The sun was slightly beyond its mid-day position when Corin and Corvin broke through the tree line and first laid eyes on the city.

  At their feet was a long, winding gravel road that cut through to the halfway point of a tall mountain.

  However, the road was also cut and divided by stone towers and ended at a high stone wall carved from the very mountain they stood on.

  Outside of the well defended road, the rest of the visible mountain was nothing but sheer cliffs and jagged edges.

  Meaning the only obvious way a mortal was able to get in or out of the city was via that road.

  The twins could barely see the opening in the wall from where they stood… But they could definitely see the line of mortals leading to it.

  “That line of people has to be over a thousand feet long.” Corin watched as the line inched forward at a snail’s pace. “It’s going to take us all day to get inside.”

  “What she said. We don’t really have to wait in line; do we? Can’t we just… I don’t know… Sneak in somehow?”

  Corin folded her arms across her chest and stared at her brother. “And just how would you sneak in? You couldn’t even sneak up on that boar the other day.”

  Vrakhu ignored them.

  He followed the road up the mountain and around its first bend, where the truth of the towers revealed itself.

  There were twin buildings on both sides of the road, with a thick arch spanning the distance between them.

  The arch, and its supports were constructed with a light colored wood, then the various rails, edges, and pillars were painted dark brown for contrast.

  A wide angled roof was mounted over the arch to guide water and debris to the sides.

  Beneath the arch were five men in ramshackle armor. They appeared to be sitting around a large table, laughing and relaxing the day away.

  Vrakhu stood in plain view of the soldiers for a full minute; none of them bothered to look his way.

  It was clear they weren’t placed there for their abilities.

  They were decoration disguised as warriors.

  Moving his eyes down slightly, Vrakhu could see why they thought they could get away with it.

  A heavy steel gate wide enough to touch both towers at once, hung below the arch. It appeared to be supported by dark iron chains and rails to guide its fall.

  Vrakhu blinked.

  The largest steel construct he’d ever seen was a two handed mace.

  Steel was used in his time, but sparingly. It was notoriously hard to work with and only a few skilled forgemasters could reliably make something worth using.

  Spirit ore was much easier to work with and had similar resistances to steel. With the main difference being you needed to use spiritual energy to shape it.

  Steel was the mortal’s response to Spirit ore.

  And it was a good one — when it worked.

  Vrakhu discarded the men entirely and continued following the path, with the twins following a few paces behind.

  And for once, they weren’t speaking. Not to him, each other, or themselves.

  Corin and Corvin were nervous.

  More so than even the time they’d hunted a spirit beast on their own.

  Back then it was the two of them against one beast. But now… who knew how many powerful cultivators were behind those walls?

  What would happen if they offended someone?

  Would they be executed? Imprisoned?

  They only had vague memories of their father training, and while they doubted many matched him in strength. The truth was, they didn’t know.

  And even if they could guess, it wouldn’t matter.

  They couldn’t fight a cultivator.

  They came upon a family in an Ox-pulled cart after passing the second of four gatehouses.

  The Ox was old; solid gray around the mouth, with one crooked horn and the other missing entirely.

  The man driving the cart was similar to the Ox in appearance.

  Old, yet strong enough to handle the work he was given.

  A simple straw hat blocked the sun from his eyes despite the four patches across the brim. And his old robes were stained with sweat and dirt.

  By his side was a slightly younger woman. Her hair still dark, her skin still fair, though a few lines could be seen in her face and on her neck.

  Her hair was tied in a high bun and covered by a dark gray scarf that wrapped around her chin. It matched the robes she was wearing, which looked a few years newer than her husband’s.

  In the back of the cart was a young boy, probably the same age Corin and Corvin had been when they started training.

  His shaved head was growing dark hairs. His robes were a touch too big, but they were newer than even the mother’s. And upon his lap sat a large, leather-bound book that’d completely captured the boy’s attention.

  The rest of the wagon was filled with baskets and pots filled to the brim with a light powder Vrakhu couldn’t identify —

  But the smell instantly grabbed Corvin by the nose and had him itching for a bite.

  “Is that flour in the back there?” He couldn’t stop himself; he loved bread. Rolls, sandwiches, toasted or plain, but especially with jam.

  His question caught the attention of the adults at the front of the cart, but not the boy’s.

  The father’s eyes swept over the three of them.

  His mouth didn’t move, but Vrakhu heard him all the same.

  “An unkempt old man traveling with two wild looking children… If they're bandits, they’re the oddest-looking bunch I’ve ever seen.”

  He glanced ahead to the third gatehouse.

  “The dumbest too, if they were planning to rob us right here. My cousin is stationed at gate three today and he’s a Bronze Soul. They won’t make it three steps before he shoots them down.”

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  Vrakhu let the man’s thoughts slide away just like all the other inner voices shouting at him.

  Everyone had an inner voice. The stronger the soul, the louder the echo.

  Mortals couldn’t help it. Their every thought would, unerringly, make it to his ears so long as they were within range of his senses.

  However, cultivators were different… Or they were supposed to be.

  When a cultivator withheld their energy and kept it contained, their inner voice was silenced too.

  “Oh, there’s Cousin Taro and his tagalongs… Who’s that walking with them? I don’t recognize any of them.”

  Vrakhu’s expressionless face belied his inner irritation.

  It seemed he had two choices moving forward.

  Deafen himself for the duration of their stay or accept that he’d never have a moment’s peace.

  His choice was obvious then.

  He hadn’t known peace since the day the seal shattered.

  Why would he miss it now?

  The woman smiled, showing a mouth full of off-white teeth.

  “You have a good eye. Every last grain is grade two flour that we milled ourselves on our farm.”

  Corvin’s eyes grew large and he took another look at the flour.

  Grade two was the same kind their grandparents used, but their parents said they couldn't afford to buy grade two all the time.

  Lady Dryden used grade three flour unless it was a special occasion, like a birthday or when their grandparents came to visit.

  And that was still good, he enjoyed it.

  But grade two bread was like eating a cloud compared to grade three.

  His eyes slid back to the old man and the woman. He took in their clothes, the cart, the Ox, and the boy sitting in the back.

  These farmers were probably wealthier than his parents…

  “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you around, stranger.” The woman’s eyes were locked onto Vrakhu’s face.

  She saw the same things her husband did; this was a man from the wilds. No doubt about that.

  But she also noticed some things her husband missed.

  The straightness in his back as he walked.

  It took a confident person to walk into a city looking as he did and not show a hint of nervousness.

  She’d been around warriors all her life. She could tell the difference between a pretender and the real deal —

  Vrakhu’s emotionless yellow eyes slid over to her as this thought crossed her mind.

  The woman felt a chill rush down her spine hard enough to make her hands shake.

  “Yep. He’s definitely the real deal… Maybe I could convince him to help us with our problem.”

  Vrakhu blinked.

  And it dawned on the couple; that was the first time they’d seen him blink.

  Vrakhu watched them for a few steps before he spoke. “Those pots look heavy. Are you able to unload the cart on your own?”

  The man scowled; assuming the older man’s words to be a slight against him.

  The woman’s face remained neutral, though her thoughts were anything but.

  “We don’t need any help" — Whack! — "Oof!” The farmer glared at his wife and rubbed his side.

  “You know; we do need a little help. My husband here hurt his back the other day and the thought of hiring strangers to help puts a sour taste in my mouth. You know?”

  Corin couldn’t hide her confusion.

  She blinked a few times and scratched the back of her head. “Aren’t we strangers too? What difference would it make if she hired us or waited to hire someone else?”

  The farmer’s jaw tightened in surprise.

  He leaned over and whispered with his mouth directly beside his wife’s ear. “Are you out of your mind!? Look at them. They’ll be lucky to make it past the gate!”

  She pinched his thigh and replied in the same tone of voice. “Hush, husband. I know what I’m doing.”

  The farmer’s eyes darted to her fingers and he bit his lip to keep from shouting.

  He was going to beat her brother over the head with a shovel the next time he saw that layabout.

  How dare he teach her such strange things. What use were pressure point strikes to a mortal!?

  Vrakhu could tell who handled the business and who worked the field from their interaction.

  The wife leaned around her husband and smiled at the two kids walking beside the strange man.

  “Is this… Nice man, your grandfather?”

  Corin and Corvin’s expressions soured slightly.

  Would their master take offense to her mistake?

  He glanced at the twins, and they held their breath in anticipation of his answer.

  Then his beard twitched.

  He met the woman’s eyes and spoke his truth.

  “Indeed. They are my disciples also.”

  The twins slowly turned their heads and stared at each other in perfect unison.

  “Since when were we related!?” They shouted in their minds, even their inner voices were synchronized.

  The woman’s smile widened slightly; he’d all but confirmed her suspicions!

  These three were cultivators.

  Their rank didn’t matter. Their presence was what counted, and the old man had that in spades.

  “Now I just need to reel them in.”

  “Did you hear that? They’re cultivators. Oh, how exciting! I’ve never met one in person before.” She stomped her feet on the cart and swayed side to side with infectious energy.

  Corvin couldn’t help but smile along with her.

  Corin though; she found the woman a little suspicious.

  Cultivators were beyond human.

  Would a house cat be excited to find out it was standing next to a tiger?

  Vrakhu heard Corin’s thoughts and his mood improved.

  She was certainly clever.

  The wife forced herself to calm down and looked between the twins, while attempting to avoid looking at the old man.

  Despite all three being cultivators, she didn’t get the same feeling of dread when she looked at them.

  “What say you three help us unload our cart, and I’ll make you a hot meal?”

  Corvin perked up immediately; he was already nodding before she finished speaking.

  Corin was confused.

  Food?

  They had plenty of food back at base. It was Ren they needed, not something of questionable quality and taste.

  Vrakhu looked towards the sky for a moment.

  He’d have to talk with Corvin about being led around by the nose.

  “Our visit was to find new clothes for these two. If you wouldn’t mind lending us your aid, we'll lend ours in return.”

  The woman’s smile faltered, just for a moment before it returned in full force.

  “How strange. The way he spoke, it was almost like he knew something… No, that’s not possible. He’s just being intentionally vague like grandpa liked to do. He doesn’t know about the vagabonds, he couldn’t.”

  The woman’s stomach turned queasy beneath Vrakhu’s gaze.

  She was starting to think this may not have been the best idea —

  “Well, that’s the first thing that’s made sense today.” The farmer nodded his agreement to their quest.

  He hated seeing children wearing rags like that.

  He’d seen too many kids on the street lately…

  He couldn’t help all of them, but he could certainly help these two.

  Besides, they didn’t seem so bad.

  “They might even get Tsuta to pull his nose out of that cultivator book for a few minutes. He hasn’t put it down since his layabout uncle gave it to him last week.”

  “You help us unload the cart, I’ll buy an outfit for the both of them. Deal?” The farmer leaned over and extended his hand to Vrakhu.

  His wife moved to get his attention — But froze when she met Vrakhu’s eyes.

  It was too late to run away now.

  Vrakhu gently grabbed the farmer’s hand.

  The deal was sealed.

  Now, the woman could only hope she hadn’t just invited a monster into the coop to deal with a couple foxes.