Nolan leapt to the top of the tallest tree to see just what the hell was going on, and that’s when he saw that two figures were floating high above the ground, both covered in cloaks of golden inner essence. Directly opposite them was the mysterious woman, similarly draped in her peculiar white energy.

“I won’t say this again. Leave them be, Delia.”

“Humph, I see that you still enjoy ruining my fun. Fine! But only because it’s you that’s asking, old man.” The white energy abruptly disappeared as the woman slowly began to rise higher into the air. “I’ll only back off this once.” With that, she disappeared into the distance with a shockwave of wind.

The two figures turned their focus towards Nolan.

Is that…?

Both of the men appeared before him in a blink, the familiar pair offering him assuring smiles as they hovered before him with the majesty of kings.

“You certainly have a habit of making trouble, young man.”

“This is hardly his fault.”

“Commander Hueler? And…”

“Aven,” said the father of Ridgerock’s king, his yellow robe aflutter as he floated amidst a settling breeze.

“Mr. Aven,” Nolan said with heartfelt respect. “Who was that woman?”

“An unruly brat that used to follow me around back in the day. I knew something was up when she didn’t pay her respects despite stopping by for the festival. She must have set her sights on you the moment you won the black halmite.”

Hueler held up a hand when Nolan opened his mouth to ask another question. “Let’s go down to your friends first. They’re probably just as confused as you are.”

Visible relief washed over the others as they joined up at the base of the tree.

Hueler gave an impressed whistle as he took stock of their surroundings. “I’ve got to say, I’ve never heard of someone at your level that can do even close to what you’ve done here. You were exemplary as well, young man.” He considered Ian with approval. “Brash as he was Keplin was no ordinary cultivator. There aren’t many people at the Integration stage that could have bested him, at least not within these mountains.”

Aven nodded along. “Even defeating his disciple is an impressive feat.”

“Oh yeah.” Nolan rushed over to the fallen tree that had crushed Hal. “Ian, gimme a hand.”

Hueler rolled the giant log over before they reached it, which revealed a disgusting stain of scarlet around a flattened robe that contained a pasty mass of palpitated flesh and matted hair.

“Jesus,” said Nolan as he used a stick to prod at the bloodstained clothing. “You wouldn’t even know this was a person.”

“Says the guy who did it.” Sean reluctantly accepted the sodden spatial bag that Nolan lifted with the tip of the stick. “Why’d you give it to me?”

“You were closest.”

“Remind me to keep my distance next time.”

Aven suddenly looked to the west. “Does that brat think I can’t sense her?” He turned to Hueler with an apologetic look. “I’m going to go have a chat with Delia. I’ll leave you to take care of things here.”

“Wait,” said Nolan. “Thank you for helping us out. Both of you. We owe you guys.”

“You became a friend of our kingdom the moment you saved young Haldi.” He flew upwards with a rush of wind, smiling at them as he slowly began to float away. “I heard that you speak the language of the Otherworlders. I’d like to sit down and talk with you all one day, if fate permits it. Also, I’m sure that Haldi and my grandson would enjoy seeing Esteban again.”

“Thank you Mr. Aven!” called the kid in question. “We’ll visit soon, I promise!”

The man simply smiled at them before he vanished over the treetops.

Ian broke the following silence, uncertainty written all over his face. “Is it okay that you helped us? An energy projection appeared above Keplin’s body after he died, and whoever was behind it got a good look at our faces. If he really does have backup in the area…”

“It seems that he was telling the truth.”

“Then won’t it cause problems for—”

Hueler held up a hand. “He did have associates in the area, his subordinates, actually. Though it looks like they were killed by someone from a rival sect somewhere to the east of here. That old bastard was lying when he said that he’d come here to poach a new disciple. The reality is that he came here on a mission, but pushed the responsibilities off on his followers so he could mess around in the mountain communities.”

“Where’d you hear that?” asked Nolan. “If you don’t mind telling me.”

“I received a message from my wife after he killed her friend’s servant while she was visiting, so I kept an eye on him up until he reached Ridgerock. One of his superiors used a sound transmission talisman to tell him off, and he took his anger out on his disciples. That’s when I heard him cursing over the mission’s failure. Seems that the person they were after got away because of his stupidity.”

Nolan let out a lax sigh. “Thank God he was such a simpleton.”

“Where are you guys headed?”

“The Northern Wilderness.”

“Hmm. You’ve still got quite a ways to go. The soldiers of Red Mountain have spread all throughout the area, so I think it best that I bring you there directly.”

“They’re this far up?” said Sean. “We ran into some in a place called Malben but we stopped seeing them after a day or so.”

“That’s because their king and ours have an agreement. If they come within a hundred leagues of our territory then it’ll be taken as an act of war. Their leader isn’t the kind of man to start a fight that he can’t win.”

With no reason to turn him down, they accepted Hueler’s offer with gratitude. The man quickly encased them in individual globes of inner essence before he shot up into the air with a thunderous whistle of wind, an emerald sea stretching out before them with rocky behemoths looming all around.

Nolan drank in the experience as they soared across the sky at a ridiculous speed, the forest below a verdant blur while Hueler weaved his way through countless valleys and various mountain passes. Astoundingly enough, the towering mountains soon gave way to a desolate expanse of dead earth, not a single tree or shrub visible atop the eerie, sickly soil.

They touched down at the base of one of the few remaining mountains, which were spaced far apart in comparison to what they had grown used to in recent weeks. As with when the mysterious cultivator called Black Cloak had escorted them to Smolen, the projected inner essence protected them from the wind resistance brought on by such fast flight. They were no worse for wear than when they’d set off.

“That was awesome!”

“You’ve got that right, kid,” said Sean as he straightened his collar. “Man, I can’t wait until I can fly.”

“Seriously,” said Nolan. “That was the real first class.” The entire trip—over a thousand kilometres—had taken less than two hours.

Hueler handed him a small plaque of varnished wood with a tiny golden circle at the centre.

“What’s this?”

“If you guys ever find your way back to Mason, this will give you access to my estate. It’ll also solve any problems you might run into.”

“I—thank you. For everything.”

His gratitude was echoed by his friends.

“I’d prefer to see you safely to your destination, but I can’t be away from the kingdom for much longer, not while Aven is also away.” Hueler rose up into the air with a light grin. “The Northern Wilderness is an unforgiving place. It’s where all the low-lives and exiles go when they’ve exhausted the patience of the mountain communities. There’s no rule of law, no justice.”

“We’ll keep that in mind. Thanks again, Hueler. We’ll be seeing you!”

The group saw him off as he disappeared into the natural skyline of monolithic mountains. They remained in the same place for about half an hour while Nolan set about repairing their uniforms, the durability and physical resistance of which increased enough to protect against attacks from anyone below the eighth level of Profound Entry. If Uncle Grey were around then Nolan was confident that he’d be able to make them invulnerable to anyone beneath the Integration stage, though the old ghost hadn’t said a peep since he’d attempted to possess his body back when he and Ian had fought against those two disciples of the Bloodhand Sect in Malben Valley.

Come on, old man. At least tell me you’re okay… Tempted as he was to pay a visit to the glade, the transportation required a tremendous amount of energy and he didn’t want to risk using up his only means of escaping a dire situation.

They set off once everybody had changed into their improved clothing, the desolate plains a drastic change from the mountainous environment that he’d grown so used to over the past several months. Dead trees began to dot the horizon after they sprinted for several hours, along with the occasional spindly shrub.

They ran on well into the night, hardly encountering any animals throughout their travels. Running, resting, eating, sleeping; they followed this pattern over the next two days, at least until they intersected with a large trail that showed signs of recent use. Prints of foot and hoof surrounded a long line of grooves dug into the ground by thick wheels, signs of wagons and carriages. At long last they had finally happened upon the trail of the caravan that they sought so desperately.

“These tracks are barely a couple days old.” Ian stood up and looked ahead with a resolute expression. “No more breaks. Let’s just catch up to them already.”

With everyone in agreeance the group set off at the fastest manageable pace, though they were forced to stop far sooner than they had expected.

They found the first body in several pieces, scattered amidst a mass of broken wood and a mess of spoiled fruit. Crates lay crushed all around, though it was difficult to differentiate between which debris originated from decimated transports and the containers that held their cargo.

Nolan expanded his spiritual sense to its limit as he was overtaken with worry. “I can’t sense any life forms.”

They proceeded forward with caution, passing dozens of bloating bodies as they followed the trail of wreckage that extended on into the horizon and well into the surrounding landscape. By the time they traversed the length of the trail they’d discovered the remains of well over a thousand people, though Nyla and Lyra weren’t among the dead.

“Look there.” Sean indicated toward a clump of dead men that were all dressed in the same style of hard leathers. “At least a hundred people are wearing the same clothes.”

Nolan noticed that they all had the same tattoo, a black spade with a white line down the centre. He’d seen similar signs on the bodies of the bandits that he’d encountered in Verdure. “They’re bandits. Seems like this is their sigil.”

“What’s wrong, kid?”

Hearing Sean’s words, Nolan looked over at Ian, whose breathing was erratic. “Haven’t you noticed? There aren’t any women here.”

A silent understanding took hold of the group, followed by a disgusted rush of rage.

Calmed by the energy of the Millennial Ring, Nolan took a few deep breaths and began to rationalize the situation. “Nyla and Lyra aren’t some pushovers. They would’ve fled the moment that they were attacked.”

“No,” whispered Ian. “Lyra’s as reckless as she is brave. She wouldn’t leave the other women to such a fate, not if she could make a difference.”

Esteban had remained quiet since their morbid discovery, his face pale as a sheet of paper as he regarded the corpse of a boy his age, tearstains running down the dead child’s face.

A second trail led westward from the caravan’s original trajectory, an indication where the bandits had taken their captives. For the first time in a while, Nolan had a mind for murder.