Return

The golden glow of the setting sun spilled over the rolling mountains, staining the horizon a warm orange-red. The Spined Iron-Armored Dragon's wings swept through the clouds, stirring up a howling wind. Below, the outline of gray, dusty Fenlan City was already clearly visible.

"Almost there." Hillman lay low against the Iron-Armored Dragon's back, his fingertips rubbing his palm. The heavy sensation of gathering the Profound Mystery of Strength on the rocky flats of Mist Canyon several months ago seemed to linger in his flesh—back then, he had shattered a mound-sized black boulder with a punch, sending stone dust billowing into a golden haze in the sunlight. The Iron-Armored Dragon's claws had collided with his fist, scattering broken stones across the Rocky Shoal, while the shock wave flattened grass that stood half a person tall.

It had been two full years since he left Fenlan City.

Two years ago, he had been a boy doing odd jobs at a martial arts school in the city, barely touching the threshold of the Saint-level. With a few copper coins and nothing but solitary courage, he had shouldered a heavily patched pack and ventured alone into the danger-ridden Magical Beast Forest. Two years later, he was a powerful expert who had achieved External Godhood and commanded six profound mysteries. The enormous armored dragon following him had once fought more than a hundred exchanges with him on the Rocky Shoal. Its claws had torn his clothes, and its tail had swept across his shoulder. Now, however, it had become his most trusted companion, with a measure of mutual understanding even in their breathing.

The wind brushed Hillman's hair, carrying the distinctive bustle of everyday life in Fenlan City mingled with the fragrance of wheat from distant fields, making his eyes grow slightly hot. The Iron-Armored Dragon seemed to sense his feelings. Its wingbeats became gentler, and its enormous body traced a shallow arc through the air as it flew toward the wooded hills outside the city.

When the man and dragon reached the air above the dense woods outside Fenlan City, Hillman patted the Iron-Armored Dragon's neck, signaling it to descend. Strong winds brushed its dark-gold scales, which reflected tiny glimmers of light. Several faint white marks still remained on those scales-the very marks left by his punch several months ago, after he had fully comprehended the Profound Mystery of Strength. Now they had become medals of their companionship.

Hillman swung himself off the dragon's back and landed steadily on the leaf-covered grass in the woods. His toes ground over withered yellow grass stems with a faint rustle.

"Old friend, wait here for me." Hillman looked into the Iron-Armored Dragon's blood-red eyes, his voice gentle but carrying an unquestionable firmness. "There isn't much room in the city. With a body your size, you might step right through someone's roof and cause unnecessary panic. I'll be back soon. Half a day at most, and I'll come get you."

The Iron-Armored Dragon gave a low growl and gently rubbed its enormous head against the back of his hand. Its rough scales brushed his palm with a warm touch. It flicked its spike-covered tail and carefully curled up in a clearing, its enormous body disappearing among the thick branches and leaves. Only a pair of watchful eyes remained visible, looking toward Fenlan City. Sunlight filtered through gaps in the leaves, casting mottled light and shadow over its scales. From a distance, it looked like an enormous sleeping boulder.

Hillman stood where he was, watching until the Iron-Armored Dragon had settled down completely. Only then did he turn and walk briskly toward the city gate. Fallen leaves rustled beneath his feet. Every step seemed to land on a point in his memories. The apprehension and hopes he had felt when leaving two years ago, and the life-and-death trials of those two years in the Magical Beast Forest, all turned into an urgent longing to return home.

As he approached the gate, he saw from afar that the pedestrians passing beneath the weathered blue-gray city walls had suddenly stopped in unison and raised their heads toward the wooded hills-clearly, the trace of Dragon's Might released when the Iron-Armored Dragon circled overhead had alarmed them. The crowd was filled with frightened, curious whispers. Some clutched their vegetable baskets, while others instinctively shielded the children beside them. The guards at the gate gripped their rust-speckled iron blades, their faces deathly pale as they stood on alert. Even their breathing had become cautious, their eyes full of fear of the unknown.

At a thought from Hillman, a phantom image of his Divine Clone flickered at his brow and vanished. A gentle pressure belonging to a Lowgod quietly spread outward, like a spring breeze brushing across a lake, completely soothing away the Iron-Armored Dragon's lingering, chilling aura. The panic at the gate instantly dissipated. The pedestrians sighed in relief, patting their chests as they quietly discussed the strange disturbance, then gradually returned to their usual ways. Only the guards still glanced toward the wooded hills with lingering unease.

Blending into the crowd, Hillman strode through the city gate.

The moment he passed through the gate, his steps unconsciously slowed. His gaze swept over the familiar streets, and a wave of complicated feelings rose in his heart. Two years was neither a long time nor a short one, yet it had been enough to bring subtle changes to this little city. The uneven stone road of his memories had, at some point, been mostly filled in, and walking along it no longer felt bumpy. The pastry shop by the street, always wafting a sweet fragrance, had a brand-new wooden sign bearing four large gilded characters reading "Li Family Flaky Pastries," looking more refined than before. The old locust tree at the street corner had grown even more luxuriant than it had been two years ago. Beneath its dense shade, several new vendors had set up stalls and were calling out to sell their handmade goods.

He walked slowly down the street, his gaze passing over every familiar yet unfamiliar corner, his heart filled with mixed emotions. When he left, he had still been an inexperienced boy who always felt Fenlan City was too small to hold his ambitions and dreams, intent on making a name for himself out in the world. Now he had returned as a powerful expert wielding the power of laws. He had seen the vastness of the Magical Beast Forest and the bizarre wonders of underground caverns, yet he discovered that what put his heart most at ease was still the everyday bustle of this little city.

The owner of the roadside general store was bent over arranging his goods, still as plump as Hillman remembered. Hearty laughter came from the little tavern next door, seemingly from the same regulars as two years ago. Even the old woman sitting on her doorstep at the mouth of the alley, basking in the sun, was still waving her palm-leaf fan, though a little more white had appeared at her temples. These small things that remained unchanged intertwined with those quiet changes to form the hometown that had haunted his dreams.

Hillman's pace was unhurried, but his heart felt like a rabbit fluttering inside his chest. He wondered how Hogg would react when he saw him return. Would he clap him on the shoulder and scold him for "not knowing his own limits," just as he had two years ago? Would he be happy to see him back? He also remembered the bag of copper coins Hogg had pressed into his hands when he left two years ago, and his earnest reminders to take care of himself away from home and not push himself too hard when trouble arose. Back then, he had agreed aloud while inwardly dismissing it all. Only now, looking back, did he understand the concern hidden in those reminders.

He also thought of Linley, the boy who was always practicing his punches with his head down. He ought to be doing well at the Ernst Institute now, shouldn't he? Hillman had heard that the Ernst Institute was one of the continent's foremost havens for cultivation. With Linley's talent, he had presumably already begun to distinguish himself. After seeing Hogg this time, Hillman would have to find a way to ask after Linley so they could catch up.

As his thoughts wandered, he had already passed through two main streets and rounded a familiar corner. A neat residential compound appeared before him.

Its blue-brick courtyard walls were far from extravagant, and two stone lions stood at the entrance, the corners of their mouths rubbed smooth and shiny. A plain wooden plaque hung above the doorway, bearing the three characters for "Baruch." This was Hogg's residence. Two horse-drawn wagons stood outside the courtyard gate, their bodies marked with the emblem of the Hogg Trading Company-a fine horse with its head held high. Several workers were busy unloading goods. All were drenched in sweat, yet their faces were full of smiles. Clearly, the trading company had only recently returned from a profitable trip elsewhere.

Hillman stood at the street corner, looking at that familiar wooden door, his heart racing beyond his control. He took a deep breath, suppressed his excitement, and straightened his clothes. Only then did he step forward, reach out, and gently knock on the wooden door.

"Knock, knock, knock."

The crisp knocking sounded particularly clear in the quiet alley.

Footsteps soon came from inside, steady and strong. Then a familiar voice called, "Who is it?"

The wooden door creaked open, and Hogg appeared in the doorway in casual clothes. His figure was as straight as ever, though his temples showed a little more weathering, and the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes had deepened somewhat over the past two years. When his gaze fell on Hillman, this man who ran a trading company and had weathered plenty of storms abruptly froze. The door bar in his hand fell to the ground with a soft clack.

Time seemed to stand still at that moment. Hogg stared fixedly at Hillman, the initial confusion in his eyes gradually turning to shock before indescribable joy and excitement surged into them.