While the Passos family dispatched a large number of cultivators to hunt him down, Chris was already thirty kilometers away from Flameforge, traveling on a quiet road alongside a caravan that moved steadily forward.
On one of the wagons, a young man sat silently. It was none other than Chris himself.
After killing Zaman, the Passos family’s master, Chris had fled Flameforge without delay. On the road, he had come across this caravan. Spending a few Essence Stones, he successfully joined their ranks.
In Aethelgard, transportation was far less convenient than on Earth. There were no airplanes, trains, or high-speed railways. Trade between cities was primarily handled by caravans. However, the roads were fraught with danger-beasts and bandits roamed freely.
Traveling alone in such a world often meant certain death. Beasts and bandits killed without hesitation. For safety, most people chose to pay a small fee in Essence Stones to join a caravan heading to the next city.
Caravans typically hired Aetherbinding cultivators as guards. Ordinary caravans could only afford Aether or Pinnacle-level cultivators, while the wealthier ones employed Solstice-level cultivators for protection.
The caravan Chris was traveling with was a mid-tier one, consisting of thirty to forty wagons. Most of the wagons carried goods, with only a few designated for passengers. The caravan employed about twenty to thirty guards, and their captain was a Pinnacle-level Aetherbinding cultivator at the early stages.
In Aethelgard, obtaining Essence Stones was no easy task, particularly for independent cultivators without family or sect support. They often took on missions at guild halls to earn their keep, with caravan guard duty being a popular option due to its relatively high pay. However, the risks were equally high.
Bandits posed the greatest threat. These outlaws, often cultivators themselves, turned to robbery in desperation. Banditry was a lucrative trade-ambushes on roadsides were common. When a caravan or traveler passed by, the bandits would strike and loot everything. Ruthless as they were, they often left no survivors.
That said, larger caravans belonging to powerful factions were rarely targeted. Bandits feared retaliation from these influential groups. Moreover, many caravans negotiated by paying tolls to avoid conflict. Bandits understood the balance-they avoided actions that might provoke widespread outrage and lead to crackdowns.
Chris, now at the mid-stage Pinnacle level, was no ordinary cultivator. His combat experience allowed him to hold his own even against late-stage Pinnacle cultivators. His primary reason for joining the caravan, however, was simple-he didn’t know the roads. Traveling with a caravan made the journey easier and safer.
As the sun began to dip below the horizon, the caravan came to a halt.
Night travel in the wilderness was extremely dangerous. Darkness brought out the beasts, making the roads a deadly trap. Just as Aetherbinding cultivators hunted beasts for their Heartstones, beasts hunted cultivators as a source of nourishment. For beasts, the flesh of a cultivator was a powerful resource that could greatly enhance their strength.
In Aethelgard, survival was a brutal game of the strong preying on the weak. Here, humans killed humans, humans killed beasts, and beasts killed humans. Strength was the only guarantee of survival. To stand firm in this world, one had to grow stronger.
“Hey, young man! Come over for dinner!”
A middle-aged man, around forty years old, called out to Chris.
Hearing this, Chris climbed down from the wagon and walked over with a smile. “Lee, are we setting up camp here for the night?”
The man, Lee, was the caravan’s guard captain, a Pinnacle-level cultivator at the early stage. Since joining the caravan, Chris had quickly become acquainted with him.
Lee nodded. “Beasts are active around here. Traveling at night is too dangerous.”
For Lee and his men, earning a few Essence Stones wasn’t worth risking their lives. They weren’t about to make a loss on their efforts.
Chris joined Lee for dinner. The caravan’s food was surprisingly good-there was meat and even wine.
Dozens of people sat together, sharing a meal under the open sky. Life in Aethelgard was far harsher than on Earth. Cultivators lived on the edge of life and death, walking a perilous path. Aetherbinding itself defied the natural order, fraught with countless dangers that could claim a life at any moment.
Lee poured a strong drink and handed it to Chris. “Here, have some.”
Chris took a swig, and his stomach instantly felt like it was on fire. The liquor of Aethelgard was far stronger than that of Earth. Cultivators, with their enhanced physiques, required higher alcohol concentrations. A single sip of this liquor would overwhelm an ordinary person.
Chris, however, enjoyed it. He took several more gulps before turning to the roasted meat.
Bonfires had been lit in the clearing, and over them, slabs of meat were being roasted. Most of it came from First Grade beasts-creatures equivalent to Aether-level cultivators. They posed little threat to experienced guards like Lee and his men, who had hunted them along the way to provide food for the group.
Chris grabbed a leg of an unidentifiable beast and took a large bite. The flavor exploded in his mouth, rich and savory. Compared to Earth’s livestock-animals raised on feed-this meat was on a whole other level. Aethelgard’s beasts grew by absorbing the world’s natural energy, making their meat not only delicious but highly nutritious.
Through his conversations with Lee, Chris learned that this caravan belonged to the Tomczak family, a prominent clan based in Stormwatch. The family had organized this trip to transport goods purchased in Flameforge back to Stormwatch for sale.
In Aethelgard, families like the Tomczaks were typically Aetherbinding clans, while ordinary people were little more than ants-struggling to survive, let alone build legacies.