"Welcome to the Boiling Crystal Mine. The one and only resource point of our Nefarious Sword."

Below them was a giant crater where dirty, ragged norms clumped like a sea of ants. Some of them climbed the fragile wooden stairs that were placed on every wall. One or two of them would fall to their death occasionally. It reminded Elaith that the norm was weak and should serve the cultivators as their master. As for how things should be.

The norm dug out the spiritual crystal in the crater and threw them inside a bucket-shaped bag that was made with sticks and twigs. They used their dirty hands to pick these important crystals. It made Elaith angry just by looking at them.

At the edge of the cliff, where the stairs led to, a few cultivators stood in post. They seemed to be the ones who were tasked to guard and oversee the norm. And beside every cultivator was a wagon where the skinny, fragile, dirty norm would take a small piece of hard bread for themselves. They were only allowed to eat if the cultivator guarding the wagon allowed them. Those who didn't bring enough spiritual crystal were directly kicked to the crater. Whether they would survive the fall was not anyone's concern.

This was how things should be. This was the true place for the norm.

"What do you think of the place, Elaith," Laeroth asked. He seemed to feel bad to not giving Elaith the promised sword, but Elaith truly did not need it.

Laeroth probably found that sword in his travel. It was an important artifact for every cultivator that had gone through a journey. Elaith couldn't possibly have the heart to take it from his senior brother.

"This place is beautiful, senior brother. Sadly, those norms ruined it for me."

"Haha. I also think the same. But they're too useful to be removed."

"I understand, senior brother. It's good a place like this exists. We can remind the norm that this is where they truly belong."

Elaith and the others approached one of the wagons. He winced when a nasty odor pierced his nose. When was the last time these norms cleaned themselves? Disgusting. They should be cleansed with fire. In fact, he could do it now. With his new power, he could burn them and let them scream!

He looked at the norm. Their body was very malnourished. Bones seemed about to burst out of their skin. Something crawled under their skin and Elaith saw something wiggled inside their eyes. Narrowing his sight, Elaith tried to take a closer look. For the peaceful soul of the swordmaster! Those were worms!

Elaith took a step back. How dirty! How disgusting! These norms let themselves be infested with worms? He would never touch them. He wouldn't even use his power to touch them.

How could the ones who were tasked to stay here deal with this? Elaith turned to the side and noticed that the swordsmen were actually standing a distance away from the wagon. Most of them were. Some seemed to be used by this and stood beside the wagon, kicking a norm or two when they didn't bring enough spiritual crystal.

Elaith wouldn't even kill them with his blade. What if their blood dirtied his sword? He had to throw it away if that happen.

A norm took off his bag and poured out the spiritual crystal beside the wagon. Maybe someone would move that crystal later. Wait! These crystals were touched by these dirty norms. Didn't that mean all this time had touched what they touched?! Looking at his hands, Elaith had a split moment of an urge to cut them off and regrow them.

He shook his head and turned his sight to the crater. It went deep down. It took several stairs to reach the bottom. And these stairs were always in use. These worm-infested men were at least smart enough to pick on stairs to get down and the other stairs to climb up. It was a whole lot of mess down there.

A few norms fought among themselves. They pulled a piece of bread from each other's hands, screaming, kicking, punching, and biting. Truly disgusting.

"Let's return to the temple, senior brother," Elaith said.

"What's wrong, Elaith. We just got here."

"I don't want to be near these dirty norms any longer. Just by looking at them made me uncomfortable."

"If this makes you uncomfortable then let us return."

The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

It took quite a while for Elaith and the others to return to the temple. When he arrived, he took in a deep, long breath, filling his lungs with all the clean and fresh air nature could offer. The difference was like hell and heaven.

Elaith sat on a circular marble chair surrounding the trunk of a Tibrove tree. The trunk was as thick as five men and as tall as seven. It had lovely pink flowers and lush leaves with blue vines dangling all over. The floral scent comforted his nose, cleansing all the filth within. Two tootsiepoop birds returned to their nest, carrying colorful berries in their mouth. They chirped and whistled.

"Elaith, are you okay?" Vamir asked, Laeroth walking beside him. It was weird for them to be so close to each other considering their specialties. One focused on speed, while the other maximized in strength.

They could cover each other's weakness with that combination, though. It might be the reason why they were so close.

"I'm fine, senior brother. Just need some fresh air."

"I heard you have increased your cultivation, brother Elaith. Apologize. I meant; Senior brother Elaith. Congratulation on your advancement."

A man with black, short hair approached him. He had a bright face, contrasted by a black ink tattoo of a bear paw on top of his left eyebrow.

Elaith smiled and nodded. He didn't mind making more friends. Actually, everyone in Nefarious Sword was more than a friend to him. They were family.

"Thank you. I never saw you around here before. May I know your name?"

The man let out a slight chuckle. "Yes, I am new here, senior brother Elaith. Let me introduce myself. My name is Gaelin."

…

Balmar looked out from his carriage. Hundreds of wagon and carriages stretched across the heath-land. The wheels rolled over scrubby bushes, passing stunted trees or running over them. The magic bulls were more than enough to destroy a tree as small as a man's arm.

Boulders and rocks dotted the landscape. There seemed to be no animals in this dread place but creatures lurked behind the shadows. He could feel it.

Something screech. Most men would merely think it was just a bird. He would meet these creatures again. He could finally take revenge.

For they had taken his father from him.

"Stop!" Balmar shouted.

The carriages and wagons nearby shouted for the others to stop too. It took some time for everyone to still. Silent. Balmar inhaled sharply. The smell of acid and wet earth.

He got off his carriage, Goras followed from behind.

"I see no monsters around here," Goras said. "Not even an animal. Wait, now that I get a clear look, there's not even a proper tree or a bug around here. It's a wasteland. The ground is wet and damp. Nothing can live in this place."

"You don't believe in me, Goras?" Balmar asked.

"I have no reason to doubt you. But I have eyes. And these eyes see nothing. Why don't we go to a magic forest and hunt some magical beast."

"Just wait, and you'll see. Tell the others to put the carriage and wagon close to each other. Make a circle around it."

"Why?"

"Just listen to me."

Goras proceeded to shout at everyone. The coachmen moved their wagons closer to each other, grouping them into a tight circle with a small space enough for the Prime Soldiers to pass through.

The Prime Soldiers went to the edge of this circle of wagons and carriage, surrounding it in all directions.

The wind blew. And everything was silent. The magic bulls were never known to make any noise. And his soldiers were hand-picked. A slight grunt and they would be disqualified from being chosen. Hax taught him how a true soldier should act. Looking at their straight and solid stance, Balmar knew they were one step closer to reaching Hax's expectation.

They twitched. Impatient and curious about what's ahead.

Suddenly, the clouds above their head turned dark. Lightning flashed and the bright, colorful land turned into black and white. The trees, shrubs, and plants died. Rocks crumbled before turning into dust. The wind howled, whispering in his ears.

Balmar shivered inside his armor. Not from the cold, but from the excitement for what was about to come.

At the edge of their horizon, stretching across the land, and from all directions, a massive horde of beasts trod the land with their sharp claws. They growled. Yellow mucus came out of their jaws and a pair of tusk went over their mouth.

"They're real," Balmar exclaimed. "I wasn't mad after all. My memories about them taking my father was true. People have been treating me like I am crazy and they don't believe a word I said."

"What are they?" Goras said. He always said that he believed what Balmar said, but the man was quite critical and wouldn't believe anything until he saw it himself.

"They are the Foulclaw."

"People have gone here before. Why none of them say anything about these creatures."

Balmar didn't reply. He let the wind blow one more time before taking a deep breath. "Ever wonder why cultivators came here and never return? It was said that they are looking for something within this moor, and the Foulclaws killed them.'

"That doesn't explain why the norms were never attacked before."

"That's because they never look."

Goras turned speechless, eyes expanding. "Then why was your father attacked?"

Balmar turned to Goras. "Whatever those cultivators are looking for must be important. And we'll look for it with all we have."

He avoided the question.

"No! We come here to train our soldier, not searching for some non-existence artifact."

"It will benefit them greatly if we found it," Balmar said.

"You mean it will benefit you? Balmar, I have always followed what you told me without much fuss, but this is delusional. We won't find anything in this place. Let's get our men inside the carriage and escape from this place. With our firepower, we can pierce through one side and leave this moor."

Balmar shook his head. "It's too late for that. The Foulclaws have surrounded us from all sides, and we're deep within the moor. The only way to survive is if we stay together and protect our supplies."

Goras gritted his teeth. "I can't believe you put us at risk for this."

"You don't understand, Goras. I have prepared all of my life for this one moment."