Chapter 82 - 63 : The trail (1)

Chapter 82: Chapter 63 : The trail (1)

Ethan remained still.

The two presences continued to approach through the rain. His hand stayed over the short dao at his waist as he listened to the steady rhythm of water striking the broken roof. He didn’t know who they were, and after what had happened, that was enough to keep him alert.

The first figure eventually appeared beyond the curtain of rain.

A man, perhaps in his forties, appeared beyond the curtain of rain. He was of average height and build, with a weathered face that carried little that stood out. His black hair was tied loosely behind his head, though the rain had already soaked several strands loose around his temples. Water ran from the edge of his brow and along his jaw before disappearing into the collar of his robe.

He wore a plain gray-brown outer robe over a darker inner garment, the cloth darkened in places where the rain had soaked through. A simple belt held it closed around his waist, with a small travel pouch hanging from one side. His clothes were worn but practical, showing the sort of wear that came from spending more time on the road than beneath a proper roof.

A sword rested across his back, its worn scabbard beaded with rain. He stopped beneath the temple’s ruined eaves and finally found some shelter from the downpour. Water dripped from his robe onto the stone as he looked inside.

Ethan watched him carefully. There was no Azure Cloud Sect emblem, no standardized robe, nothing that immediately connected him to the sect. Some of the tension in Ethan’s shoulders eased, though his hand remained near the short dao. Not being one of the sect’s disciples didn’t make the man harmless. It simply meant Ethan had one less reason to expect trouble.

The man’s eyes eventually settled on Ethan.

His gaze lingered for a moment, taking in the torn clothes, the dried blood, and the dao at Ethan’s waist. Ethan met his eyes without saying anything. The man didn’t look away immediately either, as if trying to decide what kind of person had taken shelter in the same ruined temple.

Neither moved.

Then the man’s gaze shifted away.

After a moment, the cultivator stepped inside. He kept his distance and chose a relatively dry section of the temple. Ethan’s attention returned to the entrance. The second presence was almost here.

An old man emerged from the rain.

His hair and beard were almost completely white, both dampened by the rain and clinging loosely around a weathered face. A long scar ran from the edge of his forehead, across one side of his face, and down toward his jaw. The skin had healed unevenly, leaving the scar raised and segmented in places, almost like the body of a pale centipede beneath the skin.

It was the kind of scar that made Ethan wonder what had caused it. The old man wore a simple dark-gray robe, plain and practical, with a worn sword hanging at his waist. Nothing about his appearance was particularly imposing, yet there was something about the way he carried himself that made Ethan’s attention sharpen.

As the old cultivator came close enough for Ethan’s senses to reach him clearly, he felt the difference immediately. The man’s vitality was considerably denser than the middle-aged cultivator’s. It wasn’t simply a matter of Qi. There was something heavier in the blood within his body.

Ethan couldn’t determine his exact cultivation stage. His understanding of Qi Refining simply wasn’t deep enough.

Early?

Middle?

Late?

Perhaps even higher?

He couldn’t tell. But the difference was clear. The old man’s presence carried a weight that the other cultivator simply didn’t have. His vitality felt deeper, denser, as though there was far more strength beneath the surface than Ethan could properly measure. He couldn’t put an exact cultivation stage to it. He only knew that he would rather not find out what the old man was capable of.

Ethan kept watching as the old cultivator entered the temple. The man showed no hostility. He merely glanced around before choosing a place against the opposite wall.

Ethan’s gaze lingered on him for another moment.

Then he looked toward the entrance. The rain still fell beyond the ruined eaves, but neither of the two men had come with anyone else. No movement followed them through the curtain of rain.

His hand slowly eased away from the short dao.

Neither man wore the robes of the Azure Cloud Sect. Neither had approached him, and beyond the brief glances strangers naturally gave one another, neither had shown any particular interest in him. Perhaps they really were only seeking shelter.

The rain outside gave them little reason to remain exposed.

For a while, the three men said nothing.

The middle-aged cultivator sat with his back against the wall while the old man closed his eyes. Ethan watched them for another moment before returning to his place beside the fire, still keeping them within his peripheral vision.

The silence stretched on.

It was almost peaceful.

Almost.

After some time, the old man’s eyes opened. His gaze passed briefly over Ethan’s clothes, the torn fabric, the dried blood, the signs of a journey that had gone badly.

The old man’s gaze settled briefly on Ethan again.

"Young friend, looks like you’ve had a rough day."

Ethan glanced down at himself. He hadn’t paid much attention to his appearance since escaping the river. Now that he did, he understood the remark.

"It’s been a long one."

The old man gave a quiet hum and nodded. He didn’t press further.

Ethan said nothing more and turned his attention back to the fire.

The middle-aged cultivator remained silent as well. As rain continued to fall and the minutes passed, the steady sound slowly wore down his alertness.

The steady sound slowly eased his alertness. His body was already tired, and the warmth of the fire only made it harder to stay awake. And his eyelids grew heavier. He closed them for a moment, intending to open them again.

They didn’t.

When Ethan opened his eyes again, the first thing he noticed was the light.

The rain had stopped sometime during the night. Pale morning sunlight slipped through the gaps in the broken roof, falling across the stone floor in thin, uneven patches. The air was cool, carrying the clean smell of wet earth from outside. Water still dripped from the roof now and then, breaking the quiet that had settled over the temple.

Ethan remained still for a moment. His gaze moved toward the place where the old man had been sitting.

Empty.

He looked toward the other side of the temple. The middle-aged cultivator was gone as well. There was nothing left to show that either man had been there except a few disturbed patches of dust near the walls.

Ethan’s eyes narrowed slightly. He had actually fallen asleep with two strangers sharing the same shelter. That had been careless.

He let the thought pass without dwelling on it. Nothing had happened, but that didn’t make the decision any less careless. Ethan slowly rose and looked toward the entrance. Only damp earth and the occasional drop of water falling from the roof remained.

He stood.

There was nothing left to suggest that either cultivator had been anything more than two strangers seeking shelter from the rain. Ethan had been right to stay cautious. He had simply let that caution slip too far.

He adjusted his clothes and stepped outside.

Cool air met him, carrying the damp smell of the forest. Water still clung to the leaves, and drops fell whenever the branches shifted overhead. Ethan paused briefly beneath the trees and looked toward the road before continuing.

The previous night’s events remained in the back of his mind for a while, but there was little point dwelling on two cultivators who had already gone their separate ways. His attention returned to the problem ahead.

The Azure Cloud Sect.

He still didn’t know how far the sect’s influence reached or how much of what had happened had already spread. Until he had a better idea, there was little reason to make himself easy to find.

Ethan followed the road for a while before leaving it. Once he was far enough from the usual path, he turned into the wilderness, where there were fewer people to notice him and fewer reasons for anyone to ask questions.

At one point, he found another secluded spot and stopped to replenish his Living Blood. He refined the blood quietly, letting the process restore reserve. When he finished, Ethan felt considerably more prepared to continue. Physically, he was in the best condition he’d been in since the escape.

His problem was elsewhere.

He needed a proper technique. The fight had made that much clear. His cultivation could support him, and his speed had kept him alive, but when it came to actually using his strength against another cultivator, he had little to rely on beyond his own body and the short dao at his waist.

He could work something out eventually. The problem was finding the time to do it. He couldn’t remain in one place indefinitely.

Eventually, the forest began to thin.

Ahead, Ethan noticed several stalls and tents along the road. Travelers and cultivators moved between them, while the simple structures stood on rough ground with little more than wood, cloth, and rope holding them together.

Ethan slowed.

Nothing about the place looked permanent. It seemed built to be taken down just as easily as it had been put up.

He kept his distance and watched for another moment.

Ethan let his Blood perception spread through the gathering. Most of the people he sensed were at Body Tempering, but a few stronger presences stood among them.

Qi Refining cultivators.