The road was peaceful the next day. Loa encountered neither another "Black Whirlwind" blocking his way nor any other trouble. He followed the main road as it grew wider and busier with carts, horses, and travelers. As noon approached, a tall, unbroken gray line finally appeared on the horizon.
As he drew closer, the gray line gradually revealed its towering outline-city walls! They rose so high they seemed about to pierce the clouds, built from enormous gray-white stones. Their surfaces bore the mottled marks of weather and time, yet those traces only made them seem more massive and imposing. The walls stretched in both directions farther than the eye could see, like an ancient beast crouching upon the earth.
The closer he came, the more the clamor and heat of the enormous city washed over him. The main road became a broad, stone-paved avenue wide enough for several carriages abreast, filled with rumbling vehicles and streams of pedestrians. Their clothing varied widely: some wore finery, others simple clothes, and others carried weapons and looked travel-worn. The air held a mixture of dust, livestock odors, food aromas, and an indescribable restless atmosphere peculiar to a vast gathering of people.
As he passed through the immense gateway, so tall he had to crane his neck to look up and casting a deep shadow, Loa felt as though he had crossed an invisible membrane, stepping from the relatively quiet countryside into a seething whirlpool.
He had reached Fenlai City.
The sight before him instantly swept away the fatigue of his days on the road and left the boy from Wushan Town more awestruck than he had ever been.
Straight, broad streets crisscrossed the city, their surfaces paved with level stone slabs so clean that hardly any dirt was visible. Shops lined both sides, their banners and signs a riot of colors: silk shops, weapons shops, potion shops, magic-item shops-though Loa could only gaze at their faintly glowing signs from afar-restaurants, inns... They stood side by side as far as he could see. Respectably dressed citizens, hawking vendors, patrolling city guards, clerics hurrying past in religious robes, and men and women clearly dressed as mercenaries or adventurers, carrying blades and swords, all formed an unending stream of people.
What attracted Loa most were the food stalls lining the streets. Thick soup bubbled in steaming cauldrons, meat cutlets and sausages sizzled on iron griddles, and plump white stuffed and plain buns steamed in bamboo baskets. There were also all sorts of pastries and snacks he could not name, but whose aromas filled the air. The vendors shouted at the tops of their lungs, their loud and varied calls blending into a noisy symphony full of everyday life.
"Freshly cooked pan-fried cutlets! Two coppers apiece!"
"Honey-roasted chicken wings! Sweet but never cloying!"
"Authentic royal-capital pea cakes! Cool off in the heat!"
The aromas kept wafting into his nose, and after more than half a day on the road, Loa's stomach betrayed him with a growl. He felt the shriveled little cloth pouch inside his clothes that held everything he owned, swallowed, and forced himself to look away.
Prosperity, bustle, an atmosphere full of opportunity and vitality. But Loa knew very well that behind it all, one thing was needed to sustain it-money.
Squeezing through the crowd, he finally found a kindly-looking old man to ask, "Sir, where is the largest place in the city that sells battle qi manuals or cultivation books?"
The old man looked him over and pointed toward the east of the city. "The largest? That would be the Hall of Wisdom, over in the eastern noble district. But young man, the things there aren't cheap."
After thanking the old man, Loa headed east. The farther east he went, the tidier the streets became, the more elegant the buildings, and the more luxurious the clothes of the passersby. At last, on a relatively quiet street, he saw an imposing four-story stone building with a gilded sign hanging over its entrance-"Hall of Wisdom."
He took a deep breath and went inside. The interior was spacious and bright, with rows of tall shelves filled with all manner of books and scrolls, and even thin crystal sheets giving off faint elemental fluctuations. The air smelled of paper, ink, and a faint fragrance resembling camphorwood. A few well-dressed customers browsed quietly, while attendants in neat uniforms conducted themselves with impeccable courtesy.
Loa went to the section marked "Battle-qi fundamentals and introduction," his gaze sweeping over the beautifully bound books. "A detailed introduction to Red Flame Battle-qi," "Azure Wind Art (first three levels)," "Rock Manual (fundamentals)"... His heartbeat quickened slightly. But when his eyes landed on the little brass price tags beneath the books, his heart sank.
The cheapest book, "Basic battle-qi guidance and tempering," was priced at 50 gold coins.
He stole a look at the other sections. Even the "Common Magical Beasts Illustrated Guide of the Continent (abridged edition)" cost several dozen silver coins. And what did he have inside his clothes? A dozen or so silver coins and a few dozen coppers. Converted into the same currency, that was not even enough to cover a fraction of the cheapest manual's price.
Poverty doused what little excitement he had felt upon entering the great city like a bucket of cold water. In Wushan Town, a few silver coins could give a family a decent living for a month. Here, they could not even buy the most basic introductory book.
He silently left the Hall of Wisdom. The afternoon sunlight was rather dazzling. His most pressing need was to find somewhere to stay, then work out how to earn money. His cultivation could not stop, but staying alive had to come first.
Rather than continuing toward the prosperous eastern district, he turned back and headed for the southern district he had passed earlier, where things looked noisier and the buildings were lower and more tightly packed. The streets here were somewhat narrower and not as clean, and the air held more of the smells of daily life, along with some less pleasant odors. Prices, however, were correspondingly lower.
He compared several inns before settling on a small establishment with an old but reasonably clean storefront. For five copper coins a day, he rented an attic room barely large enough for a bed and a small table. The ceiling was so low that he could almost touch it when he stood, but the window offered a view of one corner of the street outside, and the ventilation was adequate.
Once settled, he took stock of his possessions: one Magic Crystal Core, thirteen silver coins, and forty-five copper coins. That was everything.
After a night's rest, Loa went out early the next morning to look for work. Naturally, his first thought was his old trade-blacksmithing. Fenlai City was so large that it was bound to have plenty of smithies.
He wandered through the southern and western districts-the latter a mixture of commoners' neighborhoods and commercial areas-and indeed saw many smithies, their clanging ringing endlessly in his ears. Yet when he worked up the courage to go inside and ask whether they were hiring, the answers were much the same.
"Taking apprentices? Of course! Food and lodging included, three years learning the trade, and you take whatever beatings and scoldings you're given. No wages until you finish your apprenticeship," a bushy-bearded master smith said as he swung his hammer without looking up.
"Young fellow wants to learn a trade? Certainly. Sign a contract. All proceeds from anything you forge for five years belong to the shop. After five years, we'll see how you've done." The proprietor of another shop worked his abacus without so much as lifting his eyelids.
"We only take experienced hands. Apprentices? No."
He asked at seven or eight shops in succession, with much the same results. Being an "apprentice" was almost equivalent to selling himself to a master. Not only would he earn nothing, but his personal freedom would also be severely restricted, with contracts commonly lasting years. This was completely different from the concept of a "job" in his memories of "past-life wisdom," with its basic wages and clearly defined working hours. Back in Wushan Town, Old Jack had been strict when teaching him smithing, but he had never treated him as a servant. Food, clothing, and daily necessities had never been lacking. It had been more like a grandfather passing his craft down to a grandson.
The harsh reality lay before him: he had no acquaintances to recommend him, no money to grease palms, and no standing as "one of their own" who had apprenticed from childhood. Quickly establishing himself and earning an income through his craft was almost impossible.
He tried looking for other work, too. Waiting tables at a restaurant? They thought he was too young and did not look quick-witted enough. Hauling cargo at the docks? That required strong adult laborers, and they shook their heads at his build. Working as a shop assistant? They wanted either a guarantor or local household registration. Otherwise, there were only odd jobs with wages so low they barely covered food, and competition was fierce.
After wandering aimlessly around the city for two days, his purse had grown a little thinner, but he still had no prospects for work. Behind Fenlai City's prosperity lay harsh rules of survival and fierce competition. For a boy from elsewhere with no one to turn to and nothing to his name, finding a path that would both support him and leave time for cultivation was far too difficult.
On the third afternoon, he sat on a street corner, gnawing a hard, dry coarse-flour flatbread and watching the bustling crowds, his heart somewhat heavy. Did he really have to sign an apprenticeship contract like the smithies wanted, little better than selling himself, and bind his most precious years to an anvil in exchange for bare survival and that faint hope of completing his apprenticeship?
He could not accept that.
"Hey, kid, new here? Looking so glum-can't find work, can you?" Beside him, an old mercenary with a scarred face squatted in the sun by a wall. He glanced at Loa and grinned, showing a mouthful of yellow teeth.
Loa glanced at him without speaking.
The old mercenary did not mind and continued on his own. "Fenlai City looks all bright and shiny, but earning your bread here isn't easy. Without connections or some real skills, making a respectable living in this city is hard! For people like us, with nothing much tying us down and a few moves up our sleeves, we might be better off trying our luck 'over there.'"
"Over there?" Something stirred in Loa's mind.
"The Mercenary Guild, of course!" The old mercenary pointed his chin somewhere toward the western district. "Taking commissions, running errands, escorting people, finding things, clearing out magical beasts-the low-level kind... There's all sorts of work. How much you earn depends on your ability, and your luck. If you die or get crippled, the guild won't do a thing. You bear the consequences yourself. But at least you're free, and when the money comes fast, it really comes fast."
Mercenaries...
Loa remembered the men he had encountered outside Wushan Town who were being hunted down, and the red-robed mage riding a Claw Beast. This path was undoubtedly dangerous; its freedom came with bloodshed. But now, penniless and at a dead end, it seemed to be his only choice for quickly obtaining resources without completely restricting his path of cultivation.
No, joining the army would be even more restrictive. Then becoming a mercenary seemed to be the only viable "occupation" before him.
He finished the remaining flatbread in a few bites, stood, and brushed the dust from his clothes. The uncertainty in his eyes gradually gave way to a sharp, resolute look.
Then he would go take a look at the Mercenary Guild.
At least there, he could fight for a future with the sword in his hand.
Before you continue