Chapter 19: Leaving Peace

The first rays of the morning sun filtered through the window giving the inside a warm glow. Patrick stood by the window, his gaze fixed on the lifeless corpse of the binturong sprawled in the front yard. Its dark green fur had started to lose its luster, and a faint stench of death lingered in the air. The victory over the creature now felt distant, but its presence served as a grim reminder—they couldn’t stay here much longer.

Inside, Lester sat hunched over his computer, his fingers flying across the keyboard as he scrolled through maps and government data. His brow furrowed in concentration. "We don’t have much time. The carcass is bound to attract more predators or scavengers. We need to move out today."

Patrick nodded, tearing his gaze away from the window. “You’re right. But we need to figure out the safest route. If we avoid trouble, we can make it to the airport in Manila in a few days.”

Lester tapped the screen, bringing up a map of the region. “I’m pulling up the government’s danger zone reports. There are marked spots where beasts have been spotted. We can use these as reference points and plan our route accordingly.” He paused, then glanced over his shoulder. “Patrick, can you grab the bags from the closet near the bathroom? And pack some of the fruits and veggies I washed earlier?”

Patrick gave the dead binturong one last look before heading off to gather supplies. “Did you know that Cultivation Island has its own airport?” he called over his shoulder.

Lester chuckled. “Yeah, I found that out while booking our flights. They’re becoming pretty official. Even governments are starting to collaborate with them. This could be a huge opportunity for us.”

As the two friends moved around the cabin, gathering their gear and packing food, there was an air of anticipation. They were no longer ordinary men heading out into the world—they were cultivators, though far from the powerful figures they aspired to be. Every step they took now felt like a step deeper into a dangerous, evolving world.

After an hour of preparation, they were ready.

…

Swish!

The front door of the cabin creaked open, revealing Patrick and Lester standing side by side, each carrying two fully loaded bags. They took one last look at the cabin that had been their safe haven for so long. Lester’s eyes lingered on the wooden walls, the familiar smell of the forest, and the quiet peace that had once filled this place. Despite the danger, he felt a twinge of sadness leaving it behind.

It will always be here. Lester thought to himself, forcing a tight smile. But the excitement of what lay ahead—the promise of growth, power, and new horizons—outweighed any hesitation. He unfolded a map he had printed earlier, and together they set off into the wilderness, their adventure beginning in earnest. It was at a time like this that he regretted not having a smartphone.

…

Hours passed as they trekked through the untamed forest. The air was thick with the scent of wild flora—Kalingags, Pitcher Plants, and Pandans swayed gently in the breeze, their vivid colors contrasting sharply against the rugged terrain. But as beautiful as their surroundings were, both men remained on high alert. Every rustle of leaves, every distant sound of an animal, set their nerves on edge.

“So, you're saying we have to go around this hill because of deadly monitors? What even are monitors anyway?” Patrick asked, glancing at the map in Lester’s hand.

“They’re large lizards with toxic mucus. Not something we want to tangle with, especially since they’re said to be on par with Middle Stage Cultivators,” Lester explained, shuddering slightly at the thought.

Patrick’s face twisted in distaste. “Great, just what we need.”

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Their pace quickened. The dirt paths beneath their feet were uneven, and the overgrown plants often forced them to take detours. Each time they veered off course, the sense of danger crept closer, making them painfully aware of how vulnerable they still were despite their cultivation progress.

Suddenly, Patrick’s sharp eyes caught something ahead. “Hey, do you see that?” he pointed toward a cloud of dust rising in the distance.

Lester squinted, his heart skipping a beat as he briefly imagined a beast charging toward them. But as the dust settled, he saw the outline of a truck barreling down the dirt road, sending clouds of earth spinning into the air.

Patrick’s eyes lit up. “It’s other people! Maybe they can give us a ride to Manila?”

Lester, always cautious, shook his head. “Don’t be naive. We can’t trust strangers out here. People can be just as dangerous as the creatures. Let’s stay alert.”

As the truck drew closer, the olive-green paint of the vehicle came into view, and eventually to a stop after noticing the duo and Lester’s gut twisted. On the back of the truck sat four men armed with pistols, axes and spears, while two more occupied the front cabin. One man, however, stood out. Dressed in a dark gray robe with a short sword strapped to his waist, he exuded an air of arrogance. His red leather boots hit the dirt with a thud as he jumped down from the truck, his balding head gleaming in the sunlight.

Robes were synonymous with cultivators, therefore, assuming someone with a robe as a cultivator wasn't a reach.

“A cultivator,” Lester whispered, his eyes narrowing.

Patrick’s expression darkened. “Treasure hunters?”

“Probably. The Philippines has been crawling with them since the incident. They’re likely after anything valuable, just like everyone else, maybe they'll let us be,” Lester murmured, trying to convince himself that this could still be a peaceful encounter.

As the truck came to a halt, the cultivator approached them, his small nose scrunched up in disdain. “What are farmers doing out here? Don’t you know this area is crawling with beasts?” His voice dripped with condescension.

Lester forced a smile, trying to deescalate the situation. “We’re just passing through, heading to Manila. You’re right, it’s dangerous out here, so we’ll be on our way now.”

But the cultivator’s eyes gleamed with malice. “Wait. You don’t look Filipino. Take everything out of your bags and strip. Consider yourselves lucky to meet a cultivator today.”

Patrick’s fists clenched at his sides, anger flaring in his eyes. The indignity of being treated like prey gnawed at him.

Lester, always the calmer of the two, stepped forward. “What do you gain from this? We’re just travelers. There’s no need for violence.”

The cultivator’s smile twisted into something cruel. “What do I gain? Amusement. I travel so much, you see, and entertainment is hard to come by, my partners also need some entertainment you know? You doont want us depressed. You should be thanking me for sparing your pathetic lives.”

Patrick’s body tensed, barely holding back the urge to strike. His breathing grew heavy, and the air between them seemed to crackle with tension.

Lester spoke again, trying one last time to defuse the situation. “May we at least know the name of the man who finds pleasure in tormenting travelers?”

The cultivator’s face darkened. “My name doesn’t matter. Now strip, before I lose my patience.”

As the words left his lips, a sudden gust of wind rushed past Lester. Patrick moved faster than the cultivator could react, his fist connecting with the man’s temple in a sickening bang. The cultivator’s body crumpled, hitting the ground with a thud as it convulsed briefly before going still.

For a moment, the forest was deathly silent. Lester blinked, stunned at how swiftly Patrick had neutralized the threat. The difference between a cultivator with a complete technique and one relying on fragments was vast. Patrick had just proven that in a single, decisive strike.

The men in the truck were jolted into action, scrambling to escape. The driver slammed the truck into reverse, but before he could get away, a blue tentacle shot out from Lester stopping them from pulling out their weapons, and wrapping around the driver’s vest and yanking him from the vehicle.

Lester’s tentacles weren’t strong enough to hold up against powerful opponents, but against regular humans, they were more than sufficient. The remaining men, panicked by the display of power, leaped from the truck and disappeared into the dense forest, their fear palpable.

Patrick let out a sigh of relief, glancing at Lester with a grin. “Well, that solves our problem.”

Lester shook his head, still processing how quickly the situation had escalated. He walked over to the unconscious cultivator, kneeling beside him to check for any valuables. “You really put him out cold.”

Patrick shrugged. “Better him than us.”

Finding nothing of value on the man, Lester dragged him off the road and into the bushes, out of sight. When he returned, he glanced at the truck. “Do you know how to drive?”

Patrick’s grin widened as he climbed into the driver’s seat, turning the key that had conveniently been left in the ignition. The engine roared to life, and both men shared a look of excitement. Their journey had just gotten a whole lot faster.

With a rumble of the engine, the truck sped off down the dirt road, leaving behind an unconscious cultivator and a trail of dust.