then its legs. Everything looked fine. He ran a hand along its neck.

"We’re leaving again."

The horse obviously did not answer. Ethan smiled anyway. He spoke to the stable keeper afterward.

"I may be gone for several days."

The man nodded.

"Long trip?"

"Possibly."

"Want me to keep the horse ready?"

"Yes."

The stable keeper gave him a price.

Ethan paid part of it.

Another expense.

He accepted it.

The horse was not a luxury. If he was leaving the city, it was part of his ability to move independently. He returned to his room before nightfall. Ethan placed the wooden token on the table. Beside it, he placed his journal. He opened to a fresh page. He did not write about Blood Tempering. There was no need.

He did not write about his recent experiments. That was not the problem in front of him anymore. Instead, he wrote:

Western trade route.

Then: Bandit group.

He paused.

Black Fang.

Below that: Several Body Tempering cultivators.

Possible fortified hideout.

Then: State-led operation.

Merchant involvement.

Family involvement.

Sect assistance.

He stopped. His eyes remained on the page.

The situation was more complicated than a simple group of bandits attacking travelers.

The trade route connected too many interests. That was probably why the city had allowed the problem to grow for as long as it had.

Everyone had been protecting their own piece. Now the problem had become large enough that they had to act together. Ethan closed the journal. He looked at the token again.

Three days.

That gave him time. He could cultivate.

Rest. Prepare his supplies. Check his horse.

And learn whatever else he could about the western route. He would not rush. The money was useful. The opportunity was useful. But the real value was elsewhere.

If the operation went well, he would leave the city with more than coins.

He would gain experience. He would see how cultivators worked together. He would see how a state authority handled a real threat. He would meet people from families he had never heard of. And, if the reports were true, he would finally witness someone from the next cultivation realm. That alone was worth paying attention to.

Ethan leaned back. His eyes moved toward the window. The city was quiet now. But it no longer felt like a place where he was simply passing through. For one thing, he had found a problem large enough to reveal how the city actually worked.

And he had found a place for himself inside it. Not as a hero. Not as someone important.

Just as a Body Tempering cultivator looking for work. That was enough.

For now.

The next morning, Ethan returned to the market. He did not go to the recruitment compound. He did not need to. Instead, he walked. He watched the western-bound merchants. He watched the guards. He watched which wagons carried more protection than others. He listened when people talked. He noticed which merchants seemed nervous when the western road was mentioned.

He asked simple questions when necessary.

Nothing suspicious.

Nothing excessive.

By midday, he had learned another useful detail. The attacks were not happening randomly. The bandits seemed to prefer the same stretches of road. Places where the terrain narrowed. Places where wagons could not easily turn around. Places where trees and hills limited visibility. That made sense.

A large group of bandits did not need to be stronger than an entire caravan. They only needed to choose the right place to attack.

Ethan stopped beside a merchant wagon. The driver was checking a wheel.

"You’ve used the western route?"

The man looked at Ethan.

"Many times."

"Where are the dangerous sections?"

The driver pointed. "The hills."

"Which part?"

"After the second bend."

"Why?"

"Because once you’re between those slopes, you can’t see what’s ahead."

Ethan nodded.

"And the bandits know that."

"They know everything."

The driver lowered his voice.

"That’s why some people think they have someone feeding them information."

Ethan’s expression remained neutral.

An informant. That would explain the repeated attacks. He thanked the man and continued walking. He did not write the information down immediately. He stored it in his mind first. Later, he would record it properly. That was another habit he had developed. Information was easier to understand after the pieces had settled.

By evening, Ethan had another decision to make. He could spend the next three days doing ordinary work. Or he could spend them preparing. The answer was obvious. He needed both. So he accepted one more short job.

It paid little.

But it was nearby. He completed it quickly. Then returned to his room. He ate. Rested. Cultivated. The session was different from the ones he had been doing before. Not because Blood Tempering appeared. It did not matter whether it did.

Ethan simply cultivated. His body absorbed the process. His breathing remained steady. The work was quiet. But something had changed over the past several weeks. The strain he once felt from basic cultivation had become more manageable.

His body recovered faster. His movements were cleaner. His strength had increased. He did not need to constantly check whether he had grown. The evidence appeared whenever he worked. When the cultivation session ended, Ethan remained seated.

He looked at his hands. Then he stood. No dramatic breakthrough came. No sudden revelation. Just a body that was slowly becoming stronger.

That was enough.

He packed his things afterward. Food. Water. Cultivation materials. The remaining recovery supplies. Traveler’s Strength Brew. His journal. His short dao. He checked everything twice. Then he looked toward the corner of the room. His horse would be ready. Three days. After that, he would leave.

That night, Ethan sat beside the window. The city lights stretched into the distance. Knowing that somewhere beyond them was the western road. Beyond that were hills.

And somewhere among those hills was a group of bandits who had become bold enough to interfere with the trade of an entire city.

Ethan had no personal reason to care about them. Not yet. But the situation had already become part of his path. He needed money.

They needed people. The city needed the road cleared. The arrangement was simple.

Ethan smiled faintly. Simple arrangements were often the easiest ones to trust.

He closed his journal.

Tomorrow, he would prepare. After that, he would leave the city. And he would not be traveling simply because he had nowhere else to go. He would be traveling because he had chosen a direction.