Desolate Mage: A Legend Reborn!

During the journey, Lars continued to meditate on and digest the movements and sword slash he had seen from a first person"s point of view, from the viewpoint of the Blacksword All-might himself. At night he would draw his sword and trace out the moves slowly, recreating the scene again and again to slowly catch the esoteric feeling he had experienced at that brief moment that seemed to encompa.s.s centuries and millennia, erasing the boundaries of time and s.p.a.ce.

And despite the gap being larger than that of a deity and a bacterium, Lars could sense that his swordsmans.h.i.+p and understanding of the way of the blade were improving just by practising that one move alone. When he extended his practice to the other sword stances and moves drilled into him by the multi-weapon Arena training, he realised that the sword intent cultivated through his endless practice of the s.p.a.ce-shearing sword strike had bled over to every single move he made - granted, that is, that he had a sword in hand.

He could feel himself improving literally with every heft and swing of the sword!

Simultaneously, he sensed his inner vitality and blood energy growing more robust, a product of the Minotaur"s Bone Marrow merging with his own blood-producing cells and strengthening his body from within.

Finally, the second mana core from the lesser spirit was developing at a rapid pace; by now it already showed growth up to the lower-Adept level. Nevertheless, despite the speed of advancement, the later realms and stages would only take longer and longer to breach into.

With all these improvements, he still knew too that he had a long way to go.

And so the journey slowly came to a close as the scenery accompanying them slowly turned from spa.r.s.e forests to rolling gra.s.slands, and from gra.s.slands to some remnant sandy desert areas, rocky and devoid of life except scavengers and some poisonous insects and reptiles.

Very soon though, their surroundings changed back to rolling hills once more, covered in greenery and with sounds of the chirps of birds and gurgling of small brooks.

On the 5th day, some small villages and settlements came into sight - their leader decided to stop by for only one night to eat, rest and recuperate, for as desperate as they were to be rid of their travelling companion, they were also road weary from the crisis on the first night followed by a tense journey afterwards.

To the surprise and somewhat to the disappointment of the villagers, this group was unlike the usual travellers of rowdy men. They were very quiet, perhaps even afraid as they barely ordered any drinks, thus depriving the village folk of some much-needed income. However, on the plus side, the group also did not cause any trouble, instead, they seemed eager to head to bed and finish the journey.

Finally on the 7th day, right on track, they reached the desert city of Gorun - another city with a great heritage, formed and built during the days of desert life and with the characteristics of a city built in an arid location - flat and solid roofs to guard against strong winds and each house built up against the next.

However, this design was only true for the old city sectors; the newer housing and buildings in the surrounding that were erected after the desert greening shared the common characteristics of any seaside port or city in a lush gra.s.sland.

The city was very, very big, and made up of various small settlements that had mushroomed up around the riverside over the centuries. Finally, the rag-tag band of settlers had united under what would come to be known as the Northern Point Dukedom, forming a metropolis made up of many small towns and towns.h.i.+ps into a city with a population of 400,000 or more.

Gorun was the 2nd largest centre of trade in the entirety of the Kingdom of the Sands, preceded only by Danedaar which was located thousands of kilometres away in the central region. And due to its position as the hub of the north, Gorun was also called home by many a mighty powerhouse, leading to this also being the centre of government, military and power in the upper third of the nation.

Lars and the entire of the supply group slowly queued up then entered the gates easily due to their Kingdom-issued travel pa.s.ses. They simply needed to present their travelling and import-export licenses, and once it was confirmed by the Customs inspection that all doc.u.ments were in order, they were let through into the city proper.

Despite his own confidence in his power and capabilities of disguise, without travelling together, Lars knew that the highly developed city"s security would be difficult to get through. Sneaking in past countless powerhouses with numerous defence and detection magic formations... That would have been an impossible feat.

And even if he had tried to enter with his own Kingdom-issued doc.u.ments? He would have brought heaps of suspicion on himself as a lone traveller who managed to cross nearly a thousand kilometres alone without many supplies. And attention of that sort was the last thing he wanted.

Nevertheless, in antic.i.p.ation of entering the city and in order to avoid unwanted scrutiny, he had applied a triple-layered seal on himself.

The first was a conventional and simple magic seal placed on his mana core to redirect the flows of mana to nourish his secondary mana core. This would, to a casual observer, make him appear to only have the strength of an Adept-level mage - albeit one with nigh infinite mana.

The second layer of disguise was a far more intricate and submerged seal crafted onto his "forgery" ring around his neck. This sh.e.l.l of duplicity would make even an observer who pierced his first seal see him as only an Elite-level mage.

The last, a demonic seal crafted from infernal magic formations to suppress himself down from the Legendary realm to the Grandmaster realm. This would be his final line of deception like a tree hidden in a forest, to ensure that no one expected him to have layered so many levels of camouflage.

All in all, he would appear as merely a dual-discipline pract.i.tioner Magic Swordsman at the mid-upper Adept level of skill, which was still an impressive level of strength for a merely 15-year-old youth!

Once they were through the gates, the skittish Khalid and other wagon workers and men hurriedly bid Lars a subdued, tense goodbye before rus.h.i.+ng off. nerve-wracked from the 7 days of journeying together.

Lars merely nodded numbly, he had planned to part ways with the men anyway.

For him, it was time to advance his mission - to find out how to return to Earth; and if that was not possible, to head to the All-Heaven Divine Empire for a friendly visit.

* * * * *

After parting ways, the newly minted Magic Swordsman asked around at the Customs area for a good place to stay, showing his appreciation before begining the conversation through cold hard cash. This opened up the doors of the officer"s hearts and mouths, and they helpfully gave him the name of a mid-range place to stay that was comparatively safe for new travellers.

He followed the directions given and arrived in front of a slightly old inn and winehouse, one that had seen better days but was still in good shape for its age. He pushed open the doors to the sound of a ringing bell and entered the abode that was still empty in the late morning.

He directly checked in at the reception and bar counter for 1 night and brought his stuff up to his room. He took a look around; despite being small, without a window and with a rickety, tiny bed which probably had countless bugs, mites and perhaps various other unmentionable forms of filth, it was a pleasant sight.

He breathed in the slightly sour and musty air and let out a sigh of relief.

This was his first true day as a free man for umpteen years!

And no matter how bad the room was, it couldn"t be worse than his forced stay in the prison-like Arena for the past 9 years!

Nevertheless, he only allowed himself scant minutes to enjoy his first sensation of being free and unfettered. He still had the responsibility to save his world - after which, he would make sure to look for Moira and reunite with her in Danedaar.

But before that, he needed power. Far more power.

And for that, he needed money to close the gap of wealth and gear between himself and the powerhouses of this planet!

So Lars quickly and conversantly pulled out a make-up and disguise box from his bags. He extracted some pigments, brushed and fake brows, lashes and other supplementary items.

He used his various tools in the disguise kit and he darkened his skin to look tan like the indigenous peoples then applied some extra eye-liner to make his eyebrows bus.h.i.+er and fuller.

By the end of his deft artwork, the soft-faced handsome pretty boy teenager had transformed himself into a savage and rugged scar-faced man. As for his height, he changed the impression he would give others by wearing a second layer of clothes over his first to make himself look stouter and stockier, then hunched slightly, limping as he walked.

He did not forget to also paint over his scabbard and sword to look slightly newer - regardless, it still looked old and well-worn. To an observer, it would look nothing like the unbreakable artefact it was modelled after.

He also supplemented all these with the use of very light cosmetic spells to change the lighting and shadows on his face; the kind of spells people would a.s.sume as being used merely for aesthetic purposes.

Lars conjured a mirror from ice to check himself out.

As he gazed into the mirror, a seedy-looking middle-aged ruffian with many scars and wrinkled skin gazed back at him.

He grunted roughly in satisfaction, already into character.

He was ready.

Before leaving, he laid some simple defence, alarm, tracking and concealment spells on his things. Then he took just his money pouch and Brightstar with him as he left the room.

The young man then headed straight to the visitor"s information centre in between the Western marketplace district and the administrative district.

It was time for the lost boy to find his way home.