Dragon Heart. Land Of Magic. Litrpg Wuxia Saga. Book 6 - Volume 1 Chapter 11 432
As they walked deeper into the forest, Hadjar and Einen attracted curious and hostile glances, but they didn’t spot many people among the trees. During their years as ordinary disciples, these people had learned to disguise themselves perfectly in this eternal forest. And their huts as well. Being an experienced tracker, Hadjar could determine where large settlements were located using indirect signs. The forest went on for many miles, and it was logical to assume that one could find both single houses and rather large ‘villages’ in here.
“This seems like a nice place,” Hadjar muttered as they climbed another hill.
From this vantage point, they could see all of the surrounding area, which meant that even if someone wanted to attack them despite the school rules, they would have to try very hard.
“Do you know how to build a house?” Einen asked.
The islander had worked with wood before, but could only build boats or rafts. He had no special skills or knowledge when it came to building anything else. Smugglers and slave traders didn’t really need huts or houses.
“Well, you’ll make the traps, then.”
Einen smiled bloodthirstily. Pirates didn’t know anything about building houses, but they could make a deadly trap out of almost anything.
The friends had travelled light. All of their meager possessions had been placed in Hadjar’s spatial ring. Looking around to make sure no one was watching them, Hadjar mentally dived into the storage space of the artifact. In addition to the fairy’s body, the scroll with the image of the Black General, and the smallest drop of the elixir of the gods, the ring also held several heaps of Imperial coins, gold, and two travel bags with various items. These contained, among other things, two axes. Hadjar took them out and handed one to his friend.
Back when he’d been an officer in the army of Lidus, he’d gotten enough lessons from Dogar, their commander, to be quite good at building a hut and even a whole barracks. That was a long time ago. At the time, he’d been at the Formation level. Now, as a true cultivator, he could do so much more, far more quickly.
Spitting on his palms, Hadjar took the handle of the axe and swung, cutting down a tree that was three feet thick with one blow. He made terrifyingly quick progress. By the evening of his first day as an ordinary disciple, Hadjar cut down enough logs to train the entire Bear squad with.
Einen kept coming back to collect the bark and branches. Hadjar didn’t know what his friend was making on the outskirts of their new home, but the baldy kept asking him not to go down alone. He promised to show Hadjar a safe way down later. Hadjar didn’t argue. He was too busy.
With one mighty push, he drove ten-foot stakes into the ground, using them as the foundation. Then he laid down the floor, put up the walls, and made a few rooms. Then he added a chimney, a place for the stove, a convenient porch, and an attic. Sixteen hours of work was more than enough time for a Heaven Soldier to make a hut, but Hadjar had no particular desire to do so.
They’d need this place not just to live or sleep in, but also as a safe haven where they could meditate, and maybe it would even provide the comfort of knowing that they had their own home. A purely psychological need.
The roof was then covered with clay and turf, and that was the end of it.
By the time he finished, it was already dawn. Einen showed him the safe route to the bottom of the hill. Slightly confusing, it wound between the invisible, even to Hadjar, traps. They could hardly harm a true cultivator, but they would detain them and make enough noise to alert both of them. They also worked perfectly against Concealment Techniques.
The last exams ended and the school territory came alive.
Hadjar, wiping away sweat and washing himself with water from a hastily dug well, joined Einen. Together, they wandered between the traps, down to the bottom of the hill, and headed for the main square.
“Look!” Other ordinary disciples whispered around them. They were also heading for the Hall of Fame. “These are the two newbies who didn’t agree to pay Araz.”
“Idiots. Their days here are numbered.”
“Even if they gave up their tokens right now, Araz would still kill them.”
They were certain that the giant Araz would be able to easily deal with the two newcomers. At the entrance exam, he’d been able to knock a huge chunk of stone from the stele with his ‘Diamond Fist’ Technique!
“Did you hear that there was a guy who could almost cut through the stele?”
“Yep. And he was immediately beaten by someone who actually did it.”
Hadjar looked at the disgruntled Einen and grinned triumphantly. It was a friendly jest, nothing more.
“Yesterday, there was a guy who beat both of them,” another voice said immediately. “They say that he was able to cut one stele down and scratch another with a single swing of his broadsword.”
Now Einen chuckled, glancing at the startled Hadjar. Of course, it was strange to think that the two of them were the best of the… worst, but it was still a bit pleasant. Just like everyone else on the path of cultivation, the two friends weren’t devoid of feelings of vanity and pride.
“And even he,” the voice continued, “Paid Araz.”
“The sooner we pay, the sooner we’ll be able to earn Glory points.”
“Yep.”
“Let’s hurry before all of the most profitable orders are taken!”
Hadjar and Einen looked at each other. Jean had showed them the board of the so-called general requests. However, there were also orders, ones that someone had personally posted. So, Glory points were a unique currency for the whole school. If they could be taken away, they could also be exchanged.
The friends soon joined the crowd of thousands of ordinary disciples. All of them, covered in scars, wearing rumpled clothes, their hair unwashed and beards unshaven, were rushing to the Hall of Fame. If Glory points had a special symbol that denoted them, Hadjar had no doubt that it would be burning in the eyes of the savage disciples right now.
Compared to them, the fully-fledged disciples looked a little better. They were also running to the Hall of Fame. As for the inner circle and core disciples, they weren’t here. Did they have their own personal boards?
The closer they got to the Hall of Fame, the clearer it became how requests for strong monster materials were fulfilled.
“There’s a request for a Stone Lion at the Ancient level. It grants nine hundred Glory points! Who’s with me? I’ll take sixteen warriors!”
Almost ten times as many people rushed over to the man who was waving the parchment around. Fully-fledged disciples had priority, of course.
“A request for two hundred pounds of Dawn Grass! Five people! Two hundred points!”
“A request for the core of a Fire element beast at the Primordial level! Only for inner circle disciples! Three thousand points!”
Six people came out of the crowd. After talking to the guy who had obtained such a difficult request, they all started walking toward the school gates together.
“Let’s go,” Einen said.
They entered the hall side by side. Deciding to confirm their hunch about the exchange, they started with the Hall of Knowledge. There were far fewer people in there. Along with yesterday’s sheets, new ones had been added. These were the result of some disciples offering to give lectures to others for a certain fee. Usually, the fully-fledged disciples were offering to share knowledge with the ordinary disciples. So, this was how disciples with the silver medallions studied here. It was a common practice, even in Lidus.
Leaving the Hall of Knowledge, the friends cut through the crowd and made their way over to the stands with requests. They saw some bored fully-fledged disciples sitting at tables there. They were apparently being punished and forced to distribute maps of the surrounding area belonging to ‘The Holy Sky’ School.
“Two maps, please,” Einen said.
“Take them.” The disciple, who was about twenty-five, held out two scrolls.
“Thank you, senior disciple.”
These were the local rules: they had to call teachers Master or Mentor (a Master was ranked higher than a Mentor); they had to call other disciples of the same age or status disciple; a junior disciple if they had a lower status, and a senior disciple if they had a higher status.
They looked at their maps and let out disappointed sighs. The Forest of Shadows and the Valley of Swamps were the only two regions where the ordinary disciples were permitted to venture. However, the most valuable requests would require them to go to the remaining four regions — the Desert of Death, the Lake of Dreams, the Storm Mountain, and the Wastelands. The names were pathetic because of how hard they tried to sound cool, but Hadjar didn’t care. He almost snarled when he realized that everyone could visit all of these regions except for the wearers of the silver medallions. Once again, it was clear that the ordinary disciples were being used as servants. Ninety percent of the orders available to them revolved around gathering herbs or grasses, cutting down rare trees, mining ore, and so on.
They could also take orders from other higher-ranking disciples: being someone’s sparring partner (or rather, their punching bag), accompanying someone, and so on. These requests weren’t worth much.
“Well, where do we start?” Hadjar asked.
Before Einen could answer, the room suddenly grew very quiet. A young man in white robes was walking toward them, cutting through the crowd. On his chest was an emerald token and a patch with two crossed swords inside the hieroglyph.
A girl followed behind him. She had pale skin and long black hair pulled back into a tight braid. She was wearing a strange headdress made up of gold threads intertwined around two emerald disks. She was dressed in a black blouse and skirt. On her left shoulder, she had a metal shoulder pad. There was no doubt that this artifact could cover her entire body in impenetrable armor when she was in danger. There was no coat of arms on her bosom, only the token of an inner circle disciple.
“You will apologize to me, you wretch!” The boy snapped.
