[The martial elder warns you to focus on cultivation methods and not to pursue martial arts…]

They walked in silence after Master Brightflame finished his lecture. While his simulated self brooded over the words of the martial elder, Lem returned to his meditation on the [Mountain Sitting Technique].

At the moment, all he could do was think about the technique. It was impossible for him to put any of his ideas into practice. However, once he regained control of his body, the insights he had accumulated would accelerate his early cultivation progress.

The forest floor slowly became muddy, and Lem’s simulated self began to see the occasional light fly flickering through between tree branches.

The vegetation began to change, and he could hear the burbling of water again.

Meanwhile, Lem came in and out of meditation, surveying his bodily sensations every so often as a matter of habit.

It was easy for him to notice certain changes that his simulated self was blind to, as his mind was free from external influence.

Lem’s simulated self continued to watch his step, carefully to avoid any muddy patches, but he was less nervous than he had been the first time he had walked along the riverside.

After all, now he had a cultivator to protect him.

The river came into view from in between the trees.

Seeing the rushing water again, Lem still could not help but feel awe. The sheer power combined with the pleasant rippling movement made the forest come alive.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

Master Brightflame appeared unimpressed.

This was in line with Lem’s expectations. After all, the martial elder had likely lived near the river for many decades already.

Lem was suddenly reminded of the long lives of cultivators.

According to the [Mountain Sitting Technique], a Second Stage Martial Master could have a lifespan of more than 500 years.

It was possible that Master Brightflame had spent hundreds of years seeing Lang River every day.

It was no wonder that the sight would no longer evoke any emotions in him.

As they turned and began walking along the mossy riverbank, Lem’s simulated self kept the same buffer of a few meters from the edge that he had when he had followed the river to Lang Town.

It was interesting for him to see that Master Brightflame followed his lead without comment.

[You reach the river, and together, you begin traveling along its banks…]

After a few minutes passed by, Lem’s simulated self asked another question, breaking Lem out of his meditation.

“Why did you call me a slave of the Goliath before?”

Master Brightflame paused. “There is an evil that has been named the Blood Bone Goliath. It operates throughout the Northern Province. As for the specific details of its features, little is known. The immortals of Star Palace do not have a habit of sharing such information.

“When the Goliath infects an immortal directly, they become a slave of his will, often without realizing it until much later. Of course, most of the infected are weak, and are not directly infected by the Goliath, but those that are directly infected…they are troublesome to root out and deal with, even for the immortals.

“In any case, the immortals do not care about making distinctions. In order to encourage the world to report and kill any infected immortals, they make a habit of calling all of the infected ‘slaves.’ This practice was passed down from Star Palace to the sects, and from the sects to the martial schools.

“Of course, neither you nor I will ever need to care about such things. The world of immortals is so far above me that I don't even know the realm of the Goliath or even that of the Star Envoys that combat it.

“And if that is my standpoint as an elder, you need to care even less. The Goliath would never stoop to infect someone of my lowly stature. As for you, there isn’t the slightest chance that it even knows of your existence.”