50th of Season of Fire, 57th year of the 32nd cycle

  Things were in such rapid motion, Newt thought he was dreaming. He was standing on a ship’s deck, rushing towards a chain of distant mountains standing proudly beyond the vast expanse of water. All three of his roommates were there with him, along with Roselilly’s second sister.

  The fourth realm disciple was escorting them on their one-day trip to the Valley of the Lost, but once she saw them there safely, she would return to the Explorer’s Island.

  “Don’t worry, little sister, I’ll be back in a week. That’s about the earliest you could possibly navigate through the first ring of the Valley of the Lost.” The woman reassured Roselilly with a steady voice and a confident smile, the very picture of an aloof fairy. “You just take care of the compass and the map. Remember never to stray from your team. Even if you must flee from attacking spirit beasts, you must maintain visual contact with at least two of them at all times, otherwise you will be lost.”

  She turned towards the rest of the team. “Have you read the books about what to do in case of getting separated?”

  Newt and the Deeproots nodded. The notion was scary, but the odds of someone losing their mind and running straight ahead into the impenetrable, bewildering fog were next to zero. At least Newt hoped nobody on his team was that stupid.

  “What about the bestiary entries?”

  Another round of nods.

  “Good. You’re all set. It might sound strange, but knowing the challenge and knowing your own abilities is the heart of overcoming most challenges.”

  With those encouraging words and a light, tranquil smile, senior apprentice sister Hazel turned around, staring into the distant mountains. Salty mist sprayed around her as the ship cut the waves with unnatural speed. The brown-haired woman was beautiful, as were most female cultivators Newt had met. With a sword hanging from her waist, billowing hair, and perfect posture, she struck quite a heroic figure, standing proudly at the bow and looking contemplative yet serene.

  Elder Woodhopper is prettier.

  Newt pressed his lips together at the silly thought invading his mind.

  “Rose’s senior sister is real pretty, ain’t she.” Newt almost jumped as Jasmine whispered, but did not, feeling proud over his minor success.

  He snapped his head towards her.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Newt stuttered.

  The woman grinned, perfect white teeth making a captivating contrast against her dark skin, painting her smile all the more brilliant.

  “And I guess your face is red because you were running?” she teased, and Newt struggled to come up with an answer. He failed as seconds dragged on and remained silent.

  “I don’t think she’s seeing anyone,” Jasmine said, enjoying Newt’s awkwardness. “Do you want me to ask her?”

  “No,” Newt yelped. “Please don’t.”

  The two just stared at each other, and Newt suddenly felt something was off. Jasmine’s words were teasing, but the glint in her eyes seemed cruel, not playful.

  For some reason, she reminded him of Puresnow. Back when she was trying to spite Dandelion and drag him through mud.

  “Are you angry with me?” Newt’s voice was quieter than a whisper.

  “Furious,” Jasmine’s grin remained unchanged. And yet, despite all her facial muscles not even twitching, that pearly white smile twisted. Instead of amusement, Newt sensed something predatory about it. Something that wanted to claim a pound of his flesh.

  “Why? I’m trying to help. To become a part of the team.”

  Jasmine stared at him, wordlessly asking him not to play dumb. Faced with his genuine confusion, the woman crossed her arms and snorted.

  “If Obi or Rose die, I will kill you myself, sect rules be damned. Got it?”

  Newt nodded. He believed the mission would be simple, but even if there was great danger, he would follow his path and protect everyone. If he failed at the first step, at the first mission after finding himself, he might as well give up cultivation.

  The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  His blush was gone, his eyes brimming with determination as he nodded.

  “All right, I agree.”

  Jasmine gawked, then her eyes and features softened.

  “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.” She drew a breath and looked away from Newt, towards the open sea and the distant land. “It was a stressful time. Everyone was and still is having a difficult time, you included. What I said was unfair. We are all adults, making our own decisions, and blaming it all on a kid—”

  Hey!

  “—is the most immature thing I’ve done in a long time. Sorry.”

  “Hey!” Obsidian chose that moment to drop into the conversation with all the subtlety of a rock. “What are you two whispering all alone?”

  He glared at Newt. “Are you making a pass at my sister?”

  “Kidney stone!” Jasmine looked at him and smiled with much more sincerity than she spared Newt. “I haven’t seen you this lively in ages. You must be a wreck of nerves when you’re beaming so much fake positive energy.”

  “I’m a bit nervous.” Obsidian’s smile faltered before resuming with twice the energy it had before. “But it feels so good to finally leave the sect. Don’t get me wrong, Explorer’s Island is a wonderful place, full of things to do, but when you’ve shut yourself from the world in general, it just becomes a nice-looking prison.”

  It beats a mine, Newt thought, but spoke about something else entirely. “Is Roselilly avoiding me, or does she enjoy her senior sister’s company that much?”

  Roselilly had stuck close to Hazel, like a baby raptor to its mother ever since they departed the sect.

  “I don’t think so.” Jasmine dragged out the words, clearly uncertain. “I think she’s just enjoying the feeling of safety around a higher realm cultivator who wishes her well.”

  Newt nodded, unconvinced.

  That’s quite a coincidence, out of all senior apprentice brothers and sisters, Roselilly’s senior sister is the one accompanying us? It seems intentional, but how did Master know she would come?

  Newt lacked the experience, but Dandelion told him to always keep an eye out for odd happenstances, and their chaperone’s connection with the weakest link in their team seemed suspicious.

  As does the Chamber of Instruction running out of missions, which Obsidian claims has never happened before.

  While Obsidian and his sister chatted, enjoying the air and the view, Newt mulled those thoughts over. Eventually, he decided that if anyone from Explorer’s Gate wished to harm or kill him, all they had to do was not try their best to save him when the sun had decided to sear him into ashes.

  Newt leaned on the railing and pushed those thoughts away. If anyone was pulling the strings behind his mission, he would believe they were doing it for benevolent reasons. He watched the sun shimmer on the clear, azure water, and after a while noticed a school of cartorhynchus darting towards them.

  The agile marine dinosaurs were a foot long from the tip of their cute, grayish-brown snout till the end of their long, slender tail. The tail was flat, like a tadpole’s, and elegant fins replaced the lizard’s legs.

  Around thirty members of the group chased after a much bigger school of thin, yellow fish. The fish stood no chance, revealing the cute, seemingly helpless cartorhynchuses’ ferocious nature as the dinosaurs tore into the fish, biting them in half and feasting on the remains left by the quicker members of their school.

  Are they a school like fish, a pack like raptors and most predators, or a float, like crocodiles?

  Whatever they were, the cartorhynchuses had devoured enough fish and stopped chasing, disappearing from Newt’s line of sight, along with the fish, which stopped swimming frantically once predators stopped chasing.

  They were probably spirit beasts give how fast they were moving, but why couldn’t I see whether they were regular beasts or something more evolved?

  The water’s spiritual energy blocked my third eye, but that makes no sense. Does that mean cultivators can become invisible by swimming?

  Newt doubted it and filed away the thought as something to check in the library once he returned home. He looked at the Deeproot twins, rapidly exchanging whispered words, then his gaze shifted to the two women staring at the rapidly approaching land.

  They are water cultivators. I could ask them, I guess?

  Newt did not like the idea. He was still very much an outsider, and after Jasmine’s tease, he would feel awkward about approaching Hazel.

  Instead, he used the time to think about some of those thoughts he had filed away for later.

  Master said that the subconscious sense of danger steers us away from anything overly or obviously lethal. Do trapping and befuddling spell formations use that sensation as the base principle to fool the mind? If they do, does that principle carry over to the natural spell formations, such as the Valley of the Lost?

  It was an interesting hypothesis, something Elder Longfang certainly knew, maybe even Elder Alabaster, since the woman mentioned she dabbled in spell formations. That train of thought raised another interesting question, did the ancient spell formation scribes invent the technique by harnessing the principle or did they discover the principle after mimicking natural danger zones, like the Valley of the Lost?

  Newt knew his thoughts were idle, but he could already see the port. The ship would land in five minutes, and cultivation was no longer an option. He had made that decision when the voyage started, choosing to mingle with his team, but somehow, he still felt like an outsider.

  Maybe just the few conversations I had with Obi and the few words I exchanged with Jasmine and Roselilly simply aren’t enough.

  He once more regretted not having any real friends, save for Jasmine back home. Jasmine who had brutally betrayed him. It was a bitter thought. One which might push a man into a path of solitude, but then he recalled Dandelion and Everlast and even Puresnow.

  It took some time, a slight show of power, but they became friends. Maybe that’s all his new team needed? Time. Or a show of power?