With the road found, Krez had no need to be on the lookout anymore. He blasted forward at full speed, pushing his body to the absolute limit, dust billowing behind him like a stampede. Why was Krez running at such speeds? Well, he decided that he wasn't going to use a leaf to wipe anymore, and a log wanted to be added to nature's collection.
What Krez didn't know, because he left the flat plains and entered a more hilly region, was that a village just a few hills away from him was in full panic mode. A guard standing on the village's 20ft tall walls saw a billowing cloud of dust and assumed it was a beast tide.
The guard had seen only one other beast tide in his life, so he knew what the signs looked like, and the dust cloud Krez was producing was exactly like a beast tide in full sprint.The guard had rung the emergency bell, strictly reserved for a beast tide. It had been 18 years since this bell last rang for the village. Though not tiny, the village wasn't large enough to be called a city.
Women and children rushed toward the village chief's house, the largest residence resembling a manor with its own sturdy fence. Guards at the gate welcomed the villagers inside, only a minimum number of guards stayed at the village chief's manor. The majority of guards followed an elderly man in thick battle armor with ornate designs, heading in the direction of the city gates where the billowing dust cloud indicated Krez's rapid approach.
Krez finally saw the village as he crested the final hill blocking his view. The village was on a hill itself, the village position allowed Krez to get a glimpse inside past the walls. It featured numerous Italian-styled houses and villas, with iconic white walls and orange tile roofs scattered across the landscape.
The sight reinvigorated Krez, pushing his speed even further. He thought he was going to have to squat in a bush, but the village gave him hope. As he finally saw the gate, his excitement turned to concern. Numerous men and women, all in the same armor, stood outside the gate with weapons raised.
Krez noticed the guards first. Shortly after, the older gentleman at the front of the guard pack, wearing ornate armor, saw Krez. The older man exclaimed, "It's a cultivator!" and the phrase echoed through the guards, accompanied by numerous whispers.
A guard asked the older man, "What should we do, chief?" The older man responded, "Stand down, but keep your weapons close. From the speed that cultivator is running, it tells me he is at a higher stage than me. We have hope; cultivators can be reasoned with, while a beast tide means death for any number of us."
Krez didn't slow down at all; after all, the log was beginning to crown. Krez had gotten close, and the old man was quite shocked when he saw Krez's young age with slick-backed, wild hair and a scraggly beard. He looked a bit like a beggar, but Krez's armor spoke a different tune. The old man, with respect, shouted out, "Esteemed cultivator, what's the purpose of your visit?"
"TOILET! TOILET! TOILET!" Krez shouted three times. The old man's face displayed an indescribable look, while the guards experienced a range of emotions, from the depths of hell at the prospect of facing a beast tide to overwhelming ridiculousness. The old man simply raised his hand and pointed to a door on the outside wall of the village, it was the guards bathroom when they were on patrol.
Krez looked at the door, smiled, and thought, "Thank goodness." He zoomed past the old man and guards, opened the door, and slammed it shut. The speed at which Krez closed the door caused the surrounding wall to shake a bit. Luckily, both the wall and the door were incredibly sturdy.
The old man walked toward the bathroom door, and he could hear a sound inside. "PLOP, PLOP, PLOP." Krez, inside, was almost sobbing after half a year of bush squatting; he was finally using a toilet. And a pretty modern one at that – it could even flush, indicating the existence of plumbing. Not a bad sign. He did notice the bathroom was illuminated by a lantern, which could mean electricity hadn't been discovered yet. Just taking a dump taught him a lot about this world.
Embarrassment crossed Krez's face as he raised his voice and asked, "You got toilet paper? There's none in here." Horror fell on the old man's face, and he shouted loud enough for Krez to hear, "Who didn't replace the toilet paper? I'll beat whoever used the last bit of it without replacing it!" A nearby guard gulped.
The old man, having explored the world when he was young, knew one thing about young cultivators – you had to give them face. If someone sullied a young cultivator's reputation, it could be a death sentence. He didn't want to offend a young cultivator stronger than him; after all, it had taken him 60 years of cultivation to reach just the 1st stage of qi gathering. The old man then shouted ordering all the guards, "Find toilet paper!"
Within a minute of Krez asking for toilet paper, he heard a knock on the bathroom door, and the old man stated, "I have toilet paper, senior." Krez cracked the door, grabbed the toilet paper, and replied, "Thank you." The old man was bewildered by Krez's polite response; he never expected this young cultivator not to be obnoxious. From the old man's view, a cultivator that young past stage 1 cultivation must be an elite out training.
Krez looked at the toilet paper, genuinely thankful. He had been half scared that the old man would hand him leaves. While the toilet paper wasn't as soft and sturdy as the kind from his world, it was a million times better than using tree leaves.