Chapter 197: A Scarred Neck

Chapter 197: A Scarred Neck

Three months had passed, each day seeming to drag on longer than the last as autumn fully settled in. The vibrant green trees that once lined the path at the start of the journey had long since shed their leaves, leaving behind bare branches that swayed mournfully in the wind. The golden remnants of their former glory now lay scattered across the muddy ground, slowly sinking into the soft earth.

I sat atop Speedy's back as he trudged through the untamed forest. Throughout this journey, I advanced to a three-star Qi Gathering Cultivator. A one-star increase was a pleasant surprise, happening faster than anticipated.

Although I had a general sense of where we were, I hadn't followed the conventional roads or paths. I sought the strange and the unknown, which tended to lurk in the wilderness. The last three villages we passed still recognized cultivators and knew of nearby sects, but I hadn't seen a village in almost a month. I was wondering if we'd come across any human settlements anytime soon. Still, there was a silver lining: the chances of anyone tracking me were slim to none. Even Speedy's tracks—he had only started walking about a month and a half into our journey—were easily lost in the constant autumn rains that turned the ground to mud.

If someone could somehow follow our trail through all that mud, they certainly wouldn't be using flying swords, as no shortcuts existed. They'd genuinely deserve to find me if they traced me through over a month's messy trails mixed with those of countless others.

As my mind wandered, the midday sun hung ideally above, an ideal reading light. I was just about to pull out a book when I spotted something through the tree canopy: a wooden roof atop a mud-brick cottage.

"Well, would you look at that? Signs of civilization again? I could've sworn we were walking through untouched lands," I said.

Speedy grunted, withdrawing his head into his shell before popping back out to bite one of the trees.

"Frustrated, big guy?" I smiled, patting his head softly. "I get it. Maybe you wanted to roam a little longer on your own. I was hoping we'd stumble across some ancient ruins myself, but wishes don't always come true."

As we moved closer, the forest canopy opened up, revealing muddy roads that led to a village. Children played in knee-deep water near a stream, trying to catch river crabs.

The place seemed a bit primitive, even for this world. A few dozen huts were clustered around the stream, and barren fields stretched out in the distance—autumn having left them fallow. Each house had its own outhouse.

The animals, however, were anything but ordinary. Four-horned goats, blue pigs, and purple chickens roamed about. These creatures would have looked bizarre in my old world, but they were perfectly normal here. Apparently, the color of a pig even affected the taste of its bacon, though I hadn't had the chance to try it yet.

As I approached, conversations died. Children stopped playing, and the women by the stream halted their washing. Wide-eyed, the villagers stared or hurried back into their huts, pretending they hadn't seen me.

At least the villagers seemed relatively normal, and despite the small size of the settlement, there were no apparent signs of inbreeding. That suggested there were other villages nearby where they could intermarry.

Then again, I hadn't precisely researched inbreeding in this world. Many cultivators married their cousins, often due to political alliances or to keep family techniques from spreading outside. As far as I knew, there wasn't a scandal about children born with extra fingers or webbed hands from such unions. Perhaps one of the perks of being a cultivator was resistance to the usual effects of inbreeding. Though, that didn't really make sense when I thought about it.

People are usually good at hiding these things. Maybe those babies were abandoned—or, in the more ruthless cases, quietly smothered in their cradles.

But now wasn't the time to dwell on thoughts of incest. The people here looked normal enough, if a bit thin, and they were dressed in old, rough leather garments typical of the poor in medieval society.

As I approached, more villagers gathered, their eyes fixed on me, and their expressions grew tense when they caught sight of Speedy.

"Lord Deity!" came a raspy voice from the crowd. An elderly man hobbled out, leaning heavily on a cane, with only a few wisps of hair clinging to his head. "It is an honor for us mere mortals to have someone as grand as yourself grace us with your presence."

He was quite the bootlicker, even managing to appear sincere, which explained how he'd survived to such an old age. He certainly had a way with words. Unfortunately for him, he was barking up the wrong tree.

Whenever someone addressed me as 'honorable lord cultivator' or 'young master,' I cringed inwardly.

From the relieved looks on some of the villagers' faces, it was clear this man held a position of authority—likely the village elder.

The old man came closer, his breath labored, hands trembling as he bowed deeply. "Our village welcomes the outer deity."

Deity? It seemed I'd wandered far off the beaten path. They thought I was some kind of god riding in on a giant turtle.

The elder still looked hesitant, but after a moment, he nodded, though doubt lingered in his expression. "We have no temple nearby, but there is a remote one where rumors say the goddess lives."

His gaze shifted, and he called out, "Lie Xiong, come forward and escort the deity to the temple. You are the most devoted among us and the best interpreter of the goddess's will."

A tall, tan-skinned man stepped forward from the back of the crowd. He had a rope burn scar around his neck and wore a rough robe with a bear pelt wrapped around his waist. A bear's head had been fashioned into a crude helmet, and he carried a bow slung over his shoulder with a large knife at his hip.

A hanging scar? That was unusual. In most regions, death sentences were carried out by decapitation, though punishments varied depending on the area. I hadn't researched this much, but hanging seemed rare in this world.

"Nice to meet you," I said with a wave and a smile.

"Lie Xiong is the best hunter in the village," the elder said. "He once killed a bear with nothing but a knife. The villagers say he is blessed by the goddess."

I jumped down from Speedy's back, landing in the mud without dirtying my clothes. I then covered my boots in Qi to keep the mud off.

Despite his fierce appearance, the hunter gave me a friendly smile and bowed his head. "I'll do my best to escort you to the shrine."

"I appreciate it," I said, returning his bow respectfully.

These people saw me as a god, but I didn't need to feed my ego. Besides, despite spending so much time around Song Song, I hadn't lost my manners.

"Can my friend stay in the village while we go?" I asked, gesturing to Speedy. "He's a bit slow; if the shrine is far, it would take us forever. Don't worry—he's tame and will just sleep here. You can continue your work as usual."

Speedy was slow, but only compared to other monstrous beasts. If he wanted to, he could move as fast as a horse. Still, the villagers looked uneasy about having a monstrous beast among them.

"He'll protect the village while I'm away," I added, patting Speedy's shell. "Just in case. If anything happens to you while I'm gone, even if it's not my fault, suspicion might fall on me. I don't like leaving things to chance."

That put them in a more agreeable mood. They were still wary of Speedy, but their blind faith in their goddess helped quell their fears. At least it should; even if they wanted to do something, none could pierce Speedy's defense.

"Follow me," said the hunter.

I did as instructed, and we walked along the outskirts of the village. Soon enough, we were back in the forest. Even here, the trees were bare, and the ground muddy. I used less Qi on my boots as the mud hardened beneath my feet.

I noticed the hunter moved almost silently despite being a mortal. His steps on the fallen leaves and muddy ground barely made a sound. Now that I was closer, I could see the scars on his right hand, specifically his index and middle fingers—likely from years of drawing a bow. He was a bowman, not a fist-fighter, and the knife at his side was probably for skinning animals, not combat.

Aside from the rope scar around his neck, he seemed like an average hunter. The village had no gallows, so where had it come from?

Suicide? Maybe. But his wrists had no scars, and he didn't seem like the type. Then again, people don't always show their true selves. Besides, there were easier ways to take one's life than hanging.

After a few minutes of silence, we were far from the village, surrounded by leafless trees. The air felt colder, and the forest quieter.

"You must be a cultivator," the hunter said, smiling as he glanced back at me.

Well, my suspicions just grew. It seemed my new "friend" knew more about the world than the rest of his village let on.