Chapter 72: Almost Home
The dim amber glow of the oil lamps flickered one last time against the canvas walls as the deep twilight outside finally surrendered to the dark, starless night.
The heavy, rhythmic snoring of the drunken villagers continued to echo through the communal tent, a peaceful sound that felt completely detached from the violent world Evan and Peaker had been forced to navigate over the past two days.
Peaker pushed himself up from his fur cushion, his joints popping with a series of dull, aching cracks.
He looked down at the empty clay pitcher in his hand, then turned his gaze toward the sleeping form of the village elder who had welcomed them with open arms, hot meat, and bitter ale when they had looked like walking corpses.
"They are good people," Peaker said softly, his voice barely a whisper as he adjusted the leather strap of his weapon harness.
"In a world like this, offering shelter to strangers without demanding to see their information or clan seals... it’s rare. They treated us like family when they had absolutely no reason to do so."
Evan stood up smoothly, his dark eyes fixed on the entrance of the tent.
He reached into his wide leather belt pouch, his fingers brushing past various tactical items until they hit a heavy, velvet lined drawstring bag.
With a light tug, he pulled the bag out, the contents inside emitting a faint, rhythmic humming sound that resonated with pure, dense spiritual energy.
He loosened the string and poured a handful of glittering, crimson gems directly onto the rough wooden table at the center of the tent.
The stones caught the dim lamp light, casting a deep, blood red reflection against the canvas ceiling.
They left exactly fifty blood stones neatly stacked in the center of the table.
For an independent village of mortals and low tier rogue cultivators living in the isolated Sunflower Valley, fifty blood stones was an absolute fortune.
It was enough wealth to buy provisions for a month, reinforce their wooden defensive palisades against future level three beast incursions, and purchase high quality medicinal herbs from traveling merchants without having to risk their lives hunting in the deep forests. It was a silent, massive token of gratitude for the brief moment of peace the villagers had provided. Like they had done previously when they were disguised as merchants.
"That should cover the ale," Evan muttered with a faint, sharp smirk, tucking the empty velvet pouch back into his clothes.
He lightly tapped his chest pocket, ensuring the hibernating, damaged immortal caterpillar inside remained perfectly secure and undisturbed by his movements.
"Let’s move before anyone wakes up and tries to refuse the payment out of pride."
Peaker nodded, his expression turning serious as he pulled the heavy canvas flap aside.
The cool, crisp night air instantly rushed into the tent, carrying the sweet, natural scent of the millions of sunflowers swaying in the dark valley.
They slipped out into the shadows of the campsite, moving with silence.
The valley was entirely quiet now, the earlier signs of the lightning wolf skirmish completely swallowed by the darkness of the tree line.
They navigated the edge of the perimeter until they reached the small, grassy clearing near the sparkling river where they had left their mounts.
The two horses had fully utilized the past few hours to relax themselves, drinking their fill from the clear river and grazing on the rich, mineral heavy grass of the valley.
Their earlier exhaustion had vanished, their powerful legs steady and their dark eyes alert as they noticed their riders approaching.
Working efficiently in the dark, Evan and Peaker checked the leather cinches, tightened the saddlebags, and ensured their stirrups were properly aligned.
They mounted them with a fluid, synchronized motion, the leather creaking softly under their weight.
With a gentle nudge of his heels, Evan guided his horse toward the main dirt path that cut through the endless yellow fields, and Peaker fell into formation right beside him.
The horses broke into a steady, rhythmic trot, their hooves striking the packed earth with a comforting, repetitive tempo.
As they left the vibrant borders of the Sunflower Valley behind, the open plains gradually gave way to a desolate, rocky terrain. The bright, chaotic colors of the flowers were replaced by jagged limestone ridges and ancient, twisted trees that looked like skeletal hands reaching toward the dark sky. The air grew progressively colder, a sharp, biting wind sweeping down from the northern peaks that caused their cloaks to billow violently behind them.
They traveled and traveled in absolute silence, neither man inclined to break the heavy stillness of the night.
Their minds were occupied by the massive, ticking clock hanging over their heads.
Back in the Shu Clan territory, the vaporized remains of the three Supreme Elders and the massive, cleanly severed fissure splitting the ancient mountain would eventually be discovered.
When the sects realized an entire major clan’s leadership had been completely erased in a single night by an unclassified power, the political landscape of the entire Northern Continent would descend into a bloodbath of suspicion and war.
Evan maintained a firm grip on the reins, his eyes constantly scanning the dark ridges for any signs of rogue cultivators or lingering beast packs.
Every hour that passed was a victory, a wider gap between them and the catastrophic crater they had left behind.
After one and a half hour of relentless, uninterrupted travel through the bleak and winding terrain, the jagged rocky cliffs finally began to flatten out into a wide, familiar plateau.
The horses, sensing that they were nearing the end of their long journey, automatically quickened their pace, their ears pricking forward in anticipation of a warm stable.
Evan slowed his mount to a gentle walk as they rounded a massive, final bend in the dirt highway.
He lifted his chin, his dark eyes narrowing as he peered through the thick midnight mist that clung to the lowlands.
There, looming majestically against the dark horizon, they finally saw the walls of the sect.
The massive, towering structures of rose dozens of meters into the air, looking like an impenetrable barrier designed to keep the chaos of the wild world at bay.
To anyone else, the imposing fortress would look like a terrifying prison of absolute authority. But to Evan and Peaker, after surviving a literal god of destruction and an entire squad of lethal lightning wolves, the cold, familiar sight of those dark ironstone walls felt like the only safe harbor left in the world.
Peaker pulled back on his reins, bringing his horse to a halt right next to Evan.
He stared at the wall, his breathing deep and steady as he let out a long, slow exhalation.
"We made it back," Peaker said quietly, the tension finally beginning to drain from his shoulders as he looked at the massive gates.
"The sect is still standing. Nobody knows what happened out there yet... I guess."
Evan stared at the distant guards, his expression completely unreadable as he felt the faint, rhythmic pulse of the immortal beast resting against his chest.
They were entering the viper’s nest with the ultimate forbidden prize hidden in their clothes, and the real game of survival was only just beginning.
"Yeah," Evan said, his voice cold and determined as he flicked the reins to urge his horse forward toward the gates.
"Let’s go and give them our report."
