The half-naked duo appeared in a sudden, silent rush of displaced air. One moment, a patch of dappled forest floor was empty. The next, Gen stood there, barefoot on soft moss, his bare torso pale against the vibrant green. Lorel appeared beside him, similarly clad only in her simple wrap and trousers, her dark hair wild.
Gen took a deep, shuddering breath. He drank in the air—thick with the scent of pine, damp earth, and living things. The distant chatter of birds, the rustle of small creatures in the underbrush, the solid, unyielding feel of real ground beneath his feet. Most importantly, the warm, yellow-white glow of a **real sun** filtering through the canopy above his head.
He let out a long, satisfied sigh that seemed to release four months of void-silence. "It is so good to be back on earth."
Lorel laughed, the sound bright and free. "Technically, we were still on earth, just… elsewhere. But you're right. It feels good." She looked around, her sharp eyes scanning the unfamiliar trees. "Is this still the Four Kingdoms?"
"The only way to know," Gen said, already moving, "is to ask around."
He strode forward without hesitation, but Lorel hesitated. She glanced down at herself, then at him. Currently, Gen was barefoot, bare-chested, and streaked with the grime of the Forgotten Realm. She wasn't exactly any different. Could they just walk out into the open like this? But Gen Jiang didn't seem to care about such details. He was back, and he wanted to see his friends. That was all that mattered at the moment. With a small shake of her head and a faint smile, she followed.
***
A few minutes later, they sat in a small, rustic inn at the edge of a village. They were now dressed in simple, plain white robes the innkeeper's wife had provided for a few Milky Stones. Freshly scrubbed, their hair still damp, they looked like a different pair.
Now fully cleaned, Lorel's features seemed to glow. The stark vulnerability of the Forgotten Realm was gone, replaced by a serene, polished beauty that attracted more than a few glances from other patrons in the smoky room. She drank from a cup of hot tea, using both hands, her posture straight and composed. She didn't seem bothered by the stares; there was something newly sharp in her eyes, a quiet authority that made the onlookers observe from a distance without daring to approach.
Gen, on his part, was too focused on eating to notice anything. His knee was almost already buried under a small mountain of simple food—roasted fowl, steamed buns, a bowl of thick stew. Holding a piece of meat, he spoke between hearty chews. "There is nothing more delicious than this. How I missed it."
Lorel watched him, genuinely amused by his single-minded fervor.
The old man running the inn shuffled back to their table, bowing slightly. "Esteemed cultivators, what else would you like? I have gathered all the information you asked for. Here it is." He placed a series of papers on the rough wooden table. The notes were in a rushed, practical script.
Gen couldn't quite read all of it, or at least, he was more interested in his food than anything. Thus, Lorel picked it up. Her eyes scanned the lines quickly.
"Gen," she said, her voice low. "We aren't in the heart of the Four Kingdoms. We're at the far eastern edge, in the Province of Chu. It's a small, quiet place. No major martial schools here. Mostly… normal people."
Gen, after swallowing a large mouthful, cleaned his lips with the back of his hand. "So all these people are not cultivators? So strange. I thought everyone in the world learned the Wheels of Destiny."
The old man smiled, shaking his head. "The Wheels of Destiny require incredible talent, young master. Normal people, not from powerful sects or families… they don't even dare to dream of it. It's a path for the blessed."
Lorel then calculated, tapping the paper. "With our current abilities, it should take about a day or two to get back to the border of Heaven's Gate. It shouldn't be too complicated."
Gen nodded, finally pushing his cleared plate aside. "I'm good. We can leave even now. I want to know how Madame Su and the others are doing. Are they safe? It has been four months since we were stuck in that place. How have things changed?"
The old man, listening to them, gave a worried glance towards the inn's door. "Esteemed cultivators… it is not safe to travel at this period. Those bandits that call themselves 'Revolutionaries' loiter around more frequently now. Another part of Chu was attacked just last week. Young children were kidnapped."
Listening to that, Gen frowned deeply. The name was not new to him. On his way to the Four Kingdoms with Faceless Ting and the others, he had met another group decimated by those same 'Revolutionaries'—the same group that had attacked the arena on the day of Varja's fight.
Lorel's expression sharpened. "What is their goal? Why cause such havoc?"
Gen shrugged his shoulders, but his eyes were cold. "No matter what. As long as anyone crosses my path, I wouldn't mind evening the score with them, too."
The old man wrung his hands, his worry palpable. "Don't be too rash, esteemed cultivator. Many passing cultivators have been killed here already. This place is no longer safe as it was in the past, at least." Then he bowed again and shuffled away, leaving them to their thoughts.
Gen looked at his disappearing figure with a hint of pity. *Back then, when my father was alive, almost all places like Chu, these far-off provinces with no cultivators, were safe. Free of dictators and warlords. But now… anarchy is not something uncommon. Everyone is too worried about their own survival to be bothered by places like this.*
Lorel looked at him, reading the melancholy in his gaze. "Don't worry. One Damocles after the other. We will surely bring back the serenity of our world."
Gen nodded, the determination returning. He stood up, and Lorel followed. The duo of incomparably young and dazzling cultivators left the inn, the eyes of the patrons following them out.
Once outside, they used **Shidow** to ascend into the sky, vanishing into the distance in a flash of controlled energy.
After they left, some men in the inn looked up at the sky where the figures had disappeared.
One, with a calculating glint in his eye, muttered, "Did I hear it right? They said they were trapped for four months. Isn't that coincidentally the time around which it was said Gen Jiang killed the Divine General?"
Another figure, bulkier, scoffed and shook his head. "No way. Just look at how he ate, like a pig! That youth? What's legendary about him? He didn't have any aura of a hero."
The first man smiled thinly. "You're probably right. There's no way a figure like Gen Jiang would come to a place like Chu. What for? It's a forgotten land…"
***
Gen and Lorel moved at incredible speed through the air, navigating forward, unaware of how far their names had already travelled.
After a period of silent flight, Gen spoke, his voice carried by the wind. "Lorel… that old man was very kind to us. Is there anything we could do for Chu before we left?"
Lorel stopped mid-air, hovering beside him as if she could read his mind. She considered it. "Normally, cultivators have no great need for Milky Stones. But their value comes from the fact they are used to open sacred grounds, like the Forgotten Realm and others. And since cultivators have no time to mine them, they'd rather cultivate, so they leave the mining to normal humans. Cultivators would exchange their protection or services for Milky Stones. It was a fair trade." Her expression darkened. "But because of the anarchy spreading in Chu, these people are now forced to mine for free for the Revolutionaries. If we want to help, we might have to fight our way to those people. It would mean another bloodbath."
Gen nodded, looking into the distance. He knew it wouldn't solve the core problem of the Revolutionaries. Not until all the Damocles were cleared. But if he could somehow lighten their burden, even a little, he would do it.
"Let's take a look," he said, his voice firm.
The duo shifted their direction, moving not west towards Heaven's Gate, but towards the mountainous region indicated by the old man's notes. Towards the Milky Stone mines.
And as they drew closer, a faint, oppressive aura could be felt on the wind—an aura of cultivated power that did not belong to normal humans. It was the sharp, greedy scent of conflict.