That moment of relief didn't last long. I was far too paranoid and way too close to the forest for comfort. The adrenaline that had masked my pain began to fade, and my leg throbbed worse with every step. I had to keep moving and find help before things got critical. Thankfully, taking Primal Vitality had been the right call. I honestly thought I'd need to stop and rest more often, but I still felt capable of pushing forward.
Taking a deep breath, I steadied myself and continued along the dirt road leading out of the forest. I trudged on for what felt like ages, the terrain taking its toll. Climbing up and down the hills only made my injured leg scream louder with every step.
The road was the only sign of civilization I could see. The sky was completely clear, and the sun was relentless, beating down and roasting me alive. At first, I didn't mind—it was a nice change from the forest's darkness—but as my clothes dried out from the mud, my tracksuit started feeling unbearably hot. If my t-shirt hadn't been sacrificed as a makeshift bandage, I'd have taken off the jacket to cool down. All I could do now was endure the heat and hope the road would lead me somewhere.
Just as doubt crept in about whether this path went anywhere at all, I spotted something up ahead—dark shapes moving in the distance to my right. My heart raced. Was it a pack of wild animals? Monsters? Were they about to intercept me? But as I got closer, I realized I was approaching a crossroad. What I'd seen was some kind of caravan—a line of horse-drawn wagons flanked by mounted riders.
Excitement and nerves battled within me. On the one hand, my leg hurt like hell, and the idea of someone helping me sounded like a dream. On the other hand, I wasn't sure how people in this world might react to a stranger like me. No cars—only horses and wagons. It screamed "pre-modern," which made me worry. Would they be suspicious? Nobles too proud to help a peasant? Or worse, xenophobic?
Then there was the issue of language. The System messages had mentioned a multiversal translator. Did that mean I'd be able to talk to them? Or was it for something else entirely? There was only one way to find out. I reached the crossroad before the caravan, even though they moved faster. They had been farther off when I first spotted them, giving me time to wait at the intersection. Eventually, a rider and three men on foot came forward to meet me. As they drew closer, I couldn't help but notice how fast the men on the ground moved—keeping pace with the horse at what would've been a full sprint for me.
They were all armed, which wasn't exactly reassuring. The rider had a sword at his hip, while the men on foot carried a spear, an axe, and another sword. Thankfully, only the spear-man had his weapon out—it didn't seem like there was an easy way to store it. I raised a hand in greeting, forcing what I hoped was a friendly smile.
"—Hello," I said, my voice cracking slightly.
As they approached, I studied their clothing. They matched the vibe I'd expected from stories about immortal cultivators—vaguely Asian, with hairstyles that reminded me of old Kung-Fu movies I'd loved as a kid. The men on foot wore rough-spun tunics and baggy pants, tied at the ankles, with cloth sashes around their waists and leather armor over their tops. The rider was a different story. His, —pristine, flowing robes practically —screamed "cultivator." His appearance was that of the old Kung Fu Masters in those old movies. He sat straight-backed in the saddle, his expression stern but neutral as he slowed his horse to look me over.
"—What are you doing here?"
He asked. it wasn't English—or any language I recognized—but I understood him perfectly. So the multiversal translator worked for languages after all. "Well, I'm in a bit of trouble," I said, hoping my words translated back. I gestured to my muddy, bloodstained pants with an awkward smile. "I had a run-in with a cat in the forest and got pretty lost. I saw your group and was hoping someone might be able to help." The rider frowned, his gaze sweeping over me.
"—And how do you intend to pay for such aid?"
My heart sank. —Uh', well, I don't have much… I was hoping someone might help out of kindness. If not, maybe just point me toward a town or city, where I can find someone who could.
"—I see," he replied flatly. His expression gave nothing away, and I couldn't tell what he was thinking. I shifted uncomfortably, waiting for him to say more.
"—C'mon, Captain, let's give the kid a break,"
One of the men on foot piped up, surprising me. He looked about my age—maybe younger—and carried a sword. He sounded exasperated.
"It's just some lost kid. —Let's take him back to the caravan, patch him up, and see what we can do, —it's not like it'll cost us anything."
I bristled slightly at being called a kid but swallowed my pride. If they thought of me as young and helpless, maybe they'd be more willing to help. The other two men said nothing, their faces unreadable, though I thought I caught an annoyed glance from the spear-man toward the swordsman. The rider sighed.
"—Wang Jian, I know you're new to this and a bit soft-hearted, but remember the chain of command. People feigning weakness to ambush others—or spirit beasts mimicking humans—are real dangers." My stomach dropped at the mention of spirit beasts. Shape-shifting monsters? —Fantastic...
Wang Jian scoffed.
"—Right, because someone's dumb enough to try robbing a heavily armed caravan—or someone like you, Captain. And spirit beasts? —Aren't they only capable of human forms at —Rank 3?"
The captain smirked.
"—Your confidence is flattering, but I'm not invincible. Stronger people exist, and plenty favor subtlety. As for spirit beasts, many have extraordinary abilities even at lower ranks."
"—So what do we do?" Wang Jian asked, tilting his head in mock concern.
The captain's gaze bore into me, and I fought the urge to squirm. Could cultivators sense lies or, intentions? If so, I hoped I passed whatever test he was giving me.