Chapter 1 - Time to Leave
crunch crunch
“You know, it’s almost kind that they let us keep our storage rings with all our money and stuff.”
“You do know how our sister is right? She probably let us keep it just so she can rough us up some more since we have a few healing candy stocked away.”
“Is that so? Never paid enough attention to her to notice anything but the ridiculously large amount of men she’s been flirting with.”
“Sleeping with.”
“Same thing.”
As we traverse the rocky streets of the closest town to our former clan, we find a few snacks, supplies, and knick-knacks to occupy our time with. Various merchants have plain wooden stalls and mats on the sides of the cobblestone street. The scents of food being prepared barely detracts away from the pungent smell of civilization to our sniffling elven noses. We kid you not. Elven noses have little tolerance for anything not plant.
Our locks of pink and violet hair draw a few curious and contemptuous looks, but this close to the clan is still safe territory. Once we leave is when things will become dangerous.
ding ding
The general store we found is filled with various items on display from medicine to scrolls. The quality won’t be the best compared to a specialty store, but you can occasionally find mystical treasures that have been overlooked. We aren’t here for those though.
Behind the counter is an old man in a white robe with his eyes closed like every other cultivator who cultivates in their spare time. Even cultivators need money, thus they must work odd hours at places like this instead of fighting qi beasts. As we approach him, he speaks to us without opening his eyes.
“If you are looking for night time products, then you are probably in the wrong store.”
“...I am interested in some jade custom-made products.”
“If you are looking for night time products, then you are probably in the wrong store.”
“Jade that a cultivator has altered into the shape of playing cards.” With this statement that I delivered in a monotone voice, the old man finally opens his eyes and looks at us for a few good seconds.
“If you are-”
“BLANK PLAYING CARDS! JUST BLANK PLAYING CARDS! STOP MAKING EVERYTHING I SAY SOUND MORALLY WRONG!” After my short little outburst, the old man finally smiles as if witnessing something funny. My sister is also laughing her derriere off on the ground heedless of my glares or mental accusations.
Suddenly a few jade stones appeared on the counter and was promptly modified by the old man with his qi into the desired shape. Soon enough, an entire deck of cards was neatly stacked on the counter.
“That will be 2 crystals.” After grudgingly handing over the crystals and grabbing the cards, I made for the exit until the old man said one last thing.
“So will you be playing with just yourself?”
I answered by slamming the door shut. Then I opened it for my sister and slammed it shut again.
***
Unfortunately, things did not get better after finding an inn to sleep for the night. The innkeeper had not so discretely warned us to keep the beds clean and to use the barrel in the storage room for bathing instead of the actual bathing room.
Sure the attitude towards hybrids was funny at first, but its gone way past what a person considers tolerable. The guards at the entrance to the city and every shopkeeper we visited were all just a step below hostile. If we still had our qi cores, then the guards might have forced us to do more than a strip check (with a female guard who kept insulting our mother). The increased prices and poor quality of anything we could buy put a damper on our shopping spree.
Sighing at the injustice of it all, I turn to regard my sister who is doing a few flexibility exercises from yoga to dancing to some ancient tribal exercise that I have long since forgotten the name of in our shared bedroom. The room wasn’t bad, but it was pretty plain with only a bed, a window, and a small flower-filled vase. I liked the smell of the flowers as it freshens up the stale air in the otherwise smelly inn. Scented amenities are not common in low tier inns and it’s not unreasonable to have flowers everywhere to make up for it.
“Any ideas on how to cultivate?”
“I have taken a liking to that giant key we found at a blacksmith. Practically a steal at that gimmick store compared to all those overpriced weapons.”
“It may take years to develop a weapon force though.”
A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
“Which is why I am gonna focus on a few elemental forces for now.”
Her response makes me look around at all the elemental mana that I can sense around us. The only ones we can truly manipulate are those included in our bloodlines. Unlike humans and their adaptability, other races like elves have difficulty doing anything that is not included in their racial instincts and even more so if it conflicts with their race.
The brightest light is a breath of fresh air, the hunger for sun to build its body, the thirst for continued growth, the patience to wait for the perfect time to act, and the sturdiness to shrug off trivial threats to its existence and recover from those it can’t. ~Nature~
Another light is a taste of salt, eternally flowing currents that travels across the land, always pulled gently by the moon, its depths hide secrets from the sun’s eye, its tears that fall from the heavens and nourish the land, and its rage shall strike fear in all above its domain. ~Water~
The next light glows in all shades and colors, its dance ever changing with the frequency, constantly shifting from particles to waves and vice versa, its caress leaving energetic warmth in its wake, and intermixing with shadows until it can no longer reach. ~Light~
The final light is one that betrays sight, its domain shrinks under the day but grows under the night, its shadows can be seen but hides more within, its touch is feared by those lacking understanding of its existence, and its formless body is limited only by imagination. ~Dark~
There are flickers of light that represent the other elemental forces, but grasping them is impossible without dedicated effort to communing with them.
“Speaking of which, how is your innovative card cultivation coming along?”
“Honestly? It feels like I am mentally screaming at something and it somehow works.”
“The power to make your dreams a reality~”
“Except everyone else relies on some ancestor to do it for them”
“A black sheep cares not for the whims of the herd~”
“Although, their techniques are more refined.”
“Power without understanding is but pearls before swine~”
“Are you going to keep speaking like that?”
“Already spent a life time like that with haiku. It gets boring after a while.”
***
Leaving town was a simple affair. At least when the guards are all happy to be rid of you. It’s somehow creepy when every guard and even the people in line to enter the city all give us their blessings on a safe journey.
Oddballs aside, our journey was relaxing. Clean air that is not tainted with the convenience of civilization. The music of birds to settle your nerves as you traverse the dirt path. Even the trees are ripe for an elven harvest.
As we crested a hill and were finally out of sight of our traveled path, we were interrupted by a rabble of a most unpleasant sort. A hobgoblin with a mohawk, an orc with an afro, and a lizardman covered in tattoos had jumped out of the trees to surround us. Their gear were generic cultivator robes and standard mortal-grade weapons. Honestly, they weren’t much of a threat even if our qi cores are shattered.
Hobgoblin: Well, well, well. What do we have here? A couple of lost… mutts?
Orc: Mutts? What are we supposed to do with them? They ain’t got no money to steal.
Lizardman: Maybe we can sell them to some eccentric?
Hobgoblin: Impossible. Look at them! They have freckles! Freckles! FRECKLES!!! What kind of elf hybrid has freckles of all things?
Lizardman: Dunno. They do still have an elf’s ethereal beauty so it might not be too bad?
Orc: Only a fool would use a mutt for sexual cultivation. Don’t tell me you plan to dilute your lineage with 4 addition races.
Hobgoblin: Yeah! And whatever happened to that tail you said you were chasing back in the Village Hidden Under the Stars. Perhaps we should inform her of your recent shift in interests.
Lizardman: I’m still a lizard only kind of guy and please don’t say anything! I almost got her to accept an invitation for a moonlit stroll.
As our would be bandits have preoccupied themselves with their bickering, we have made the wise decision to keep walking past them. It was surprising, but they are somewhat correct. We are dirt poor and nobody would consider us world shaking beauties to fight over. At least we can have a nonviolent journey?
***
After the twins were out of sight, the bandit trio were still bickering over nonsensical things. Another traveler had crested over the hill and only received a casual nod from the hobgoblin before being ignored.
The next traveler, however, received only a passing glance before being ignored. His posture exuded arrogance and it was clear to all that he was a powerful cultivator from a renowned sect. Obviously, this cultivator merely scoffed at the noise caused by the plebeians on the side of the dirt road and promptly walked past them.
Hobgoblin: KILL!
Orc: SMASH!
Lizardman: CUT!
Despite being caught off guard, the cultivator was able to admirably block all 3 attacks and began to proceed with stomping the trash. His Tri-Illusion Sword technique was put to good use with deflecting most of the hobgoblin’s unerring strikes while his defensive talismans protected him from the ones he missed.
In his peripherals, he noticed the afro orc was swing his mace with an odd rhythm so he sped up the circulation of qi in his body in order to activate the Infinite Illusion Sect’s secret technique. With this technique, his body was able to creepily twist out of the way in a manner that tricked the eyes. Air blasted by as the orc missed while overreaching and the orc was unable to step back fast enough before an Illusion Thrust that moved faster than your eyes could see has pierced into his shoulder. The cultivator smirked as he showed off the superiority of being a 1-in-a-million genius to be able to understand such profound techniques.
Unfortunately all of his thoughts were brought to an abrupt end by an unforeseen tail holding a dagger that pierced through all of his defensive talismans. After quickly looting and disposing of the body in a storage ring, the successful bandits continued their chit chat.
Orc: Bro, sometimes I wish I had a tail like that. Nobody ever sees it coming.
Lizardman: Nah, it’s only useful for surprise attacks and is almost useless when someone actually knows how to fight against tailed fighters. At least you have the muscle to break barriers without a ridiculously expensive enchanted item.
Orc: We wouldn’t need to use so much of our qi in a few seconds if that brat wasn’t flaunting his money with every action he took.
Hobgoblin: Tell me about it. I am clearly a better fighter, but that little prick must have eaten tons of pill supplements to boost his cultivation. Prodigy my foot!
Orc: Yea, but now his riches are ours now!
Hobgoblin: We should sell off everything in his storage ring first. Mere nobodies like us will never survive holding such valuable items. Make sure to sell them slowly so nobody is too offended with our earnings.
Lizardman: By the way, why did we ignore that old man? Wasn’t he a perfect target?
Hobgoblin: Anyone who lives to be an old man is not a simple person. The path of cultivation is filled with death and those who survive it can easily handle us.
Orc: But these rich brats can never see the forest for the trees. Unfortunately, they always have enough backing that we can’t ever stay in the same area for long.