The sun was only beginning to clear the eastern ridges when Li Wei arrived at the Mission Hall. Already, a knot of disciples had formed around the jade boards, their voices carrying sharp edges of excitement. The golden letters marking the caravan escort mission had not dimmed overnight. Instead, their glow pulsed like a lure, drawing all who saw it closer.
"Joint missions… always bloody," one voice muttered."Bloody, but rewarding," another snapped back.
Li Wei stood apart from the crowd, eyes steady on the mission notice. A hundred and eighty contribution points. Enough to push him forward without bleeding his stipend dry. Enough to give him a foothold on the path to Foundation Establishment.
Mei Yun arrived beside him, her steps light, expression unreadable. "You've decided?"
Li Wei nodded. "This mission is worth the risk."
Before she could reply, Liang Fei's voice boomed over the crowd. "Brother sword! Just the man I was hoping to find." He pushed through, grinning wide, his fists wrapped in fresh linen. "I saw the notice yesterday. Tell me you're not planning to slip away without me."
Li Wei allowed himself the faintest smile. "Then it seems we walk together once more."
"Good!" Liang Fei thumped his chest. "A caravan means more fists to swing, more enemies to break. What's cultivation without a few cracked bones?"
Mei Yun only sighed faintly, though her lips curved with a trace of amusement.
They approached the attendants' desk as a group. The roster of names already stretched long, each slot filled with desperate hands. At last, three more disciples signed their tokens beside theirs, rounding their party to the required six.
Han Lin was first: tall, broad-shouldered, a spear strapped across his back. His expression was calm, almost serene, but his movements carried the grounded weight of someone who trusted in steel and discipline.
Zhou Ling followed: a sharp-eyed youth with quick hands and a quicker tongue. His robes were patched, his token faintly scuffed, but the hungry light in his gaze burned as bright as any.
Last was Meng Yao. She moved like a shadow even in daylight, her voice quiet when she spoke her name. Slender blades rested at her waist, her eyes cool, measuring.
Li Wei bowed lightly to each of them. "If we travel together, then let us do so with trust."
Han inclined his head in return. "Agreed."Zhou Ling smirked. "Trust is earned on the road."Meng Yao said nothing, but her silence was its own promise.
---
By noon, they stood at the southern gate of Heavenly Dragon Sect, where the mountain path spilled outward into the wilds. Waiting for them was the caravan: a train of six wagons bound in steel plating, their wooden frames etched with protective inscriptions. Spirit beasts strained in their harnesses — oxen with eyes like molten gold and hides tough as iron.
The merchants were already bustling, their leader a stout man with a braided beard and a wary glance that measured every disciple in turn. "Sect sends us guards this time," he muttered. "Good. The last road took three wagons before we reached the city."
Li Wei's brow furrowed faintly, but he held his tongue. The risk was already plain.
As the caravan rumbled to life, their group took positions: Liang Fei near the front, spear-wielding Han Lin pacing beside him; Zhou Ling and Meng Yao drifted toward the wagons' flanks; Li Wei and Mei Yun walked near the rear, eyes sweeping the ridgelines.
The path bent quickly into valleys and forests. Beyond the sect's gates, the world unfolded raw and unshaped: cliffs stabbing into the sky, rivers cutting silver lines through stone, ruins scattered like the bones of forgotten giants. The Northern Continent was no gentle cradle.
Mei Yun's gaze lingered on the wilderness. "No wonder the sect pushes us into these missions. Only by walking here do you see what lies beyond the walls."
Li Wei nodded. "And only by bleeding here do we learn to survive."
---
The first day passed without incident, though tension wove through every mile. Disciples kept their hands close to weapons, merchants whispered nervously, and the forest's silence seemed almost too complete.
It broke on the second morning.
The screech of a beast split the air as shadows burst from the underbrush. Wolves — but larger than any common breed, their hides glimmering faintly with metallic sheen. Ironhide Wolves, their fangs like daggers of steel.
"Form up!" Han Lin roared, spear flashing into his grip.
Li Wei's sword left its sheath in a clean arc, qi flaring along the blade. Beside him, Mei Yun's palms traced faint sigils, ribbons of icy light snapping into being.
The wolves lunged in a tide. Liang Fei met them head-on, his fists crashing against jaws and skulls with wild laughter. Han Lin's spear thrust in disciplined rhythm, every strike piercing clean through hide. Zhou Ling darted in and out of the chaos, his dagger flashing quick as a snake's fang. Meng Yao's blades whispered through throats, her movements silent, efficient.
Li Wei's sword carved bright lines through the fray, qi surging sharper with each breath. A wolf leapt high toward one of the wagons — his blade cut it down midair, steel ringing as blood sprayed across the dirt.
The battle raged for minutes, but discipline and power held. When the last wolf fell, the road was slick with crimson, the wagons untouched.
The merchants cheered shakily. Liang Fei wiped blood from his knuckles and laughed. "Now that is the sort of greeting I like!"
Han Lin simply planted his spear in the earth, breathing slow. "Too many for a stray pack. Something drives them."
Li Wei cleaned his blade, eyes narrowing at the treeline. The forest pressed silent once more, but the stillness felt watchful. "Then we should not linger."
By dusk of the third day, the caravan reached a narrow pass where cliffs loomed high on both sides. The merchants urged their beasts faster, sweat beading on their brows. Even the disciples felt it — the weight of danger pressing close.
The ambush came swift and precise.
Figures erupted from the cliffs above, ropes snapping taut as bandits swung down with blades flashing. More surged from the rocks ahead, their leader clad in dark leather, scars twisting across his face.
"Leave the wagons and live!" his voice thundered.
Liang Fei's answer was a roar, fists already shattering the first bandit's jaw.
Han Lin's spear whirled in deadly arcs, holding the front. Zhou Ling ducked under a strike, his dagger plunging upward into a throat. Meng Yao vanished into shadow, reappearing behind a bandit with her blade already sliding between ribs.
Mei Yun unleashed a wave of frost that froze ropes mid-swing, sending would-be attackers crashing to the ground.
Li Wei moved like a storm, his sword singing as it cut through bandits with calm precision.
The leader charged, a heavy saber crashing toward Li Wei's guard. Sparks flared as steel met steel. Their blades clashed in a storm of blows, each strike heavier than the last.
With a final surge, Li Wei's sword blazed with qi and cut across the man's chest. The bandit staggered, roaring — then collapsed, blood spraying the stones.
The rest broke soon after, scattering into the cliffs. The road was littered with bodies, the wagons unscathed.
The merchants wept with relief, bowing low to the disciples. "You've saved us. Every coin, every life—"
Li Wei only sheathed his sword, his breath steady though his qi still burned fierce. This mission was reward enough.
---
When they returned to Heavenly Dragon Sect days later, the gates seemed to rise higher than ever, carved jaws swallowing them whole. The Mission Hall received their tokens, and light flared across the wooden slates.
+180 contribution.
For most, it was a fortune. For Li Wei, it was momentum.
As they parted ways in the courtyard, Liang Fei clapped his shoulder. "Next time, brother sword, you'd better leave a few for me to finish."
Mei Yun only shook her head softly, though her gaze lingered on Li Wei with quiet certainty.
He felt it too — the road was steep, but he was climbing faster than most. And with each mission, each battle, the mountain's peak drew closer.