Loa did not linger after attending that prairie gathering.
He continued east.
According to the map, beyond the central prairie lay the Wasteland farther east. Beyond the Wasteland was the Eastern Sea. The sea was drawn very simply on the map, but Loa wanted to see it.
After traveling for three days, he encountered a caravan. Its leader was a man from the Luo'ao Empire, in his fifties, his face weather-beaten from twenty years of trading on the prairie. When he heard that Loa was heading east, he shook his head.
"There's a war over there."
"A war?"
"The Canglang Tribe and the Iron Cavalry Tribe." The leader crouched and drew two lines in the sand with a twig. "The Canglang Tribe is the oldest power on the central prairie. They've always dominated the Khan's Court. Their current great khan, Temur, is a peak eighth-level warrior. The Iron Cavalry Tribe is in the west. They've traded with the Luo'ao Empire for decades, so they have the most iron goods and the best equipment. Their great khan, Aguda, is even a ninth-level expert."
He drew a cross between the two lines.
"They fight over grazing land, water, and trade routes. They've been at it for over half a year. Last month, the Iron Cavalry Tribe seized one of the Canglang Tribe's winter pastures. Temur couldn't stomach that, and now the two sides are facing off along the U'er River. Heading there alone-isn't that asking to die?"
Loa looked at the cross on the ground and asked, "Are there no Saint experts on the prairie?"
Caravan Leader Ma paused, then looked up at him with a strange expression.
"There are," he said. "They're all at the Warrior Saint Gate. They say the Martial Saint is the strongest expert beneath the gods. He