With the final hill crumbling into dust, Cain let out a slow sigh of disappointment.
The air hung heavy and still, the silence almost mocking. He glanced around the scorched landscape, eyes narrowing.
'Not so lucky after all.'
The mused, the corners of his mouth twitching.
He loathed two things in this world — wasting time and not getting money.
His thoughts drifted to possibilities. If there were no Shardlings here, it meant one of two things — either they had never formed, or someone had beaten him to it.
He scanned the horizon, his gaze settling on a patch of vegetation just a few dozen meters away, creeping at the edge of the heat-scoured earth.
He moved closer, steps careful, eyes sweeping over the underbrush.
There, caught in the coarse tangles of a bush, was a clump of hair — thick and golden, like a lion's mane, coarse and wiry with bits of grit tangled in its strands.
His fingers brushed it, the texture unmistakable.
Cain's eyes sharpened as he knelt down, hands brushing aside the foliage.
The soil was too compacted, unnaturally so.
He dug with quick, precise movements, revealing the hardened layers beneath.
'Beastmen.'
He muttered, the word edged with understanding.
He knew their history — The Days of False Hope, when Beastmen stood beside humanity as allies.
Once proud, once noble, but divided by their own pride and fractured by the gods and immortals who enslaved them.
Humanity had treated them with respect, not as equals, but not as subordinates either.
Now, many had adopted human technology, blending strength with efficiency.
Cain dusted off his hands, the weight of revelation settling in. He wasn't alone out here. Not anymore.
The tracks led northwest, cutting through the scorched landscape like a jagged scar. Cain pulled up his map, eyes tracing the gridlines and blinking markers.
Shardling hotspots dotted the terrain ahead, clustering thickly in that direction. He frowned, fingers tapping against his thigh as he considered his options.
'If I go the opposite way, there might be untouched spots.'
He mused, brow furrowing — shardlings didn't spawn on a set schedule.
It could be three days, it could be three months before another nest appeared. The idea of gambling on that slim chance twisted his gut.
And if someone had already harvested that area? It would be a complete waste of time.
His eyes flicked back to the tracks — clear and deliberate.
'Following them might be the smarter play.'
Even if he couldn't get a prime cut, there was still the chance of a share. Better than coming up empty-handed on blind faith.
Cain exhaled sharply, shaking off the hesitation. He hadn't been outside the Roosevelt Moving Fortress since he was a kid.
He trusted his instincts, knew the maps backward and forward, but relying on luck alone? That was the kind of mistake that got people killed.
He activated the enchantments on his boots, the hum of magicules flowing through the circuits, coiling beneath his soles. His stance shifted, and with a low burst of energy, he launched forward, gliding across the cracked earth.
He held back from going full speed, conserving his energy.
He had two hours of sprinting in him if he played it right. One hour if it came down to a fight.
'I better make sure to be ready, just in case.'
Cain traversed greenery, his boots skimming over uneven terrain and hardy grass.
The air was thick with dew and the distant hum of divine energy.
The castle loomed like a jagged tombstone, its towers fractured and leaning like broken teeth.
Shadows pooled in its hollowed arches, whispering of wars long forgotten and promises unkept.
Cain's gaze lingered on the shattered battlements — ash-choked clinging to the bones of a world that refused to die.
Once, it had hung majestically in the skies, a beacon of the gods might.
Now, it lay broken, a relic of fallen grandeur.
He pulled out the map given by the Bar Keeper, his eyes scanning the holographic overlay.
A small marker blinked over the castle's remains.
[Heavily Scavenged]
[Resource depletion detected. Very low probability of successful retrieval.]
Cain's jaw tightened, but he stepped forward nonetheless. If the Syndicate thought it was worth marking, then it was worth the effort.
The castle wasn't always this way.
He recalled the old stories, snippets of what Arthur had told him — once, it had floated among the clouds, its spires shimmering with celestial light, suspended by divine energy.
Its walls were pure alabaster, glimmering with hues of dawn and dusk.
Now, only dust and shadows remained.
He gave the place a quick tour, moving with purpose.
Half an hour slipped by as he searched, his magicule reserves slowly replenishing from the ambient mana left in the ruins.
He found nothing, just jagged stone and rusted fragments — until his hand brushed against something solid.
He pulled it free from a mound of dust, brushing off the grit.
It was a piece of metal framing, nearly a foot in size and heavier than it looked.
Its surface shimmered with flecks of azure light, lines of fractured energy pulsing faintly beneath its surface.
Cain hefted it, testing its weight. He didn't dare dismiss it.
'If it survived a fall from the heavens, it was worth keeping.'
Cain eyed the scrap of metal in his hand, its weight reassuring but its value uncertain. He wasn't optimistic, but it was better than nothing.
He slipped it into his pack, a mental note already forming to have it examined.
Moving on, he followed the path marked on his map to the next location — a smaller area, barely an acre wide, hidden between jagged rock formations.
He repeated the routin e— scanning, searching, eyes sharp for the slightest hint of shimmer or distortion.
This time, it only took a few minutes. His gaze locked onto something new — traces on the soil, too fresh to be old.
He knelt, fingers brushing against the disturbed dirt. The tracks were faint but deliberate, two distinct sets. Footsteps weren't visible, but the soil pulsed faintly with traces of primal ki.
Unlike Qi, which moved with refinement and grace...
Primal Ki — was raw and untamed, a force wielded by demi-humans, beastmen, and magical beasts.
It wasn't just energy — it was lineage, a current of ancient power flowing from their ancestors.
Some said it descended from the First Phoenix, Dragon, Tortoise, and Tiger, while others believed it dated back to the Primordial Ooze, the first pulse of life.
As the essence of both ki and qi flowed freely to all.
Cain trudged forward, boots crunching against soil as the trail stretched endlessly before him.
His gaze lifted, and there looming in the distance — colossal stone formations, their jagged edges clawing at the sky.
Sunlight bled over their surfaces, casting shadows that stretched like reaching fingers across the vibrant expanse.
He stopped, breath fogging in the crisp air, eyes narrowing as realization dawned.
"Skyscraper Ruins…"