Darkness consumed Sebastian as the wooden doors of the wagon closed. Not a single ray of moonlight could penetrate its walls.

  The squad of manhunters from the Shattered Earth Sect had

  tied him up with enchanted ropes and thrown him into the moving prison

  cell attached to their carriage.

  Sebastian was strong, but these ropes were stronger.

  The futile struggle, and the dark wooden wagon brought

  back bad memories from his first night in this world. He refused to let

  this time end the same way.

  Sebastian sat up, which took some effort to do since his

  hands were tied behind his back. Although he couldn’t see with his eyes,

  his [Mind’s Eye] worked just fine. There was a bench along both sides

  of the wagon, without any padding, of course.

  I can’t believe I let them catch me.

  None of them could hold a candle to me in a fair fight… No. Who am I

  kidding… There’s no such thing as a fair fight. I was alone, and they weren’t.

  He took a breath to reflect and to think about his

  plans for the future. To get there, however, he had to figure out his

  current circumstances first.

  How did they even find me? A whole

  day’s worth of travel took me pretty far, and I took care to avoid any

  and all checkpoints and even people in general. Although there are all kinds of

  Skills, I’ve never heard of anything that can track someone without

  anything to go off of. There shouldn’t be anything connecting me to the

  Shattered Earth Sect.

  The only thing I can think of is the mark on my hand, but I destroyed that. What else is there— The sword! He mentally slapped himself on the forehead. I took the sword from the one who

  seemed like the leader of those noble assholes. If that was this first

  elder’s son, then it stands to reason that his sword has some sort of

  tracking enchantment.

  Damn…

  He flexed and pulled against the ropes, trying to loosen them or break them outright. Nothing seemed to work.

  They’re enchanted. Raw strength

  isn’t gonna work, not at my current level. I’ll need to break the

  enchantments first. Should be as simple as overloading them, like with

  the mark.

  Problem is, the mark was directly on

  my skin. It was easy to push essence into it. These ropes are external

  objects, how am I supposed to overload them with essence?

  After a short brainstorming session, the answer came to him.

  [Shattering Strike]. As a Technique,

  that’s pretty much what it does. It forces my internal essence into the

  target and explodes from within. I can’t actually use the complete Technique while tied up like this,

  but I should be able to draw some inspiration from it.

  With a deep breath to focus, Sebastian pushed his essence

  to circulate with purpose. He moved essence toward the edge of his

  skin, around his wrists, and tried to force it into the rope.

  It didn’t work.

  All he accomplished was to push at the rope before his

  essence dissipated in the air. Realizing his mistake, he tried again.

  This time he honed a thread of intent to maintain control of the essence

  once it left his body. It was weak, and it took a few tries to get it

  right, but it worked. Essence was injected into the rope tried around

  his wrists.

  Under the spiritual sense of his [Mind’s Eye], the rope

  began to light up. Although he couldn’t see through the functions of the

  enchantments on the rope, he could see them strain.

  With a final push, the enchantments shattered.

  His eyes—which he had naturally kept closed to

  focus—opened, and he tore the rope apart. Even though he couldn’t

  actually see with his eyes, he turned his gaze to the front of the

  wagon.

  Three on the carriage in front, one

  behind the wagon. The last one is beyond my range, but based on their

  body language, I’d venture a guess and say he’s farther up ahead.

  I could just run, but now that

  they’ve caught me once, it’s clear that these hunters would just find me

  again. Even without the sword, they’re skilled enough trackers to hunt

  me down. They probably have my scent or whatever.

  They need to die, all of them.

  His stolen sword had been confiscated during his capture

  and while his [Shattering Strike] was powerful, it wasn’t suitable for

  taking on multiple opponents like this.

  Sebastian shrugged. Since they took his weapon, he’d just

  have to make a new one. Luckily, the wagon's walls were also enchanted. Nothing grand, just simple noise-canceling. They probably don't want to listen to their prisoners scream and shout all the way back to their sect. It would allow him to work on a solution without alerting them.

  He broke off a plank from the bench. It was

  long enough to suit his needs. Wrapping his hand in essence, he chipped

  away at the piece of wood to fashion into the rough shape of a sword.

  After a few minutes, he was ready.

  Sebastian wound back his free hand and unleashed a [Shattering Strike] on the front of the wagon.

  CRASH

  Splinters and fragments of broken wood shot out like arrows.

  “What the—“

  “Shit!”

  The warriors of the Shattered Earth Sect shouted in

  shock. One of them was caught by the initial strike, several pieces of

  wood pierced him. He collapsed, as did the two horses.

  Sebastian dashed out, his wooden sword—which was

  protected and empowered by essence and intent—swung with various attacks

  of his [Intergalactic Sword Art].

  Caught off guard, both guards—including the leader—died before they had much time to defend themselves.

  The other two rushed in at the disturbance.

  A [Crescent Cloud Slash] tore through the entire

  wagon—what was left of it, at least—and struck the one behind. It killed

  him instantly.

  In front, the last one realized what happened. He tried

  to run, but Sebastian caught up with [Quickstep] and bypassed the traps

  thrown in a panic with his [Fleeting Cloud Step]. A single thrust

  through the heart killed the last of them.

  He looked down at the wooden sword in his hand, which had finally shattered under the strain of his powers.

  Without their all preparations, they weren’t so difficult to deal with in the end. Hell, I probably could have dealt with them before if I weren't so stubborn in focusing only on my target. I need to do better, need to be better, Sebastian thought before he took off.

  Sebastian kept running, only stopping to

  cultivate for a number of hours each day when he found somewhere

  secluded. As he got farther east, the ground went from slushy, to wet,

  and eventually to fields of dry grass which turned greener with each

  day. His estimation of a month or two was optimistic but still fairly

  accurate.

  By the time he got closer to the Barren Wastelands, spring was in full effect.

  Those months weren’t without issue. There had been a few incidents along the way but nothing quite as bad as the first.

  One thing about the eastern continent that made things

  smoother was the lack of proper borders. The continent was one massive

  piece of land with countless sects, clans, houses, and families spread

  all over. Each one held influence over their surrounding area and

  claimed territories and put up checkpoints to control and monitor people, but none of them truly owned their territories.

  There were countless disputes, and Groups who shared territories, run by

  local governments.

  It meant that Sebastian could avoid getting the attention

  of the Great Martial Alliance simply by avoiding cities, town, and

  checkpoints. As far as travel was concerned, it wasn’t the most

  comfortable, but it was fast. What had taken his unit almost half a year

  took him just over two months.

  He had occasionally kept contact with Marion to keep

  updated on where they had gone and how things were going. They had to

  begin rationing their messages, however. The badges couldn’t be

  recharged with your own energy, they needed energy stones, which they

  didn’t have.

  A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  The Barren Wastelands, as it turned out, weren’t actually completely barren, or a wasteland for that matter.

  There weren’t rolling hills of luscious greenery, but

  there was some greenery to be found most everywhere, to various degrees.

  The landscape was arid. Dry soil and sand of a reddish color. Most of

  the vegetation consisted of bushes and other drought-resistant plants.

  No cacti, though. Overall, it was like something out of strange version

  of the wild west, only colored with contrasting muted reds and greens.

  With Sebastian’s [Fleeting Cloud Step], it was as though

  the dry red sand beneath his feet didn’t even register that someone was

  running across it. Even if he were being followed, there would be no

  footprints to track.

  After traversing the Barren Wastelands for a few weeks,

  during which he could finally rest in actual towns rather than camping

  out, Sebastian followed a small road.

  Like most roads in the eastern continent, it wasn’t paved

  with stone, but it was still better than most dirt roads back on earth.

  The sand was densely packed and slightly raised from the surroundings,

  although the farther into the Barren Wastelands he ventured, the less

  dense it got.

  The road finally led him to a town deep in the wastelands.

  Given the terrain, he almost expected to see an old

  Western style town, but it was still in the same Asian style as most

  everything on the continent, and far larger than anything you’d see in a

  western movie.

  The main road had stalls and stores of people selling

  just about everything you could need. They were doing quite well at

  that; the road was crowded with people. Like most towns in this world,

  it was larger than expected but somehow still gave off the feeling of

  being small.

  He walked along the road, taking in the smell of spices

  and grilled meat. There weren’t many monsters here but with the various

  System Skills of those who lived here, there were plenty of domesticated

  animals and farms.

  The land in the wastelands wasn’t optimal for agriculture

  due to the dry soil—although some farmers had still found success in

  cultivating the land—so most of the food in the Barren Wastelands came

  from animals who could eat a wider assortment of crops. Meat was abundant.

  It didn’t take long to find the courtyard house that his unit had bought.

  The wooden wall was thin but sturdy with a simple

  double-door gate. Towering behind the wall was a two story pagoda house.

  It was nothing like the fancy pagodas of the cities he had seen in the

  distance as he ran across the continent. It was certainly not comparable

  to the grandiose buildings of actual sects either, but it was large

  enough to house a dozen people.

  He didn’t bother knocking. He pushed open the creaky gate and was met by a moment of silence.

  The moment was brief. Once the shock wore off, he was

  excitedly greeted by the last surviving members of his unit, who also happened to be the last survivors of the entire Wandering Wolves Corps.

  Marion walked up and shook his hand.

  “Good to see you again, sir. Glad you made it here safely.”

  “Likewise, you’ve done well—“

  Gawen hurried over and interrupted them. “Teacherman! I

  knew you’d make it.” In the time since Sebastian saw the tall young man

  last, Gawen had built up a great deal more muscle. He still wore his

  armor, even though it stuck out a little in the eastern continent.

  Although it hadn't been too many years since he graduated, he was now a

  veteran warrior.

  Safi walked out of the house due to the commotion. She

  too had grown into a warrior—fighting in the real world was different

  from training in a school, something made apparent by the large scar on her face. Unlike Gawen, though, Safi wore eastern

  clothes, a green robe, tied around her waist with a thick blue band. As

  soon as she laid eyes on Sebastian, she ran out and clasped him in a

  hug. “Uncle! Thank the gods!”

  Sebastian couldn’t help but smile.

  “Yeah, I’m alive.”

  Hours after the sun had set, the

  flickering of the fire was the only source of light in the courtyard.

  The crackling reminded him of more comfortable times.

  The group had hounded Sebastian with questions when he

  first arrived, but Marion put a stop to it. Since Sebastian had spent

  months running almost nonstop, they had let him settle in and take a

  shower before gathering around the fire in the courtyard.

  “So, Boss, what happened?” Marion asked. She had traded

  in her jacket for thick, grey robe in the style of the region, and she

  no longer wore her crop-top but a simple, dark shirt under the robe. “We

  heard there were no survivors. Though, some of us,” she nodded

  toward Safi and Gawen, “wouldn’t let anyone entertain the idea that you

  died, so I made sure to send updates every now and then. But with every

  message that went unanswered, morale sank.”

  “You’re goddamn right we wouldn’t entertain the idea!

  There was no way Teacherman would die, so there was never a need to worry

  about morale.”

  Sebastian chuckled. “I appreciate the vote of confidence,

  but in truth, it was too close for comfort. The Divine Light were led

  by the four 'heroes' of Lumeria, and their general.” His eyes darkened at

  the mere mention of them. He gave a quick recap of what happened after

  he had them retreat, leaving out a few select details regarding his

  connection to the heroes.

  “Damn…” Gawen said somberly. “I saw that magical ray when

  it first struck the second division. You survived a direct hit from

  that?” His voice held an equal measure of surprise and admiration.

  “Barely. Honestly, I was just lucky that they didn’t

  chase me down. I found a place to hide and just stayed there for almost

  half a year to recover.” There was a moment of silence before he chose

  to change the topic. “Well, enough about that. What about you guys?

  Sure, I read the messages but those were quite short, and they don’t

  explain how you got that scar across your face, Safi. Are you alright?”

  “Yeah, I’m good, uncle. Don’t worry, we all looked out for each other,” she said with a pointed smile toward Marion.

  Marion took a breath and leaned forward, the light of the

  fire highlighting the wrinkles on her face. She looked like she had

  aged several years since Sebastian saw her last. “When we reached the

  Shattered Earth Sect’s territory, the Great Martial Alliance hadn’t been

  formalized yet. They weren’t too fond of refugees, turned most everyone

  away at the checkpoint. We sneaked around it, but they had patrols.

  Although outnumbered, we emerged victorious. We continued east, taking

  odd jobs here and there. Including a contract to escort some merchant

  headed to the Eternal Lotus Sect. Along the way, we ran into some

  bandits. They were strong. We lost Kelton and took some injuries.” She

  glanced at Safi. “The rest was relatively uneventful,” Marion explained.

  “I’m sorry I wasn’t there. But I’m glad each of you made

  it,” Sebastian said, his tension gradually fading the longer they

  talked.

  There was a pause, a lull as they took a moment to remember what they all lost.

  After a while, Safi bounced to her feet. “Oh, by the way,

  Uncle! Wait here!” She ran into the house. Sebastian could see her

  utilize the footwork of her Sword Style Skill even under such mundane

  circumstances, which filled him with pride as her former teacher.

  When she came back, she held a book in her hands and

  handed it to Sebastian.“We ran past our camp when we fled the

  battlefield. I made Marion take a small detour. You’ve had this book

  with you ever since Celder, probably longer, so I figured we should take

  it and keep it safe, just in case you couldn’t.”

  Sebastian accepted the book and all his remaining tension

  vanished. He had thought his manual was lost forever. It was more

  important to him than he let himself admit. A security blanket. The manual was the reason he had survived in this world at all, and though he had memorized it at this point, the physical book still represented that feeling to this day.

  “Thank you, truly.” Emotions welled up and he took a

  moment to let it sink in. All of it. He had survived impossible odds, again, as

  had his students and several of his men. Now, even his manual had

  returned to him. He couldn’t suppress a sincere smile.

  He shook off the sentimentality and said, “Anyway,” he

  said, “anything you guys can tell me about the eastern continent in

  general, or the Barren Wastelands? Since I had to avoid cities and towns

  most of the way here, I don’t actually know much beyond the basics.”

  Marion shrugged. “The eastern continent, or Mugongji as

  the locals call it, or its even more traditional name of the land of ten

  thousand mountains, is a place like any other, only it’s unique in that

  there is no central government. At least, there wasn’t until now. In

  Calindor we at least have the Federation Alliance. Here, there are

  countless Groups with their own laws and customs.

  “In the west and the central plains, most of the Groups

  are considered ‘good’. They protect the lower leveled—who they call

  mortals here for some reason—in their territories. Uphold justice and enforce law and

  order, that sort of thing.”

  “And now those ‘just’ organizations have joined forces and created this Great Martial Alliance,” Sebastian interjected.

  “Exactly. Here in the east there are more neutral or even

  directly—quote-unquote—‘evil’ Groups. Groups more focused on benefits,

  regardless of methods. They tend to make use of brothels and protection

  rackets as their sources of income. And as far as the Barren Wastelands

  are concerned, the sects and clans gave it the name due to its lack of

  resources. And that’s not just in terms of practitioners leveling—“

  “Practitioners?”

  “Practitioner is just what they call those who are

  accepted into sects and clans, that or martial artists. They’re

  typically higher leveled.

  “But there are also practically no resources for forging

  equipment and deposits for mining energy stones. Since there was nothing

  worthwhile for them here, the sects decided against the unnecessary

  administration of maintaining the territory. Still, none of them are

  willing to let anyone else claim the lands. Over time it became an

  unwritten agreement between the hundreds of Groups surrounding the

  Barren Wastelands to not claim its lands. Oh, and the natives here don’t

  exactly approve of the name ‘Barren Wastelands’. They call it, the Red

  Sea.”

  Over the next few weeks and months,

  Sebastian settled down in the town, Mujin, along with his unit. There

  was nothing much for them to do for the time being. In many ways, it was

  a similar life to what he had in Celder except his drive to cultivate

  and train was far stronger.

  Overall, it was peaceful.

  Safi and Gawen had both reached level 30 over the course

  of the past year. Between fighting bandits, hunting monsters as they

  traveled, and partaking in a large scale battle—even though the battle

  didn’t last very long—they gained far more experience than anything they

  had acquired back in Celder.

  They weren’t the only ones either, Marion had climbed

  firmly into the 40s. Ferran had already been over 30 when he transfered

  to Sebastian’s unit, and he had gained a few levels since then. Víctor

  was the only mage who survived, and while he had leveled, it was only

  two levels. The last of the survivors, Eduard, was one of the new

  recruits from Celder. Back in Celder, Eduard was a lumberjack by trade,

  and looked the part, but came from a military family. He, like Safi and

  Gawen, surpassed Minor Accomplishment at level 30 during the past year.

  Compared to the townsfolk of Mujin, all of them were extremely high-leveled.

  The Barren Wastelands—or rather, the Red Sea—could be both heaven on earth for the mortals who lived there, or hell.

  Since there weren’t any monsters or many other

  opportunities to gain levels, anyone who was willing to go to any

  lengths to level up would turn to crime. They would either join a gang

  or simply become killers who hunted people rather than monsters for

  experience.

  The months that Sebastian and the remnants of his unit

  stayed in Mujin had been mostly peaceful, but in the Red Sea, peace

  never lasted long.

  Once day, as Sebastian was cultivating cross-legged on a mat in his room, screams erupted from outside the house.

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