It had been almost a full day since his “execution” at the Feng Clan and, all things considered, Jon was feeling pretty all right. By virtue of inhabiting the body of a main character, he periodically stumbled upon various forms of sustenance during his moonlit hike. This included, but was not limited to: bioluminescent fruits, a spring filled with an impossibly delicious, translucent fluid, abandoned liquor barrels, and, last but not least, a thorny plant resembling a rose bush in all ways except for the fact that it sprouted polka-dotted eggs instead of flowers.
Jon decided to leave the suspicious egg-bearing plant alone, but he enjoyed whatever else he found that did not appear downright poisonous. Altogether, his migratory feasting satisfied him in ways that his cultivation session had not.
The sun was just beginning to crest the distant foothills. Jon patted his slightly bloated belly, evaluating the sight before him.
He had arrived at a fork in the road.
From the north, a road merged with the one he was traveling. If Jian Chen’s memory served, the Jian clan was located further to the east, while to the north was the Luo Kingdom’s capital city. As tempted as he was to divert course in the name of exploration, he had no idea how far that walk would be. He also sensed that transportation was going to be an ongoing problem in this world.
Snapping his gaze back to the road ahead, Jon arbitrarily concluded that he still had at least three days’ worth of travel remaining. That said, his feet were sore and his headache was returning. As the proud owner of a cultivation technique that could help him with both of these problems, Jon staked out a nice patch of grass at the foot of an impressively large boulder. Easing himself down into a sitting position, he tried to angle himself in the direction of the rising sun. A little challenging, since he had chosen a spot directly behind the large boulder, out of sight from the perspective of someone traveling down the road but also at an odd angle with the sun. Like this, he was prepared in case someone decided to start shooting arrows at him. Or… something. He did not really know what to expect from the people of this world, beyond what he had gleaned from novels, which on their own did not inspire much confidence in him.
He steadied his breathing. This being his second time cultivating, he got into the groove much quicker. It was not as difficult as the stories made it out to be, just repetitive. As he was getting the hang of it, he could spare some brain power to process his thoughts. There were some gaps in the chronology of recent events that had been nagging at him. First, under what circumstances did Jian Chen arrive at the Feng clan? Was he invited? Did he invite himself? Jian Chen’s memories were frustratingly vague on this point. Then there was the issue of transportation. As Jon was still in the process of discovering, it was no small distance between the two clans. The magnitude of this problem had not been obvious to him when he first set out due to the fact that Jian Chen had internalized the clans as “neighbors”.
The odds of someone of Jian Chen’s status traveling by foot were slim to none. There had to have been horses involved. Or blimps. Fantasy blimps.
There was also the question of how, exactly, the Feng clan managed to imprison him without word slipping out. Did Jian Chen not have any guardians with him? If he did, then where were they?
Jon’s conspiracy sense was not the only thing tingling. His bowels signaled to him that something was coming. Something big. Forcibly breaking his cultivation-induced trance, he glanced around for the sun, only to discover that it was hanging almost directly overhead. It was Noon. A gurgle from his nether regions sent him penguin-waddling over to a nearby bush. After suffering through a violent bowel movement, he cleaned himself up with “Nature’s TP”, or leaves, if one was a pedant. He was careful to avoid touching anything that looked like poison oak.
‘Ladies and gentlemen,’ He pulled his robes back on. ‘Your hero, who just shit in a bush.’
After a bit of scouting, he located a little creek about a stone’s toss from the road. It pooled in a small, rocky basin where he washed his face, then his hands. And in this case, order mattered.
The water was chilly, but refreshing.
Feeling light, clean, and re-energized, Jon hustled back to the road with the intention of continuing his journey. After only a few steps however, his ears perked and he looked to the north.
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Squinting his eyes, he saw a staggeringly large cloud of dust getting kicked up by whatever was approaching. Even as it got closer, he had a hard time understanding just what he was seeing. Covered wagons pulled by horses? Considering the level of technology in this world, that was the first thing he thought of. Only when the source of the dust cloud got closer did he realize just how fantasy this fantasy world really was.
Giant tortoises the size of dump trucks. Jon gave the road a wide berth out of consideration for their size, and for fear of being trampled. He considered waving, but what good would that do? If they wanted to stop, they would. He clutched one of the wooden swords strung around his neck, just in case.
The likelihood of a plot development bypassing him was small to begin with, so it did not surprise him when the Tortoises slowed their charge to a crawl before stopping not far from where he stood, rooted. It took him a few seconds to snap out of it; the sight of those colossal beasts of burden charging his way was just that astonishing. He also got a better look at them. In addition to the human riders up top, there were crates, trunks, and other containers secured around their hill-sized shells.
“Hail, traveler!” A voice called down to him and a ladder dropped, “If you are headed east then climb aboard! Jia Ming, branch supervisor of the Blackroot guild welcomes you!”
Jon could not resist the offer. Double-checking that his bag was secure, he jogged over and began his ascent. More than a question of strength alone, it was a test of his endurance. It took him a few minutes to make any headway, but the tortoise was simply massive, the shell alone rode at least twenty feet off the ground. Falling from that height would leave more than a few bruises. Near the top of the ladder, someone extended a hand to him, which he eagerly took; the arm pulled him the rest of the way in a single, effortless motion.
“Thanks for the lift.” Jon said, releasing his hold on the helping hand. The man grunted back, guiding him up the remaining few steps onto a platform lined with benches.
Jon was directed to a seat near the front. It was cushioned and clearly a cut above the wooden benches installed in the rows behind him. On Earth he might have been caught off guard by the random preferential treatment, but this was not Earth. Earth did not have giant tortoises. However, it did have slimy merchants like the one standing before him, right fist clasped in his left palm.
Jon’s body reacted on instinct. He rose from his seat and returned the gesture.
“Greetings, young man.” He said, smiling as he saw Jon reciprocate his greeting, “This lowly one is named Jia Ming. As you heard, I am a supervisor of the Blackroot Guild.”
‘—Branch office’ Jon added in his thoughts. “Jian Chen. Good to meet you.”
It was only after Jon sat back down that he realized how odd the whole interaction was. He had never greeted anyone in this way before, yet his actions suggested otherwise. Searching Jian Chen’s memories, he discovered that the clasped fist greeting was the standard in this world; it was analogous to shaking hands.
The only explanation Jon could come up with, was that Jian Chen’s body, his memories or a mixture of the two were exerting a greater influence on him than he originally assumed.
“Surnamed Jian?” Jia Ming stroked the black hairs of his beard, “Might you be related to the Jian Clan?”
“I am,” Jon said.
His eyebrows rose, “And your… clothing?”
Jon noted the suspicion in his voice. He decided to take a small gamble, “I was involved in an... incident on my last visit to the Feng clan. Fortunately, my robes were the only casualty…”
‘…That I am aware of,’ Jon thought of Jian Chen’s mysterious guardians.
Jia Ming’s eyes widened slightly, “The Feng clan?”
Jon silently watched the merchant calculate the plausibility of his claim.
“I see,” Jia Ming nodded. He turned and whistled. In response, the tortoise lurched forward. They were on the move. Jia Ming spun back around to face Jon, a wide smile playing at his lips. “In that case, consider us your guardians until you are safely returned to the Jian clan.”
Jon expressed his thanks.
With a flourish, Jia Ming excused himself to oversee the convoy.
Jon did not keep him, but he pulled his travel bag a little closer to his side. He would prefer that none of the goodies inside got exposed.
Now that he was free of Jia Ming, Jon had an opportunity to take in the sights. From where he sat, the boulder he had been cultivating behind all morning looked almost… cute. He turned his head to the north. the caravan was much larger than it appeared from the front. There were at least a dozen giant tortoises, each of them heavy with a combination of freight and people. Further back, a mishmash of horse-drawn carriages and wagons trailed along in the tortoise’s wake. At a glance, Jon estimated that there were at least a few hundred people present in the convoy.
Returning his gaze to the front of the gallery where he was seated, Jon suddenly felt his hair stand on end. For the first time since he entered this world, Jon experienced main-character pre-cognizance. He absolutely would not ignore it.
Very slowly, his eyes shifted to the left. A few seats over, a figure wrapped in a dark robe was staring at him. He was sure they were, but their eyes were hidden behind a full-face mask. The mask was white and featureless aside from two curved, sinister-looking eye-slits that looked more like they were painted on than carved out.
Most surprising of all, however, was the number hovering over their cloaked head:
379