13th of Season of Water, 57th year of the 32nd cycle

  Newt and his teammates were checking available missions at the Chamber of Instruction. Outer disciples and laborers had a considerably more diverse spectrum of missions, ranging from ones as basic as cleaning to those requiring advanced skills assisting master artisans.

  Inner disciples had monotonous, militant jobs. Harvesting resources in dangerous areas controlled by the sect, helping their vassals or subordinate forces handle spirit beast infestations, and finally, the one that attracted Newt the most, harvesting resources from the Savage Wood.

  There were dozens of them, but a specific mission caught Newt’s eye - gathering eldenroot at the Raptor Mountain. When he saw it, Newt grinned. Thanks to his now existing knowledge of geography, he knew that the airship heading for the Raptor Mountain would pass close to the Blazing Salamander clan’s clanhold, and the mountain itself was relatively close. He could take the opportunity to visit his elders, and more importantly, he could visit Magmin’s realm. While his cultivation had barely grown a layer, Newt’s combat ability exploded to a whole new level.

  He had refined his techniques, gained some danger sense proficiency, learned enough about spell formations to feel confident about using them in life and death combat, and his physical prowess equaled that of fourth realm combatants. Third realm Magmin stood no chance.

  “Why are you smiling? Did you see something interesting?” Roselilly asked. Over the course of the moons since the mission, the woman became like Newt’s protective big sister. It was a strange feeling. From an only child, he had grown to have a lot of siblings.

  Newt’s smile grew warmer at the thought.

  “Yeah. The Raptor Mountain mission, the mission itself seems annoying, but I could visit my family if we go there.” Newt paused. “You guys are welcome to visit. The place has nothing compared to Explorer’s Gate, but it’s home, and my clan will treat you right.”

  The other three exchanged glances before nodding.

  “We can take that one.” Roselilly smiled, and Newt inclined his head in gratitude.

  “It says the airship is departing the day after tomorrow, and it’s scheduled to return a moon later. We will miss the New Year festival, but that’s fine, it’s mostly for the outer disciples and laborers anyway. How far is your clan from the Raptor Mountain?”

  Newt closed his eyes, calling to mind the regional map of Savage Wood near his home. “Around two and a half days of running, three if we take it easy, two if we push ourselves.” Newt realized his request was rude, so he hurried to add, “I’ll buy stamina recovery and minor healing pills for everyone. That way, we won’t even notice the run.”

  That was a lie. The run would still waste four to six days of everyone’s time, time they could have spent hunting for spirit beasts in the somewhat deeper parts of the Savage Wood, but Newt would make it up to his team some other way.

  Obi and Roselilly nodded while Jasmine grunted in agreement, warming Newt’s heart. He had to make sure nothing happened to them while they explored the Raptor Mountain. In mere moons they had spent together, the three of them had grown closer than anyone back home. It was funny how he considered them peers of the same generation as himself, when Jasmine and Obi were closer in age to his parents than him.

  Newt led the way to the main desk, where he gave his and his teammates names, as well as their chosen mission. The outer disciple manning the station checked a sheet of paper, before lifting her gaze back up to meet Newt’s.

  “You may take this mission. Your master has left a note that you must return from your mission at least three days before the core disciple trials, and your airship is scheduled to arrive ten whole days before the trials.”

  The news came as a surprise. Newt had no idea his master had planned to promote him to a core disciple so soon after arriving at the sect. He thanked the receptionist and turned around to face his friends.

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  “What are core disciple trials?”

  “For you, they would be combat trials.” Roselilly said. “The three strongest inner disciples get to challenge the three weakest core disciples in one-on-one matches. There are thirty combat oriented core disciples, and the rest reach the status through special skills like forging, healing, beast-taming, and such. You can also become a core disciple by reaching the fourth realm before turning fifty. In that case, the sect grooms you for an elder position, since you’ve already reached the same realm as outer elders.”

  Roselilly continued explaining, and Newt listened. He rarely sparred with others anymore, mostly with Elder Alabaster’s personal disciples, and his fights were with the fourth realmers. Ever since pummeling Goodair and pinning her to the ground, their master said he should avoid fighting third realmers, to avoid holding back and dulling his combat ability.

  Naturally, Newt often lost. His techniques were inferior, despite having a stronger body, his spiritual energy was firmly tied to his realm, and a large step behind his opponents. With his body matching his opponents’, Newt’s advantage was his danger sense, thanks to which he snatched victories whenever he shrank the distance enough to use his glaive.

  ***

  “How is he doing?” the sect leader asked as soon as Alabaster caught sight of him. The man was sitting on the porch of his humble home, his eyes closed one moment, open the next without bothering to go through the motions, or possibly moving so fast that she failed to perceive it.

  “Remarkably well, given that he has free rein of his education outside my and Flameax’s lessons. He inquired about what it would take to find someone skilled to instruct him in the way of the spear and the glaive the other day. He also asked about the prices of different grades of teachers, which is funny. Apparently, he wants to use the Chamber of Instruction to issue a mission for our skilled weapon-users.”

  An amused smirk danced at the corners of the sect master’s lips. Alabaster suppressed a similar reaction when Newt asked about weapon masters.

  “It’s good that he doesn’t want to owe us more and that he doesn’t take our or the sect’s help for granted. Go through the appropriate channels, I’m certain an outer elder or two are very skilled with the spear. Tell them their student is a shoo-in for the next core disciple selection.” Sect master paused. “Never mind, by the time he receives his first lesson, he’ll already be a core disciple, and instructors will throw themselves at him.”

  The statement confused Alabaster, but she waited patiently for an explanation, which the sect leader provided a few moments later.

  “He just selected a mission in the Savage Wood, a moderately lengthy one, near his hometown.” The man frowned. “Strange, he didn’t seem like a sentimental type to me. Especially given his history.”

  “He received a letter from his mother some time ago. It could be because of that?” Alabaster offered, simultaneously checking whether the sect master had respected her disciple’s privacy.

  “Perhaps.” He shrugged, revealing nothing before changing the subject. “The region is extremely tame, but I would like Elder Flameax to accompany the mission along with the standard team of guardians. I might be imagining it, but Newstar certainly attracts trouble and tribulation, and Savage Forest is outside my direct sphere of influence.”

  Alabaster hesitated, but voiced her thoughts. “Protecting and pampering disciples spoils them. You may save their lives, but they will kill themselves eventually, wasting more resources in the process.”

  Sect Master Greenthorn nodded, not showing a hint of impatience or reproach. “I’m not saying we keep him sheltered. What challenges come his way, he and his team will have to face without aid. Elder Flameax will stay far away, deeper into the Savage Wood, suppressing his aura, ready for the inevitable moment when a fifth or sixth realm spirit beast decides to leave the depths and take a stroll in the outer region just because Newstar is there and needs a new tribulation.”

  The man looked into the jungle, towards the Savage Wood, as if seeing it. For all Alabaster knew, he might have actually observed it.

  “But that’s less important right now. You need to prepare your disciple for the Sage’s Realm tournament. We have three more years, well, two with the New Year upon us. I will open three ancestral secret realms to our core disciples as a means of testing their ability and as a reward for the ones working the hardest. The three third and fourth realm disciples who perform the best will go to the Sage’s Realm tournament.

  “The second realm disciples will need to follow a more standard testing method, since the secret realms I have in mind are too high realm for them.”

  Alabaster wondered which secret realms the sect leader had in mind. The Explorer’s Gate controlled around two dozen, almost all of them too high level for second realm disciples.

  “The Tower of Suffering, the Soul Waterfall, and the Wander’s Forest,” the sect master answered, and Alabaster wondered, not for the first time, whether the man could in fact read her thoughts.