Tarthocas : Chronicles of the Transmigrating Scribe

“Now what do I do?” Ling Xuan muttered to himself as he left the mansion. He planned to stay in the city for a while to further his cultivation through repeated consumption of the elixirs and pills he had just acquired. Yet, a nagging thought troubled him.

“What happens if I get swept up in the war?” Ling Xuan furrowed his brows. Even if he managed to completely construct his first pathway, would it be powerful enough to resist Grandmasters and Masters? The only reason he could best Experts so far was either due to external help or by using a skill so powerful it weakened him significantly.

“Sadly, the only landmass in the world is this continent,” Ling Xuan sighed in regret, feeling the weight of his isolation. He had no place to retreat to if things went awry.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, an idea struck him. “Why didn’t I think of that!” he exclaimed, a renewed sense of purpose flooding his mind.

Ling Xuan started walking, and he continued until he reached the slums. The stark contrast between the opulence of the Golden Pill Sect and the poverty of the slums was jarring. The narrow, winding alleys were filled with dilapidated buildings and the faces of the downtrodden.

“Where are they?” Ling Xuan muttered under his breath as he scanned the grimy, cluttered alleyways. The slums were a maze of dilapidated structures and shadowy figures, each corner hiding potential threats and secrets. His sharp eyes darted from one figure to another until they landed on a hunched-back old man sitting on the ground, clad in tattered rags.

“Aha! Got you!” Ling Xuan suddenly exclaimed, his voice low but firm. He strode towards the old man with purpose.

The old man, noticing Ling Xuan’s approach, raised a trembling hand in supplication. “Sir, give me some food,” he begged, his voice frail and desperate.

Ling Xuan paid no heed to the plea, instead reaching into his pouch and tossing a gleaming gold coin at the man's feet. “Lead me to your den,” he commanded coldly.

Fear and greed flashed across the old man’s eyes as he hurriedly nodded and scrambled to his feet. “Please, follow me,” he said, his voice a mix of submission and eagerness. He shuffled forward, leading Ling Xuan through a series of narrow, twisting alleyways. The stench of decay and filth hung heavy in the air, but Ling Xuan’s determination kept him focused.

After a few minutes, they arrived at a rundown house, its walls crumbling and roof sagging. The old man gestured towards the door, his hand shaking slightly. “He will be here any moment,” he said before quickly excusing himself and disappearing into the shadows.

Ling Xuan stepped inside the dimly lit interior, the musty smell of neglect filling his nostrils. The room was sparse, with broken furniture and scattered debris. He heard the sound of footsteps—TAK, TAK—approaching from deeper within the house.

A man dressed in rags appeared, leaning heavily on a wooden staff. His hair was matted, and his face bore the marks of hardship and struggle. “What do you need?” the man asked gruffly, his eyes narrowing as he sized up Ling Xuan.

“Information on something outside,” Ling Xuan replied, his voice steady as he tossed ten gold coins onto a nearby table. The coins clinked loudly, their golden glint catching the man's greedy gaze.

The man’s eyes widened, and he quickly grabbed the coins, counting them with deft fingers. He looked up at Ling Xuan, a sly smile creeping across his face. “A gold for each sentence my mouth may leave!”

Ling Xuan nodded, understanding the terms. “Alright, tell me what’s the most surefire way to escape the war.”

The man chuckled darkly, the sound echoing through the empty house. “Hehehe, it’s impossible to escape it! The Sects and The Empire will drag everything down with them into anarchy!”

Ling Xuan’s expression remained impassive. “Tell me the way to avoid the war for the longest period of time,” he demanded, his tone brooking no argument.

The man’s smile faded slightly as he considered the question. After a moment, he leaned in closer, his voice a conspiratorial whisper. “Be a mortal,” he said simply, his eyes locking onto Ling Xuan’s.

Hearing this, Ling Xuan frowned deeply. There was no way he would consider crippling himself again. “Is there no other way?” he asked, his voice edged with frustration.

The man shrugged nonchalantly, his eyes filled with indifference. “I only know of that.”

Ling Xuan turned away, his mind racing with the grim reality of his situation. Yet, as he stepped towards the door, a sudden thought struck him. He spun back around, his eyes sharp with renewed hope. “Are there any landmasses outside the continent?” he asked, his voice filled with urgency.

“Hahaha, indeed yes, there are many!” The man laughed heartily, his eyes twinkling with amusement at Ling Xuan’s sudden interest. “There are several islands!”

“How many?” Ling Xuan pressed, leaning forward.

“Ten,” the man replied, his tone becoming more serious.

“When were they discovered?” Ling Xuan continued, his curiosity piqued.

“During the Xia Ancestor’s rule!” the man exclaimed, a hint of reverence in his voice. “He launched several expeditions for unknown reasons, and during one of these, they discovered the islands! He decreed that no Sect may ever step foot on those islands, but of course, there will always be those who, although not of a sect, will act for it if given enough of a reward! Yet even then, those islands contain incredibly rare herbs! Who knows, if you go there, you may even find a treasure, keke.”

“How can I get there?” Ling Xuan asked hurriedly, his heart racing with anticipation.

“Through ships, of course,” the man replied, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. “But even with that, it’ll take you months before you can reach it!”

“Who is allowed to go there?” Ling Xuan inquired, his mind already formulating plans.

“Anyone can go! They just have to be rich!” the man said, his eyes gleaming with greed.

Ling Xuan’s mind raced with the possibilities. The idea of untouched islands filled with rare herbs and potential treasures was incredibly enticing. He could see a path forward, a way to avoid the war and continue his cultivation in relative peace. The prospect of months at sea was daunting, but the reward seemed worth the risk.

The old beggar’s house was a grim place, filled with the stench of decay and the sounds of the desperate. The walls were stained with years of neglect, and the floor was littered with debris. But within this squalor, Ling Xuan found a glimmer of hope. He turned to the man, his expression resolute.

Ling Xuan reached into his sack and threw several gold coins towards the man.

“Book me a seat.”

The man greedily nodded, his eyes glinting with avarice as he clutched the gold coins. “Come back tomorrow, everything will be ready,” he said, a sly smile spreading across his face.

Ling Xuan nodded, his mind already racing with plans. “All right,” he replied, suppressing the emotions bubbling beneath the surface. He turned and left the rundown house, the door creaking ominously as it closed behind him.

As he walked through the narrow, grimy alleyways of the slums, Ling Xuan couldn’t help but feel a surge of anticipation. The prospect of treasures from the times of Old Xia filled him with renewed hope. “If there are truly treasures from the times of Old Xia, then they can surely help the completion of the Ox Pathway!” he thought, his heart pounding with excitement.

As Ling Xuan exited the slums, he directly went to one of the several taverns and checked in for a day.

—---------------------------------------------------------

Ling Xuan took a deep breath, his mind sharp and focused. He carefully uncorked the vial containing the rare elixir. Its faint, otherworldly glow bathed his face in a soft, eerie light. With unshakable resolve, he raised the vial to his lips and let the liquid slide down his throat. He could feel the potent energy of the elixir as it began to merge with his bloodstream, its power immediately asserting itself within his body.

Yet, Ling Xuan was not one to surrender to impulsive instincts. With a calm and practiced mind, he reached out to his meridians, directing the flow of his Qi to create a subtle barrier. This barrier was a delicate shield designed to temper the elixir’s raw power, preventing it from overwhelming his cultivation base.

“Let’s see if this works,” Ling Xuan murmured, his voice barely a whisper. He relaxed his control just enough to allow the elixir to gradually integrate with his Qi. He could feel the energy within his meridians steadily increasing, a sensation that was both thrilling and slightly disconcerting.

As the elixir's energy continued to infuse his Qi, Ling Xuan became aware of a significant shift. The energy surged, flowing with increased vigor through his channels. He narrowed his focus, his concentration unwavering as he directed the Qi to converge on a specific point within his body.

The Qi obeyed his command with remarkable precision, gathering forcefully in his lower abdomen. Ling Xuan felt the rush of power as the Qi condensed, a mingling of pain and pleasure as if his very essence was being reshaped. He gritted his teeth, determined not to let the discomfort reveal itself on his face. His eyes were sharp and intent, narrowing with fierce concentration.

And then—

BANG!

A muffled explosion echoed within Ling Xuan’s mind, reverberating through his very core. He could feel the energy surging through him as the 36th meridian was successfully formed, a tangible manifestation of his internal cultivation. The sensation was both exhilarating and exhausting, but the result was undeniable: his cultivation had reached a new level.

“Well, at least it works,” Ling Xuan thought, examining the newly formed meridian within his Qi network. Though the energy was somewhat less than that of an expert’s, it was sufficient for forming the meridian and significantly enhancing his strength.

He decided not to use the other elixir and pill for the moment. “I’m going to be on the ship for months; I can use them then,” he reasoned

—------------------------------------------------------------

The next day arrived with a misty dawn. Ling Xuan made his way back to the rundown house, its weathered exterior and creaking wooden door familiar now. As he stepped inside, the dank air of the place greeted him, mingled with the faint, musty odor of neglect.

The old man awaited him, seated in the same spot as before, his face etched with an expression of sly anticipation. His eyes gleamed with a mix of greed and excitement as he saw Ling Xuan enter.

“Is everything ready?” Ling Xuan inquired, his voice steady and composed.

“Yes,” the old man replied, his tone tinged with a conspiratorial air. He handed over several pieces of parchment with a flourish. “Here is your ticket. The ship is scheduled to leave port in two weeks. It seems some rich fools are panicking over the impending war, causing them to forward the date of departure”

Ling Xuan accepted the ticket with a nod, feeling a sense of relief and impatience. He glanced at the parchment, noting the details of the ship's departure and the journey ahead.

Before Ling Xuan could turn to leave, the old man spoke up again, his voice dropping to a whisper as if revealing a dark secret. “Do you know that the founder of The Golden Pill Sect, during his final days, went to those islands?”

Ling Xuan’s curiosity was piqued. “No, why?”

“Nobody knows for sure,” the old man said, his voice dripping with intrigue. “Some speculate he went there because they’d found something.”

“Found what?” Ling Xuan asked, a frown of curiosity forming on his brow.

“God itself” the old man replied cryptically, a sardonic grin stretching across his face.

Ling Xuan raised an eyebrow at the enigmatic reply, his thoughts swirling with the implications of such a claim. Yet, sensing the conversation was veering into murky waters, he chose not to press further. He turned on his heel, ready to leave.

As he reached the door, he paused and looked back. “What are they called again? The islands?”

The old man’s grin widened as he answered. “Shambala. They call it The Shambala Archipelago.”