I was lost.
I had shot out from the goblin city and curved through the woods, following the roads and gametrails as I wound down the Star Falling through the Void technique. The movement technique took so long to fully stop that I was sent far into the woods before it ended.
At least no troop of goblins was chasing me.
Trees towered around me, obscuring the sun. I looked toward the light, toward the direction moss grew on the trees, thinking that I could head back to Spearpoint.
Then I realized I didn’t actually know that the sun rose on the same side of the world here.
Searching around, I saw a tree off the path wider than the ones around it. Without a direction to head in, I decided to climb and scout out the area.
Bark and wood crumbled, soft beneath the press of my fingers. It was almost too easy. Like I was just a little bit stronger. I pulled myself up until I was above much of the canopy, flopping over onto a branch next to me. I took in a breath as I stared at the sprawling landscape. The canopy rose and fell with the hills in the landscape.
This place was an entire world separate from my own. I breathed deep, smelling the dozens of scents of the jungle on the wind. Then I leaned back, closing my eyes as I continued to drink the qi out of the air. It poured in through my skin, through my meridians, where my spirit roots separated out the ambient qi and left only the qi that matched my core.
A place free of clans and sects. Barely touched by politics this far on a continent hardly graced by men. A place free of the Grim Tempest, of the Feng, and of my father the Patriarch.
[Meditation has reached level 2!]
[You have reached level 20!]
[Attribute Points Available: 4]
“Only four levels!?” I shouted off the canopy.
The goblins I had killed this time had all been higher level, higher quality, and stronger. And I had killed a few dozen. Yet I only gained four levels again.
They must have been worth less with each additional kill. I sighed and stared out over the canopy. I couldn’t see Spearpoint from here.
But I could see a bird circling in the sky.
Sunlight danced off of hundreds of brilliant silver feathers, and its wingspan eclipsed any mundane bird I had ever seen. That was one of the Roc’s the Trailblazers were hunting without a doubt.
I had no interest in raising my standing in the organization, especially if I could only visit every few years. Neither did I have any in the silver or gold of their rewards. No; the value they provided came from the information they could provide.
They led me to beasts worth hunting.
I watched as the Roc dove into the forest with a scream. There was a distant whistle in the air as its feathers cut through the sky. It disappeared beneath the treeline. I leaned forward, eagerly studying my new enemy.
On spirit-beast hunts, knowing the behaviours of the beasts was core to defeating them. Often, the most powerful — or most delicious — of beasts had grown patterns to avoid predators.
To my surprise, the Roc shot back up out of the tree line, gigantic wings stirring the canopy around it. And it was carrying a tiny humanoid in its claws.
The goblin in the Roc’s claws wriggled ineffectually as the bird rose into the sky. After flying far above the treeline, it let out a cry as it circled back and dropped the goblin where it had picked it up.
At first, I thought it was hunting. But then it continued circling the sky. I observed it, wondering how many levels killing the monster would grant me.
Two? Four?
The Roc dove again into the tree line. I expected it to pick up what was left of the goblin.
Some birds would lift nuts high into the air before dropping them, cracking them on the ground below. That is what I had expected — pulling up a meal ready to eat.
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Instead, the Roc pulled up another screaming goblin before dropping it again.
“It’s leveling…” I whispered to myself. “It’s farming goblins.”
Is this why the bird was here? How many animals were like this — hunting and leveling? The spirit-beasts of the Bloodstone continent grew in power and intelligence with age and diet — feeding on lesser spirit-beasts to absorb their refined qi. The Roc was participating in nearly the same behaviour.
I wanted to rush off to confront the bird right away, but first, I needed to invest my attribute points. Willpower called to me. Every single point in it made cultivation easier. The rest of the power I could earn back by cultivating farther. But…
I couldn’t control the speed of the Anti-Light technique. It was a mix of not being able to control it and trying to process the immense amount of information as the world whipped by me.
But I didn’t know if a few points of agility would be worth it. I almost regretted not bringing Stef — or hunting down Poppy to ask her more questions.
Experimentally, I put two points into Agi and two into Int.
[Feng Sai][Level 20][Anti-Light Insurgent]
[Health: 100%][Spheres: 12]
[STR 23][CON 20]
[INT 14][WIL 17]
[AGI 22][PER 13]
[Cultivation:]
[Anti-Light Herald of the Last Storm] [5% Second Realm, Core Formation] [CON +10]
[Zones:]
[Slow][Accelerate][Carve]
[Skills:]
[Anti-Light Herald Martial Art X] [STR +10, AGI +10]
[Identification 3] [PER +3]
[One Cut, One Kill 3] [STR +3]
[Meditation 2] [INT +2]
The effect was instant. The world became sharper.
[Intelligence is a measure of the ability to process Information.]
I slipped down the tree, sliding from branch to branch before taking a harsh leap to the ground.
Then I focused, shaping the Anti-Light movement technique once more. Before, I hadn’t had nearly enough control to try to dive through the trees. I needed to experiment and see exactly how much two points of agility and intelligence could affect me.
The world moved around me. Then the trees accelerated; they would have been a blur before, but they were almost managable now. I turned faster and more easily, shooting over foliage off the path. Twigs and branches snapped, slowing me but not stopping me as I shot toward where I had seen the bird.
I could clean up the tiny patch of goblins while I was at it, too.
It only took a few minutes to shoot through the healthy treeline and into part of the forest that had been burned away. From atop the tree, I hadn’t been able to see the opening in the treeline.
A group of goblins surrounded an ornate wooden wagon. Steam poured out of it and into the sky. A dozen dead goblins litered the ground, splattered across the meadow from the force of the fall. The burnt remains of trees stabbed out of the ground, thin and blackened, but flowers and grass grew all around them.
The goblins shielded their eyes or faces from the sky, holding up crude and makeshift shields. A few lurked underneath the wagon.
“You have to get out of here!” A man shouted from atop the wagon. “There’s a Roc in the sky!”
As if to punctuate it, the Roc cried out, dropping a goblin back down to the earth. It hit another one of the goblins on the ground, splattering the both of them. A dozen rocks were launched from goblin slings, but none hit the massive bird. I grimaced.
I would have to kill the monster while it was descending. I debated between killing the goblins or the Roc first. The monster definitely seemed to prefer the goblins to the man. The Roc cawed triumphantly in the air, circling as if picking out which target to dive next.
“That’s why I’m here.” I said, looking over to the man. None of the goblins made any move toward me, all staring at the Roc. Some sent longing glances to the forest’s edge, but none broke to run under the canopy. The goblin corpses far from the wagon offered enough of an explanation as to why. They were all trapped here as the bird picked them off one by one.
The man on the wagon fiddled with a metal contraption of tubes that leaned over the back of the wagon. The entire construct was fitted with dozens of pipes, one of which had burst open and was shooting steam into the sky. A mechanism on the wagon spun half heartedly. I spammed [Identify.]
[Flynt’s Wicked Wagon, Level 11]
That was the highest level I had ever seen an object at. And as for who Flynt was…
[Flynt, Level 46 Engineer]
“Are you a Trailblazer? Do you have [Heat Resistance?]” Flint shouted out.
“Is the bird not attacking you because you’re level 46?” I asked. “Can’t you kill all these monsters with ease?”
By my estimates, level 50 should have been about equal to a pinnacle Core Formation realm cultivator. Flynt shouldn’t have any trouble with the goblins or the Roc.
“It’s a non-combat class!” Flynt shouted as he banged on the side of whatever machine he was working on.
I identified it.
[Flynt’s Gatling Gun, Level 4(Prototype)]
Flynt looked around, then pointed a wrench into a box that had fallen off his wagon.
“Grab that, please, and bring it to me if you would!” Flynt said. “I’ll bring the bird down!”
I debated it before deciding to help. I was curious what a level 46 was doing alone in the woods, and how he could bring down the bird but couldn’t even kill the goblins.
With my sword out, I approached the box. The goblins scattered back from me, grunting and waving their weapons. The Roc screeched above. I picked up a box, grunting with effort as I held it under my left arm, then circulated qi to throw myself up onto the wagon.
I landed with a grunt.
The entire top of the wagon was covered in boxes and goods besides a seat at the front. Even more ridiculously, there was a steering wheel on the front — like a boat.
Flynt’s hand shot back, opening the tiny chest I was holding without looking at me. He grabbed a handful of the metal hexagons inside and continued to work on his Gatling Gun.
“Aha!” He said, then started to crank a lever on the side even as he turned and pointed the tubes on the end at the Roc circling above. Then, he shouted, “I’ll teach you to damage my inventions!”
Then a series of explosions started inches away from me. I had to stop my sword mid-swing at Flynt’s back — he didn’t even turn to face me. Instead he was laughing at the device he cranked erupted in a burst of explosions, pops of fire and smoke shooting projectiles into the sky right as the Roc dove for another goblin!