A Man Must One Day Journey Far

Only when dawn began to break the next day did Loa rise from beside Old Jack's grave.

Dew had soaked his clothes and hair, leaving them chilly. After sitting all night, his legs were stiff and numb, but his mind felt as though the morning breeze had swept through it, much clearer than yesterday. The heavy grief and confusion clogging his chest were still there, but they no longer pressed down on him until he could hardly breathe. Instead, they had become a definite decision, one that carried a dull ache.

He carefully packed the things he had brought-the sword, wrapped again in old cloth and slung across his back; the damaged leather picture, carefully rolled up and tucked inside his clothes; the warped leather armor and short dagger, put into a coarse cloth sack he had found for the purpose. Once he finished, he stood silently before Old Jack's grave for a little longer, then turned and walked toward town.

In the early morning, Wushan Town was shrouded in subdued activity and sorrow. There was less weeping now, and much more silent clearing and hauling. Smoke, dust, and an indescribably oppressive smell filled the air. Loa walked along the familiar roads, now strewn with rubble and broken stones, and kept seeing townspeople with red, swollen eyes searching the ruins for anything still usable.

He met Grandpa Mund on the way. The old hunter was helping several neighbors pry up a beam pinning down sacks of grain. Seeing Loa, he straightened and gave his shoulder a firm pat. He said nothing, but Loa understood what was in his eyes. Loa nodded to him and continued on.

First, he visited the ruins where the Blacksmith Shop had stood and took one last look. Then he turned toward the other end of town, heading for the Baruch Clan's mansion. Along the way, he heard that Young Master Linley had been injured yesterday.

The Baruch family's ancestral home was sturdier than most houses in town and had not suffered serious damage. There were merely a few more cracks in the walls and some broken roof tiles in the courtyard. The old steward, Hiri, was directing two servants as they swept the courtyard. His back was straight and his movements as brisk as ever, but weariness showed plainly on his face, and his cuffs seemed to bear faint bloodstains that had not washed out completely.

"Grandpa Hiri." Loa stopped at the courtyard gate and called to him.

Hiri turned around. Seeing Loa, a trace of warmth appeared on his stern face. "Oh, Loa. What brings you here?" "I heard Linley was injured, so I came to see him." (Having trained together for so long, the protagonist could address Linley somewhat more familiarly.) "Young Master Linley is in his room. Go on in." He paused, then added, "You... I'm glad you're all right."

"Thank you, Grandpa Hiri." Loa entered the courtyard. He could feel Grandpa Hiri's gaze linger briefly on the pack on his back, but the old man asked nothing.

He came to Linley's room, where the door stood ajar. Loa knocked.

"Come in." Linley's voice came from inside, sounding... a little brighter than usual.

Loa pushed open the door and entered. Linley sat propped against the head of the bed, his forehead wrapped in clean cloth. His face was still somewhat pale, but he actually looked in good spirits. What surprised Loa most was the look in Linley's eyes and his demeanor. Before, Linley's gaze had always been heavy, as though something weighed upon him, and he habitually pressed his lips together, looking burdened with worries. Now, however, his eyes held a relaxed brightness rarely seen before. Though his injury left him looking a little weak, he seemed... much more cheerful, as though a string that had always been taut had suddenly loosened a little.

"Loa? You're here!" Linley smiled when he saw him and pointed to the stool beside the bed. "Sit down. I'm fine. I only broke the skin on my head a little. Grandpa Hiri and the others are worrying too much."

Loa sat down as asked and examined his wound. "You lost so much blood. You still need to be careful." He noticed Linley's fingers unconsciously rubbing at something against his chest. There seemed to be something there, but the quilt hid it from view.

"Mm, I know." Linley nodded, then asked, "Your... your home. I heard about it this morning. You..."

"I'm all right," Loa interrupted, his voice calm. "I dug out some things. As long as I'm safe, that's what matters."

Linley looked at Loa's calm face, at the exhaustion he could not hide and his bloodshot eyes, and knew things were nowhere near as easy as he made them sound. He wanted to offer some comfort, but did not know what to say. For a while, both fell silent.

"You..." Loa hesitated, but asked anyway. "You seem a little different."

Linley froze for a moment, then his smile deepened, carrying a hint of release and renewal. "A little." He offered no explanation, only saying, "That blow yesterday seems to have knocked some sense into me. Things I used to get hung up on... suddenly, I feel there might be more than one path." As he spoke, his gaze unconsciously flicked to the space beside him, where a faint, reassuring warmth seemed to emanate.

Loa grew thoughtful. Looks like the Azure Dragon Ring has acknowledged its master. Tsk, this is a Sovereign Artifact. Was the legendary Grandpa Doehring in the direction he just looked? Loa did not press him. Everyone had their own path and secrets.

"That's good," Loa said sincerely. He was happy to see his friend free of the gloom that had hung over him for so long.

"By the way," Loa cleared his throat and explained why he had come, "I'm planning to leave Wushan Town and try my luck out there. I came today to say goodbye."

Linley's smile faded. He sat a little straighter and looked earnestly at Loa. "You've decided?"

"Yes." Loa nodded, looking out the window at a small patch of sky cut off by the eaves. "Grandpa Jack is gone, and now the Blacksmith Shop is gone too. I want to go out and see just how big this world is, and... find a way to grow stronger."

Linley fell silent. He understood that feeling. After witnessing power on that level yesterday and personally experiencing the agony of having one's home so easily destroyed, any boy whose spirit had not died would yearn to venture out and become stronger. Was he himself any different? Only the path he had chosen might differ from Loa's.

"That's good too," Linley finally said, his voice solemn. "It's bound to be dangerous out there, but there will be plenty of opportunities too. You... take care of yourself. Remember Wushan Town. Remember... to come back and visit."

"I will," Loa promised.

Just then, the door was gently pushed open a crack, and a little head covered in fluffy hair poked inside, a pair of large, dark eyes peering curiously into the room. It was a little boy of two or three, with round, chubby cheeks, utterly adorable.

"Big brother!" the boy called in a babyish voice when he saw Linley. Then his gaze fell on the unfamiliar Loa, and he shyly drew his neck back.

"Wharton, come in." Linley's expression instantly softened beyond measure. He beckoned to the boy, then introduced him to Loa. "My little brother, Wharton. Wharton, this is Big Brother Loa."

Only then did little Wharton timidly enter and approach Linley's bedside, though he still stole curious glances at Loa.

Loa looked at the tiny boy. This was Linley's brother, the child whose Dragonblood Warrior Bloodline concentration would meet the required standard in the future. He remembered the jumble of things in his cloth sack, rummaged through it, and found a very small, finely crafted wooden sword. Old Jack had carved it from scraps for him to play with when he was little. It had actually survived the ruins unscathed. Giving it to his good friend's little brother would be a fine thing too.

"Wharton, this is our first meeting, and I don't have anything particularly nice," Loa said, holding out the little wooden sword and softening his voice as much as he could. "This is for you. Take it and play."

Little Wharton's eyes lit up at once, but he did not take it immediately. Instead, he first looked up at his big brother, Linley. Linley smiled and nodded. Only then did little Wharton reach out his small hands and carefully accept the wooden sword. He waved it in his hand, a happy smile spreading across his face, and said brightly, "Thank you, Big Brother Loa!"

Looking at the little fellow's innocent smile, Loa felt some of his sorrow at parting fade. He lifted the boy onto his lap and played with him a little. Little Wharton soon lost his shyness and giggled.

He stayed and talked with Linley a while longer, mostly listening to Linley remind him to be careful out there. Loa agreed to each reminder.

After leaving Linley's room, Loa made a point of finding the busy Steward Hiri and formally bidding him farewell. Grandpa Hiri stopped working and gave Loa a long look, saying only, "Child, you have to walk your own road. Staying alive matters more than anything." He took a map and several silver coins from a box behind him. "Take these. When you go out, you need to know the way. You can't just wander aimlessly. Take this money." Loa accepted them. He knew that if he did not, old Hiri would not feel comfortable letting him leave.

When he emerged from the Baruch Mansion, the sunlight had already grown somewhat dazzling. Loa did not immediately go to say goodbye to the other townspeople. Instead, he found a secluded corner, set down his pack, and silently began circulating the "Qi" within his body.

After yesterday's hellish sprint, a sleepless night spent sitting still, and the farewell to his dear friend just now, his emotions had risen and fallen violently. Now that he had calmed down a little, he suddenly noticed something different within his body.

The "Qi" that had remained at Rank 2 Perfection for so long was now flowing more smoothly and powerfully. Wherever he directed his thoughts, the surging power met with a little less resistance and moved with greater harmony and ease. He tried punching a discarded brick in the corner without using his full strength. With a dull thump, fine cracks actually appeared across its surface.

Rank 3 Warrior!

The barrier that had troubled him for so long had actually broken silently under yesterday's all-out run and tremendous mental shock. His strength, speed, endurance, and control over "Qi" had all reached a new level. The breakthrough had not been earth-shattering, but it was utterly solid, as though it had come naturally.

Feeling the newfound strength within him, Loa drew a deep breath and put his pack back on. The increase in strength eased his sadness at parting a little and gave him more confidence about the road ahead.

He began making his farewells around town. There was no fanfare. He simply sought out familiar faces and approached them one by one.

Uncle Pete, the mason, was leading a group helping a neighbor repair a half-collapsed roof. Hearing that Loa was leaving, he wiped the sweat from his face, pulled several still-warm flatbreads from inside his clothes, and thrust them into his hands. "Take these to eat on the road! Make a name for yourself, lad!"

Old Brown, the cobbler, was tidying up outside his shop, one corner of which had collapsed. At the news, he sighed, went inside to rummage around, and brought out a sturdy pair of partly worn leather boots. "These have thick soles. They'll last, and they should more or less fit you. The roads out there are long. Don't neglect your feet."

Auntie Anna from the general store still had red eyes. Her shop had suffered terrible losses, but when she saw Loa, she rallied herself and packed him a small bag of salt and a little packet of sugar lumps. "You can scrape by at home, but you need supplies on the road. You can't do without salt. The sugar... suck on a piece when you're feeling bad."

Grandpa Mund, the hunter, said little. He pulled Loa aside and pressed an exceptionally sharp short hunting knife and a coil of tough rope into his hands, then quickly whispered a few pointers on finding his bearings in the wilderness, locating water, and watching for signs of beasts.

Finally, he went near the training grounds. Hillman was leading a group of half-grown children in clearing broken stones from the grounds, preparing to resume training in the future. Seeing Loa approach, Hillman told the others to keep working and came over himself.

"Leaving?" Hillman asked.

"Yes, Uncle Hillman." Loa nodded.

Hillman looked him up and down, seeming to notice the change in his aura, and gave a slight nod. "Rank 3? Not bad. You're stronger than some adults now." Most adult men in Wushan Town were around Rank 2. He patted Loa's shoulder, his hand as heavy as ever. "Remember what I told you. Wushan Town is your home. Its doors are always open to you. If you're tired or have been mistreated, come back."

"I'll remember. Thank you, Uncle Hillman." Loa bowed deeply.

After saying goodbye to everyone, Loa looked back one last time at the land that had once been so familiar, now scarred everywhere yet stubbornly recovering. The blazing sun stood high overhead, shortening his shadow.

He turned his back on Wushan Town, tightened the pack on his shoulders, gripped the hilt of the sword on his back, and set off.

He followed the bluestone-paved road out of town toward the main road leading into the distance. His steps were heavy at first, but grew steadier and faster as he walked.

He did not know what awaited him ahead-the perilous Magical Beast Mountain Range, unfamiliar great cities, stronger opponents, or unknown opportunities. But he knew that from this moment onward, he would no longer be merely Loa of Wushan Town's Blacksmith Shop.

His road lay beneath his feet, at the tip of his sword, amid the boundless world.

(End of volume one. Um... this is my first time writing a novel, and there really are far too many things I need to improve. I'll keep working hard.)