Chapter 31: East Tradehaven

  Within a small dorm room in building G-6 of the Verdant Sigil Arcane Academy, only the chirping of birds and the occasional indistinct babble of conversations as apprentices passed nearby could be heard. The earthy smell of the worn-out furniture of the room intermingled with the fresh afternoon breeze drifting in through the open window, blowing the sheer curtains in a steady rhythm. The small wooden bed and mattress were bathed in the golden light of the setting sun, its warm and vibrant beams scattering through the room as they made contact with the drifting motes of dust.

  Atop this bed sat a figure. His long hair billowed as the warm wind enveloped his body in a gentle embrace. The figure was sitting completely still, as though frozen in time. His complicated gaze lingered on an embroidered storage pouch in his lap, his face distorted with a mix of astonishment, disbelief and embarrassment. This harmonious and peaceful scene was maintained for a long time before it was broken when the figure’s lips finally moved.

  “I… I can’t believe it… I Got scammed again…”

  The talking figure was Damon. He had just finished examining the contents of the storage pouch he had received from Cado. All that was contained within were some sheets of parchment and small notebooks containing flowery poetry. There were no cultivation resources, no intricate and powerful artifacts, no mysterious and ancient scrolls or books, and not even a single first-tier essence stone.

  Damon thought back on the agreement made before the duel. Cado had just stated he would hand over his storage pouch. He had not specified whether he had more than a single storage pouch. Even Damon owned numerous storage pouches; of course, a privileged son of an Adept would too! He had practically wasted his entire day; unable to ascertain the value of merit points, as was his goal when he had ventured over to the Trade Hall, and even risked exacerbating the injury to his Arcane Node during the duel with Cado, for a storage pouch containing poetry.

  “Heh…” Damon chuckled. He had been fooled. He had been toyed with.

  I see. This world of cultivation… It’s not just about strength and knowledge… It’s intimately related to the art of scamming… Tidus, and now Cado… I still have much to learn.

  Damon continued to chuckle for a while before shaking his head. Fortunately, he had not lost anything from dueling with Cado. In fact, he had learned the method of increasing his attacks’ penetrative power, so it was beneficial to him. He had also learned a new way of scamming others, though it was unclear if he would be able to make use of it in the future.

  Damon felt a tug at one of his own storage pouches and took out his communication orb. It was flashing with the symbol of an overflowing tankard. His eyes began to glow at the sight, as a smile formed on his face. He had left Igor a message earlier, and he had responded just now.

  “Damon! I can’t believe it took you this long to get yourself a communication orb. If I knew it’d be like this, I would have bought you one before we parted! Anyway, it’s good that you contacted me today. I have a new mission in three days, so tomorrow will be the best time to meet up. You said you wanted to have a look around the Pavilion and browse their wares, correct? How about we meet up in the morning at the East Port, where you got on the small passenger boat that took you to the west?”

  A loud booming voice rang out in Damon’s head the moment he channeled his power into the orb. Even after the message had finished, he could hear Igor’s voice bouncing around in his skull.

  “Agh, why is he yelling into the communication orb? Though that is very typical of him.”

  Damon picked at both of his ears; the irritation and itchiness caused by the echoing words finally being cleared away. Afterward, he spoke back into the orb to respond to Igor.

  As Damon finished sending his message and was about to deposit the orb back into his storage pouch, it began flashing again. Initially, he expected to see the mark of the overflowing tankard, but instead, it was glowing with a different symbol. It was a symbol that looked similar to a vortex or a tornado. As he did not want to even check this message right now, he ignored it and placed the orb away. Not long after, he felt a steady and continuous stream of tugging in his chest pocket where the pouch was kept.

  “Gosh, what did I get myself into? Though it made a bit of sense when Dylan had told me about her background. She probably doesn’t have any other friends. I guess I can respond to her tomorrow when I get back from East Tradehaven.”

  Damon gave a first-tier essence stone to the ferryman who had brought him to the East Port, and then stepped off the small boat onto the wooden stairs leading up. The major docks were made out of stone, but they were only accessible to the organizations belonging to the Assembly or other large powers nearby. The rest of the smaller trade vessels and passenger boats required you to disembark at the shoddy wooden docks at the sides.

  Damon breathed in the musty air, filled with the overwhelming stench of rotting fish or other marine life. He climbed the damp wooden steps covered in slime, each step causing the planks to creak with an unsettling whine, as though they would fall apart with the slightest more force. He looked around and could see miscellaneous items floating around on the water near the pilings holding up the docks. He shook his head and clicked his tongue at the sight. It was completely different from the clean and well-maintained West Port.

  All this contamination and trash floating around here must be the doing of mortals. It appears that the shorter your life, the less inclined you are towards maintaining a good environment for the future. These sorts of run-down docks don’t even exist on the West Port, where the only patrons are fellow cultivators. They would detest leaving it so poorly maintained.

  Damon made it to the top of the stairs, where he was greeted by the sight of what looked to be slums. He had not seen these areas the first time he was here, as Igor had organized the boat to take him directly from the stone pier they had docked at. It was a disgusting sight. Everywhere he looked, it was filled with decrepit shacks filled with holes, rubbish littered the ground, and old men and women were lying in the corners covered in so much grime their original skin tone could not be seen.

  Damon didn’t want to linger and quickly walked towards the stone port in the distance. The filth even seemed to pollute the atmospheric essence in the surrounding area, causing his nodes to feel impure. He understood how such a thing came to be, as he had learned a lot about society and the operations of the world from his readings. However, he was not accustomed to seeing it himself, and a part of him wanted to avoid such things in the future. The smell lingering in the area was especially bad: a mixture of alcohol, rotting marine life, and human excrement.

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  As Damon walked through the slum docks, he kept his focus on a small figure scurrying behind him. This figure had been observing him since the passenger boat had arrived at the docks. After the warning from Tidus, he had been forced to adapt. He no longer projected his mental power outward in a powerful rush, it now expanded like a thin, invisible mist. It sacrificed detail for stealth; he could no longer make out their faces, but instead he saw them as glowing figures.

  Damon soon neared the area where the stone met the decaying wood when the small and gaunt figure ran out from behind a crate and prostrated itself in front of him.

  “Please, sir, please help me! My younger sister… She is dying of hunger. Our parents abandoned us a year ago, and I have been feeding her whatever I can find but she stopped waking up three days ago! I try to give her water, but it just falls out of her mouth! Please, save her life!”

  Damon looked down at the figure. They were emaciated to the point their bones were clearly visible, and were covered in so much filth that he could not even ascertain whether they were a boy or a girl.

  “You there. Where is your sister? I’ll be waiting over there, so bring her there, and I’ll take a look.” Damon replied while pointing at the stone docks in the distance.

  “Sir, please, I can’t carry her by myself! I’m supposed to be the older brother but I am so weak I can’t even lift her… Please, help me…” The boy started crying pitiably as he remained prostrated.

  “Okay, fine. Lead the way. I will have a look.” Damon responded flatly with a sigh.

  The boy immediately jumped up and ran down a nearby alleyway. Damon trailed behind at an unhurried pace, as though he were in no rush. After weaving through several different turns, they arrived at a small clearing surrounded by shacks, but otherwise a dead end. The boy ran right to the end of the clearing and entered through the open doors of a shack.

  Damon continued walking until he reached the center of the clearing, where he came to a sudden halt.

  “Hah… I gave him a chance to reconsider, but he ended up bringing me here regardless.” Damon sighed.

  Damon was not entirely certain if the boy had been genuine at the start, but he realized it was a ploy as they zigzagged their way through the alleyways. It was confirmed soon enough by his Mindsense. He didn’t need his eyes to see the silhouettes radiating light hiding behind the walls of the surrounding shacks.

  “You can come out now. I’m already in your trap, so there’s no need to hide anymore, is there?” Damon shouted.

  There was only silence for a moment before the doors of every shack opened up and a crowd of men trickled out. There were 15 of them, holding pieces of wood as makeshift clubs. One man held an actual weapon, a small axe. He stood at the forefront, directly opposite to Damon.

  “Hahahaha! You figured it out in the end, did you? You seem pretty young. Are you some merchant's son that got lost while out for a stroll? Well, we can guide you back, as long as you give us all your belongings!” The man holding the axe guffawed. He viewed Damon as a prolific and naive son of a rich man. He was clean from head to toe and was wearing plain robes. These kinds made the easiest targets, whose backing was not powerful or influential enough to alert the authorities due to a mere robbery.

  Damon watched the spittle fly out from between the man’s black, rotting teeth. He was tired of these events. It seemed that human greed existed no matter where he went. He wasted no time on words and withdrew 20 arrows and threw them up in the air. They stopped mid-air and turned to face a single person each, as they homed in on their heads.

  “A cultivator! The little shit brought us a cultivator! Run!” The band of rogues immediately dropped everything and turned to run. However, it was a little too late.

  The men all screamed and fell one by one as the arrows struck true. The synchronized thuds of the bodies sounded out, and Damon could sense the life seep out of the men with his Mindsense. Their glowing bodies turned dark, becoming no different from the pieces of trash scattered on the ground. Soon, all that remained was Damon standing in the middle of scattered piles of corpses.

  Damon stepped over the bodies lying on the ground and approached the house at the end of the clearing. He entered through the door and looked straight to the left, where a closet could be seen shaking slightly, the uneven floor causing the legs of the closet to make tapping sounds as it moved from side to side. Some liquid could be seen leaking out from the bottom of the doors, creating a small puddle beneath it.

  Damon withdrew a box from his storage pouch and placed it on a desk near the entrance. He turned around and walked to the main door, pausing right before he left.

  “Kid, I know you were just following orders to survive. It must be difficult to survive in an environment like this. I will let you off just this once because you remind me of myself when I was a child. Make sure you properly scout out your targets in the future. Good luck. I hope you manage to survive and live a good life when you get strong enough.”

  Damon walked out and disappeared down the alleyway he had come from.

  Back in the house, the closet door slowly creaked open, and the boy crawled out, his dirty face covered in white trails caused by his tears and snot. His body was drenched in sweat and his own urine, but he did not even notice as he had already smelled terrible. He hesitatingly walked over to the desk and opened the box, seeing it filled to the brim with various non-perishable foods.

  The boy immediately grabbed pieces of dried meat and shoved them into his mouth, swallowing them without even properly chewing. Although the meat caused his mouth and throat to become dry and raw, he kept shoveling it down until he no longer felt hungry for the first time in his life.

  After filling his stomach, the boy closed the box and carried it to a corner and covered it in dirty rags to hide it from others. He then walked out of the house, not even reacting to all the corpses lying around. He did not even seem slightly surprised by the feat Damon had accomplished. He neither screamed nor ran away; he instead walked over to the fallen axe, picked it up, and started hacking away at the body of the man who had been holding it before. The body quickly became mangled as blood splattered everywhere, covering the boy from head to toe. He stopped after venting his hate, breathing heavily from the effort.

  “That’s one.” The boy whispered through gritted teeth.

  The boy’s eyes, glowing with rage, slowly calmed down and became vacant as he turned around and walked back into his house, still holding the axe.

  Damon walked up the stone steps leading out of the slums. He withdrew a waterskin and poured it over his hands as he did so, even though they were just as clean and pristine white as always.

  “Damon! Hey, where were you? I thought you’d be here half an hour ago!” The signature loud, booming voice of Igor rang out from a distance.

  Damon smiled upon seeing him and hurried his pace to reach him faster.

  “Brother Igor, sorry to keep you waiting. A few rats tried to bite me, so I had to go teach them a lesson.”

  Igor looked Damon up and down, not even seeing a hair out of place. However, a closer inspection revealed some splatters of blood near the bottom of his robes.

  “A few rats, you say? You must have gotten off at the slum docks. They’re filled to the brim with that kind of mortal scum. Next time, you should just come directly to the main wharf and present your Academy token if they ask.”

  Damon became dumbfounded at Igor’s words. Of course! It made so much sense. Why did that not cross my mind?

  “Brother Igor, let’s just hurry along to the Pavilion!”

  “Hahahahaha! Okay, let’s go! We need to finish up quickly and go to a tavern, after all!”