The DAO system store had options that I could spend comprehension points on; I gained comprehension points with every level gained on my travel.

Supplementary technique’s wouldn’t advance my cultivation realm, but they could enhance my cultivation path, working alongside it. A Mind Refinement Technique was typically cultivated before the formation of the Second Core. They weren’t strictly necessary; the cultivation path I had already spent tokens on already gave me a baseline.

There was one cultivation technique compatible with both my spirit-root and cultivation path; [Storm’s Crucible.]

Like with my previous purchase, it physicalized as a token in my hand. I still hadn’t broken it yet. I slept for a few hours after a long bath and a hearty meal. And then I had to leave the Feng territory behind.

We rode north across the sand-roads as soon as I woke.

Monstrous spirit-beasts pulled our wagon across the sand. Two sand colored spirit-camels grunted as they stamped through the desert. The world blurred outside. Our wagon was on a sled being pulled across the sand. It would only last until we reached the edge of my own territory to the north and entered my brother’s.

“How long until our arrival, Wen?”

“Up to two weeks.” Wen said, leaning forward across the wagon. “We will trade out the wagons to mounts and head west to the jungle. There is a lawless city outside of the Feng Territory there, filled only with cultivators. ”

“What? On the edge of the Feng territory?” I looked up and away from the token, shock overtaking my features. “An entire city of rogue cultivators? Does the Patriarch know?”

If father knew, I was confident he would rally a force to stamp them out.

“Of course he does. He is one of their biggest funders.” Wen saw the look on my face and continued. “Storm’s Edge is a city of outlaws trapped right where the storm breaks. The natural formation over the western mountain range means endless rain. The small sects there raid the many ruins left behind throughout the mountain range, plundering scraps.

“That makes their enchanters and smiths uniquely capable of making equipment to navigate the region. We will stop there and purchase equipment and mounts to traverse the jungle.” Wen informed me.

I nodded along.

There was a pin prick trickle of qi flowing from my Dantian directly into the egg in my hand. Even when I didn’t hold Littlebird’s egg, I felt the connection between us.

I would have an entire day to feed that connection, replenish my own still half spent qi reserves, and practice the mind technique. I would need to find time to catch sleep on the road as well.

I crushed the mind token in my hand. There was a pulse of something on the world. Wen seemed to notice it, staring down at it.

I still hadn’t asked him why he had set off my danger sense. I was afraid of what he would answer with.

The mental cultivation technique settled into my mind with a series of flashing images. None of them were as harsh as the Anti-Lightning Herald Dao, which gave me headaches just to recall in memory. Instead, the memories that flooded me as if they were my own were of me standing atop a mountain peak.

[Mind Refinement Technique Learned]

[Storm’s Crucible added to known cultivation]

[Mastery: 0%, Stage 1]

[Progress through Stage 4 to earn all benefits]

A storm boiled around me, it’s edges constantly threatening to come closer. Lightning flashed in the distance, peppering the wild jungles in the treeline below me. The image felt like a pile of bricks atop my mind. I lapsed in concentration and it popped away.

The cultivation technique was simple to grasp and hard to execute. The entire image was the technique; a single moment built out of a pile of visualizations.

It was composed of pieces of images that I held within my mind, arranging myself to align with their meaning. First I formed the wall of storms, an isolating wall separating me from the world. The image consumed my focus, a raging tempest of images that looked almost random but were composed of myriad quiet meanings.

Then I formed the forest below, the lightning striking it in a quiet rhythm, a pattern only noticeable in the stillness of long, quiet reflection. Next the mountain peak, and the image of myself atop it. Pieces of the image slipped from my grasp, forcing me to stop and rebuild them over and over.

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

Like working out a muscle, the technique of holding the mental image would develop my mind. I could feel myself straining against the edge of my [Meditation] skill. I needed to push my skills harder and further to continue leveling them, and to understand them better. So I pushed my concentration even further.

With half of my concentration, I pulled in the tiny wisps of available qi around us, and with the other, I focused on rebuilding the [Storm’s Crucible.]

“Heads up.” Wen said. I opened my eyes just long enough to catch the spirit-stone he tossed into my hand.

Spirit-stones were both currency and raw power in the form of stone.

“Thank you, Wen.” I said, beginning to absorb the unattributed qi directly into my palm. A trickle of power flowed down the meridian in my arm and into my core.

The life of a cultivator was isolating. The rest of our ride proceeded in silence. We only stopped twice to let the spirit-camel eat and drink. They needed no sleep; powerful beasts retained and raised by the Feng clan to transport material across the desert before I installed the roads of connected water gathering formations.

I gained a few hours of sleep when I could no longer hold even a semblance of the Mind Refinement technique in my head. It took almost two days to cross the desert. The spirit-beasts didn’t need to rest, possessed of supernatural speed and endurance.

My effort had been rewarded.

[Meditation reached level 6!]

Eventually, the desert turned to sprawling grasslands, and the roads disappeared. The wild grass here overtook most attempts to claim them, and this route was rarely traveled by mortal traders, due to the danger of roaming so far in the Feng wilderness.

A line of wagons and carts lined their way out of the city. Farmers and traders brought goods to the gates, waiting for inspection and tax in line.

The walls stood, gigantic aged edifices of stone that towered into the sky larger than any building in Sandgrave.

The Jade Meadow city was a major center of trade, built in a sprawling grassland.

Our sled-wagon being pulled by the two beasts of burden bore the insignia of the primary Feng Family. We didn’t wait in the line. We walked passed the laborers and traders and farmers, directly to the gate. We stopped for just long enough for Wen to lean his head out of the window and whisper his name and who was in the carriage with him.

The guards offered a clasped fist salute. Another ran off to send a message to the mayor.

“Let’s leave before they try to throw a feast.” I said, staring out into the street. The metal sled on the bottom of the carriage scraped along the ground.

“Agreed.” Wen said. “I’ll send the wagon forward. The camel’s know their way home.”

We slid out of the wagon. It brought back old memories; the first time Wen had introduced me to the realities of life for mortals in the cities, this was almost exactly how we had arrived at the city’s edge. This time, however, we continued down the streets toward the center of the city.

“How do the cities in the other world compare?” Wen asked, making idle talk as we continued down the street.

“Poorly.” I said. “Spearpoint’s wall is only half as high as Jade Meadow City, and in bad need of repair. Less populous, too. The entire continent is barely colonized Wilderness.”

“Ruled over by spirit-beasts, then?”

“Of a sort.” I replied. “They do not exactly have spirit-beasts. I encountered a man-like monster on my last trip warring with others. Similar to beast-hordes. Less impressive.”

On the street all around us, people parted out of our way or avoided us. There were very few cultivators on the street; most of those here were mortals. That was no surprise.

The Jade Meadow City mostly exported grain to the other cities around it. The sprawling flat land around it was great for farms. A river ran beneath the city, irrigated away.

I wondered if Feng Jin had ever walked on his own streets here. Most cultivators didn’t care about their cities other than the taxes they earned. The citizens showed me a mix of respect and fear.

But mostly fear.

I grimaced at it. Cultivators, one and all, looked down on mortals. Would it be the same in the populous cities of Illyria, where Poppy hailed from?

I wanted to see that continent.

Wen led me to a Feng Family compound. Low realm cultivator guards offered clasped fists to us as we entered. They had prepared mounts and supplies.

“What is that?” I asked, shocked by the smell of the animal. It was a boar covered in waxy hair. There were two of them, each one as tall as I was.

“Come here, girl.” Wen said, falling to a knee. He produced a chunk of meat from his spirit ring. It immediately started dripping onto the floor. The two boars rushed forward, but one was quicker, snapping up the meat. Wen petted her head.

The other, having missed its chance at a treat, turned and rushed toward me. A gigantic, abrasive tongue licked my face and knocked me backward. Spirit-beasts, without a doubt.

“Ack!” I shouted, trying to push the animal back. A gigantic nose sniffed me before determining I had no food and stepping back. It left a waxy coating on my hands.

“The terrain to the west is too rough to bring wagons. We will have to carry everything in bags. Are the clothes prepared?” Wen said, shouting up to the steward of the house.

The man stepped forward and bowed.

“Bows and arrows for hunting, bags of supplies, clothes for the endless storm… and the ring.”

“The ring?” I asked, looking between Wen and the steward.

“Bring the ring.” The steward raised his voice. A sliding door parted, two cultivators bringing a hand carved wooden box and presenting it to me. It popped open.

“It can only hold a square foot of material. I couldn’t acquire a better one in such a short timeframe.” Wen said. He was still patting the spirit-boar. “What’s her name?” He asked the attendant.

“I don’t believe she has one.” The steward said with a shallow bow.

Even my butler was respected here, at an estate owned by a branch family.

“I think I’ll name her Tiny.” The boar licked Wen. “You like that one?”

I must have gotten my poor naming sense from him.

The spatial-storage ring in the center of the room was the only thing I could focus on. Both guards still stood reverently, waiting for me to take it. None seemed phased by Wen’s irreverence. I stepped forward and took the ring with reverence. The calm callousness with which Wen had passed it off to me alarmed me.

It must have cost as much as the monthly income generated by this entire city.

“Thank you.” I said, staring down at the ring.

“We will need every advantage we can get.” Wen said. His voice was serious. “A night of sleep here, then we ride west.”