Dao of the World Walker (Xianxia) Book 2

Yang just bowed to Senior Brother Fan Xiao and Qing An and flew his carpet away, looking down to find a safe place to land.

Once he had gained some distance, he glanced back and saw that both Senior Brother Fan Xiao and Qing An had disappeared. He let out a long sigh and pressed forward, making sure to fly hidden within the layer of clouds, occasionally bursting out in the open skies.

Without his Senior Brother’s spiritual senses to rely on, Yang had to depend entirely on his sight to survey the ground; therefore, flying only above or within the clouds wasn’t an option if he intended to get a proper sense of the terrain.

In the distance, a mountain caught his attention. He could see several people climbing it on foot, not using any flying swords or tools.

Now there were two possibilities: either they were all qi condensation realm cultivators and, in that case, couldn’t fly, or there was a restriction on the mountain preventing an aerial approach.

He leaned towards the latter option.

As he drew closer, he saw that the mountain was cleanly split in two in the middle as if a giant sword had smoothly sliced the mountain in a single stroke. He circled around and descended, hovering a few meters above the ground, testing how much closer he could get. The other cultivators did notice him but chose to ignore him. 

He must have pushed too close, as suddenly the carpet dipped. He immediately pulled back as he spat out a mouthful of blood.

This was familiar. 

Yang now knew why these cultivators were pressing to get as close as possible.

This peak was saturated with Sword Intent. No wonder Yang had almost coughed his lungs out. He had already experienced a minor taste of it in the Azure Sword Sect’s entrance trial, but the sword intent here felt far more intense and sharp.

It was hardly surprising that the other cultivators had ignored him. They were too busy refining their own swords to give any attention to some fool who thought to fly too close to a place like this.

He soared higher and retreated, putting distance between himself and the mountain. This was clearly not the place for him. 

He flew on, occasionally spotting a cultivator or two. Most were travelling alone or in small groups, but he did come across the occasional larger groups with five or more members.

He made sure to keep himself hidden, especially when near larger groups. Thankfully, most of them seemed to be walking, understandable if one’s aim was to find treasures. It’s unlikely to be found in the sky.

As he drew farther, he realised many of the cultivators seemed to be making their way towards a specific direction. He sped up, hoping to get a chance before a large crowd gathered there.

As he neared, he saw a massive red lake.

It was not a lake with red tinted water but rather, a whole lake that seemed to be filled with blood. Yang could see dozens of cultivators sitting in the blood lake cultivating. Yang wanted to go down and investigate what was so special about the gruesome lake apart from the obvious, but he refrained. He could feel their power; these cultivators were all at Foundation Establishment and had likely flown here ahead of the Qi Condensation cultivators who were still making their way on foot. 

Yang regretfully flew higher and veered away, unwilling to court needless trouble. 

I must really learn some fighting and escape techniques. He thought grimly. I don’t want to end up founding the Dao of Cowardice, which, if this kept going on, was going to become a very real possibility.

After a few hours of flying, he saw the edge of a vast forest come into view on his right. Leaving him to wonder if that was where Senior Brothers Zhen Hao, Yuan Shen and Song Weilong were hunting Golden Core beasts. He changed direction and flew to the edge and for a moment considered whether he should try to find them before dismissing the thought.

If Senior Brother Fan Xiao had wanted him with others, he would have said so. It was clear he intended to leave Yang alone to gain some experience, and Yang would hate to disappoint. Though he still disembarked near the edge, noticing no one around.

His Senior Brothers were in the Golden Core realm and above; they would have gone deeper, but Yang could stay near the edges and see what he might find.

As Yang walked along the tree line, he felt a wave of nostalgia wash over him. He let out a faint smile as he thought of the years and life he had spent in another similar forest. It had been a lonely and difficult time, yet a simple one. At the time he was living it, it had been hell, but now with enough distance, he was able to think back on it with an almost bittersweet fondness.

He kept the carpet out and nearby in case he needed to escape quickly and retrieved his two needles, making sure to keep them held tight between his knuckles, ready to be launched at a moment’s notice. On his other hand, he produced a bunch of talismans. 

At least the time he spent on talisman crafting had been paying off. He had an almost unending supply of them, though he needed to quickly increase his cultivation realms so he could start crafting more advanced talismans. He also took out the mole puppet, connecting it with his spiritual sense and letting it go underground a few meters ahead of him. 

Hours passed as Yang walked, only once taking a small break to have some food and water, perched on a thick tree branch, considering if he should try going in deeper or just abandon the forest and explore somewhere else, when he jerked to a stop as he felt the mole puppet lurching back from something underground.

It felt like a snake or a vine, reaching for the mole, similar to the roots that seemed to be interspersed throughout the forest floor, but this one was actively moving around trying to ensnare his mole puppet. 

Yang, unwilling to lose it, immediately called it back, guiding it to dodge and making turns and twists to dig itself out of the ground. It took a few tense minutes before the mole finally broke free of the ground, with Yang catching it in his hand as he hurriedly stowed it back in his storage ring.

He took a few steps back and looked into the hole where the mole had jumped out of and saw a worm—no, it looked like a root poke itself out. It moved fluidly like a snake and seemed to be looking at Yang curiously.

Yang summoned the carpet closer, almost pressing against his back, ready to flee within a moment if that thing decided to lunge at him. Yang felt like pinching himself to check if he was hallucinating once he saw it actually tilting its head at him curiously.

The bead was recovered back to its previous condition, Yang reminded himself. So if it was mortally dangerous, he would have been warned by now. 

He took a tentative step closer, and then another. 

It shot off at him, wrapping itself around his arms, torso, and legs and constricting until he was down on the ground and unable to move anything apart from his mouth.

He realized it was neither a vine nor a root. It was actually some kind of rope. He let out a wince as he hurriedly summoned the needles and talismans back in his storage ring, not willing to take the risk of revealing any of his trump cards before it was time to strike.

He lay on the ground waiting to see who or what would come forward. 

He didn’t have to wait long, as he was soon surrounded by four Foundation Establishment cultivators, two men and two women, all wearing pristine white robes with golden inner robes. They looked rather wealthy from what he could see of their swords and tools.

Why attack me? Yang thought bitterly. Compared to them, I was a pauper.

He looked into the eyes of the one closest to him. The female cultivator bent down and looked at him with cold indifference. “Junior, don’t blame us. Blame your luck.”

Yang couldn’t help but agree as he cursed every deity that existed from this world to Earth.

Join my Patreon to read 10 advance chapters.