50th of Season of Fire, 57th year of the 32nd cycle

  The mountains were much closer to the port than they seemed, mere thirty miles away, and third realm cultivators covered such short distances in half an hour of relaxed jog.

  Hazel was still with Newt’s team when they reached the mountain’s peak. And as Newt ascended the summit, he realized that the entire mountain range was in fact a single, titanic volcano, the mountain peaks were jagged tips of the volcano’s crown, while the crater three hundred yards below was a domain of roiling fog.

  That explains the geysers on the map, but I wonder why nobody bothered to mention that the Valley of the Lost is located inside a huge volcano? Also, are there lakes of lava or similar hazards in the higher realm zones? What if you accidentally fall into one because you can’t see it?

  Like Newt, the rest of the party stopped, watching the fog’s erratic, cloudlike movement. Half a minute passed, and Newt found no obvious rules to the flow, except that it had nothing to do with the wind. Then Hazel drew a deep, intoxicated breath and smiled.

  “All right! Enough awe, you’re going in there and getting out before you know it.” Hazel trotted down the slope, sending small trickles of disturbed stones into the fog, and suddenly addressed Roselilly.

  “Little sister, mist is one of the possible water-air combinations. Keep your mind open to inspiration, the valley is fascinating.”

  She stopped some fifty feet above the drifting fog and turned around to face the team.

  “This is as far as I go. Your destination is over there.” She pointed towards the far end of the crater. “I recommend you take the right path, it has one more misterium deposit, but ultimately, the decision is yours. There are several deposits on either route, and just so you know, the third and fourth realm zones are thoroughly explored. You won’t find any misterium outside the marked locations. Good luck.”

  Hazel waited expectantly while the rest of them stared at the wall of fog. Newt’s gaze was one of excitement, while the rest of the team ranged from hesitant to fearful.

  “Come on, there’s nothing in there you should be nervous about. There’s four of you, and all the monsters wandering the mist do so alone. Go get them!”

  Newt almost laughed as the gung-ho fist that shot into the air. The immature gesture seemed completely at odds with the dignified senior apprentice sister. Regardless of how silly, the move worked on its intended target, and Roselilly smiled for the first time since Newt had met her.

  “Thank you, Big Sis.” Roselilly took the lead and walked towards the impenetrable mist.

  “Don’t walk more than ten feet apart, you don’t know what the visibility is like!” Hazel shouted, and the rest of the team followed after Roselilly, Obsidian rushing to take the fore.

  Newt could see them advancing, and when he entered the mist, the sensation did not differ from finding himself in regular mist anywhere else. The sun was dimmer, but still up, Obsidian had slowed his steps and behind them—

  Newt turned around, he was merely a single step inside the mist, but it expanded into eternity behind his back. Then, Jasmine appeared, two steps behind him, followed by Roselilly.

  Newt ignored the two women, focusing instead on the distance. They were mere steps away, the edge of the fog no more than a couple of feet beyond them, he was certain of it, and while he could see two dozen yards in front of himself, somehow the fog was everywhere, and the space behind the two seemed stretched, devoured by a thicker mist.

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  Newt was not the only one looking back.

  “Weird, isn’t it?” Obsidian said, then cleared his throat at the obvious sign of weakness. “Everyone, we have to stay together. We can do this, all we have to do is hike for a week, maybe kill a spirit beast or two, and we can go back home, hopefully get a decent reward and maybe find an easy mission we can do in two to three months.”

  The words lifted the girls’ spirits, or it could have been the initial amazed whisper, and they smiled. It was the faintest stretch of the lips, nervous like hell, but it was there, and it was a good sign.

  We’re making progress. Now, if only there was a weak spirit beast to jump us, things would be perfect. Defeating it with only slight effort would do wonders for our morale.

  Newt’s empty musings remained just that. Half an hour passed with no attacks, and hardly a handful of words exchanged. The visibility remained between ten and fifteen yards, with pale, misty outlines visible up to twice that distance.

  Newt enjoyed the silence and observed the strange terrain, which proved quite mundane. They were walking through a hip-high grassland, the grass green and lush despite the intense heat. While the refreshing smell of trampled grass tickled his nose, the silence oppressing his ears made stark sensory contrast. The only sound in the entire world was the rustle of the grass as the four disciples moved through it.

  Newt strained his ears, and he believed he could distinguish each of their movements. His seemed normal, natural. Obsidian and Jasmine move forward with heavy steps that did not quite thud as much as reverberate through the ground while Roselilly breezed through the tall grass, her steps inaudible, and even the grass barely rustling in her passing.

  Then there was the ever-present mist. Warm vapor clung to his skin, soaking through his sect robe and reaching all the way to his underwear. Another half hour, and Newt would be completely wet.

  He could block it with Granite Crust, treating it like a physical attack, which almost felt true with how invasive the moisture was, but the bestiary entries stopped him. The spirit beasts native to the Valley of the Lost had a keen sense for spiritual energy. While the mists dampened their senses, it still had an effective range of around one hundred and fifty yards. The odds of a spirit beast finding them because Newt used his technique were minuscule, but the benefit of minor comfort was just as negligible.

  “So, you guys want to exchange pointers?” Newt asked, recalling how physical exchanges helped build camaraderie back in the Frostworm expedition. Then he remembered how “friendly” the exchange of pointers was in the Explorer’s Gate.

  “And I mean it in a friendly manner. You know to see who can do what, and to better coordinate our effort. Roselilly, I see you have a bow.”

  I have seen it for a day now, but didn’t get the chance to mention it. Can cultivators use bows? Is there a reason she’s using one? Should it be obvious?

  Newt had never heard anything about the subject, so he asked, giving the woman a sheepish smile after her questioning look.

  “Healers tend to fight from behind their comrades. Since we split our time between regular fighting techniques and healing ones, we are not as proficient as others. Ideally, healers don’t fight at all. We stay far from any serious combat, treating patients brought to us. But that’s not always possible, so Master insists we must pick up real life experience over the course of inner disciples missions.”

  Newt nodded, genuine interest in his eyes.

  “And the bow? I heard it’s a complex weapon to learn, and delivering spiritual energy through arrows seems really difficult at our realm, and needlessly convoluted at the higher ones.”

  Roselilly nodded. “I understand the origin of your misperception. Yes, bow is difficult to master, and I’m not there, yet. But, I can make spiritual energy attacks at a much greater distance than you. It requires a lot of training, but it’s really effective for air-attributed cultivators. Between learning anatomy and healing and archery and archery techniques, I hardly have the time to advance my realm, let alone cultivate it.”

  She smiled, but it was not a happy smile. “I’m certain I will die of old age before I reach the point where I lack the strength to push the wall of my realm further and grow. There’s so much to do, and so little time.”

  Roselilly choked up a bit whenever she mentioned the lack of time, keenly aware that she had wasted a year of her life. Newt thought it a good sign. She understood she had done something wrong, and she was taking steps to make things better. The only real question remaining was whether she could make it or not.

  The woman fell into a contemplative silence, and Newt left her alone. The topic of her fighting style interested him, as did the healing arts, but neither was something he himself would ever use. They just seemed like interesting subjects to pass the time.

  “Quiet,” Jasmine whispered. “I think I heard something.”

  The party froze, eyes and ears peeled. Then Newt caught it too. The rustle of grass even though they stood still. A spirit beast was upon them, and they were ready.