Mage's Cultivation Journey 13

Evening wasn’t too far away when we arrived at the outskirts of Dongxi. The sun had long begun its lazy descent toward the horizon, coloring the tall stone walls of the town with a distinct amber color. 

The town was larger than I had expected. Even with the descriptions from the kid, I expected more of an outpost than a proper town, colored by the poor state of the village. It seemed that I had underestimated just how poor the village itself was. 

The area wrapped by the walls was large enough to comfortably hold a hundred thousand residents, yet the numerous camps surrounded the town, often near the carts that no doubt belonged to the caravans that traveled between two regions. A brief count was enough to show twenty caravans camping around the town, each surrounded by a crowd of guards and workers, raising the total population even more. 

I also registered other differences. There were no flying carts, no flying castles, or anything that wouldn’t have been found in an ordinary town back home. With martial arts-related abilities common, I would have expected bigger differences. 

Maybe it was just cultural, I decided. Or maybe, there was a good reason for it. It was difficult to assess from just a glimpse. 

“I imagined this place less crowded,” I commented. 

“It usually is,” Yu Xing answered. “I never seen more than two or three caravans at once outside the town. There must be a reason. Maybe they have an auction going on?” 

“Maybe,” I said. It sounded like a good reason. But, as I got closer, and got a glimpse of the nearest carts, with several workers fixing broken wheels and other obvious damages, surrounded by limping guards, I started to wonder if it was the case.

Especially once we got closer to other carts, and saw similar problems. 

I decided to pay more attention to the caravans. They were large and well-defended, but even among the guards, the number of martial artists was limited to high-ranking ones, usually one in ten. 

“There’s something wrong,” the kid said. 

“I agree. So, until we decide otherwise, I’m your uncle from the village, helping you to travel. We have to keep an even lower profile than we first planned.” 

“But, that’s … inappropriate,” he said, hesitant. But, he didn’t start calling me a lord again, so I counted it as a win. 

“Not something I care for. Survival is the most important thing, and until we can understand what’s going on, keeping a low profile is the best idea.” 

We kept on the main road, getting closer to the gates. The closer I got, the more details I could see, like the surprisingly detailed craftsmanship of the outer walls, built from perfectly cut stone blocks, occupied by patrolling armored guards, carrying huge spears, twice as tall as them, followed by crossbowmen. 

However, as we got closer, I noticed another thing, which we missed at first glance because it was shadowed by the walls. A huge gathering of people at the western side, looking ragged enough to shout refugees. Some tried to enter the town, only to be rebuffed repeatedly, sometimes violently.

Worse, the refugees looked too ragged to have been eaten anytime soon.  

I was getting a better idea of the kind of place it was. Dongxi looked like a well-run, rich town, but it was not a place run by compassionate people. And, while I wasn’t exactly a person sacrificing myself for charity, I had my limits. 

“It looks like entering the town is not an option,” I said. “At least, not without a sizable bribe.” It also explained why the caravans were waiting outside rather than entering the town. 

“What are we going to do?” he asked. 

“First, let’s learn what’s going on,” I asked, looking for a good place to mix in. “We can decide once we decide.”  

“Should we try talking the guards?” he asked. 

“No,” I said. They looked too tense for a casual conversation. Instead, we moved nearer to the refugee camp, knowing that, even in a different plane, human nature would stay the same. With so many needy people, others would move in, trying to take advantage. 

We came across our target place soon enough. A small set of tents, each with two armored city guards awaiting, manned by merchants, both buying and selling. And, from the prices they were shouting, they were doing so with enough margin to be qualified as stealing. 

“L-low-grade grain, half a tael for a bag,” the kid stammered in shock when he heard the price. “That’s almost five times the usual price.” 

I shrugged. “That’s to be expected,” I said. “Give me the herbs, we’ll try to sell them,” I said. He looked at my back, where I carried the more expensive ones. I shook my head subtly. It was not the place to show the more expensive stuff. 

We lined up to one of the shorter lines, where two servants were measuring and assessing piles of herbs brought by the villagers. After my trek, I was able to recognize all of them at a glance, and their purchase prices confirmed what I was fearing. 

The merchants were significantly undercutting the prices while buying as well, ranging from one-third to one-fifth. I corrected. It was better than robbery, because victims had to beg to be robbed. 

The kid looked at the refugees with a pitying gaze, and I prepared myself to talk him out of trying to help them. Not because I didn’t pity them, but under the circumstances, we had no resources to make a difference. To my surprise, he nodded stoically after observing them, handling it even better than me. 

I sighed. His attitude felt poignant. Such awareness shouldn’t belong to a sixteen-year-old kid, but the world was a merciless place. 

Without anything to do, we waited in line, while I focused on listening to the talks around me, illuminating the situation. 

Apparently, there had been some kind of great landslide near the western passage, blocking the passage temporarily. That alone wouldn’t have been enough to trigger a refugee crisis, but with the number of villagers complaining about savage beast attacks, it seemed to trigger a reaction in the wildlife, some of them targeting the villages, massacring the livestock and people alike. 

It seemed like the kind of thing that required government intervention, but I didn’t know about the political structure to understand whether the absence of it was ordinary or exceptional. 

The line moved slowly, which I didn’t complain. It allowed me to learn more about the town. 

Technically, any town was supposed to be under the control of the Empire, exerted both by the mayor and the law enforcement officials assigned by them. However, people’s discussion implied that government officials held no weight. 

Rulers of Dongxi were, for all practical purposes, the Liao Clan. Most of the town guards came from them, including the second in command; a fact that multiple merchants name-dropped whenever one of the villagers seemed reluctant to sell. 

And, when that didn’t seem enough, they added the name of their Patriarch, Liao Shengtai, who was said to be a martial artist of the Connate realm of some renown, known for both his ruthless taxation and martial might.

Maybe the merchants were bluffing somewhat, but even if their control wasn’t as ironclad as they implied, it still represented a behemoth I couldn’t touch. 

However, there were mentions of others. The Iron Mountain was one of them. Their repeated mention led me to guess they were a martial arts school, but I soon realized that wasn’t the case. They were more like a loose alliance of martial artists that made a living through guarding caravans. 

I have to admit, visiting them would be an excellent opportunity. Not only it would be a good place to buy and sell some stuff, but also it would be a good way to observe a group of martial artists in a relatively safe location. 

Too bad we couldn’t just join it, even if we could have entered the town, as there were some mentions of conflict with a new guild, called Azure Blade Union, which seemed to try muscling in Dongxi to take over the caravan businesses. 

They were not the only factions I heard, but the largest ones. Though, among the smaller factions, one other caught my attention, and only because several sellers were wishing they could enter the town to deal with them instead. 

The place was named Red Lantern Medicinal Hall, which was an expensive location, but apparently, they exclusively served martial artists, offering both medical services and materials like essence pills. 

For me, it represented nothing less than a treasure trove, even more appealing than the martial arts guilds. The amount of knowledge I could unearth there…

Not to mention, it was — hopefully — a place I could sell the more valuable plants we had unearthed on our way here. 

But, first, we needed to figure out a way to enter the town.