Genius Mage in a Cultivation World - Chapter 231: Southern plateou

The first city that Layn visited upon materializing again in this foreign time was the Warcamp.

It stood right at the entrance to one of the forbidden areas, where one had to put their life on their line to survive.

In the past, it stood guard at the passage, barring any kinds of demons, demonic beasts, and potential spies entry. Yet, as the monsters ceased to appear anywhere near the barrier, its role quickly changed, turning the formerly military site into a central point of the city.

With the passage of years, most of the people managed to forget what was the initial purpose of this place. Barracks turned into housing, weapon storage turned into warehouses, drilling plazas turned into open markets.

Yet due to Layn’s own actions, after ages of peace, the warcamp once again became the center of everyone’s attention, resuming the role that its founders created it for.

Unbeknownst to anyone, a pair of men in the strength of their years walked through the desolated area to the south of the camp.

Compared to relatively healthy lands to its north and east, the southern plateau, once brimming with life and people, was now nothing but a desolate desert.

It was so desolate that even sand was a rare sight on it, leaving anyone daring to traverse it with nothing but an endless sea of grey rocks and cobblestone.

Yet, the two men braved through this treacherous terrain without even a word of complaint.

“This place changed so little much,” Tytus muttered, shielding his eyes from the rays of the sun. He kept his head lowered, yet it was all for naught. Ages of wind polishing their edges turned the surface of the great majority of the stones into an impromptu mirror, turning this desert into a hot and bright place.

A place too hot for anything to grow, a place too sunny for any human to handle in the long term.

“It used to be beautiful,” Mukken commented offhandedly, keeping his eyes closed. Yet, despite not using his eyes, his step was firm and confident.

“Looking at the state it is right now, it’s pretty hard to believe,” Tytus commented, even if he wouldn’t find it in himself to doubt his master’s words.

In the short life that he had, he saw enough to understand that if Mukken spoke, only truth would flow out of his mouth.

“There used to be many tribes scattered around the plateau,” Mukken said, smiling gently to his memories of the world long gone. “The hill ahead of us, the one with step side to the right, used to be a mountain so magnificent, many of those tribes considered it to be holy,” he added.

‘Just what are you looking at, through the eyes of your memory?’ Tytus thought, a tingle of sadness filling his soul.

The day of his liberation was nearing. The day when he would once again be allowed to live a human life could be seen in the rising tensions of the ongoing conflict. Yet, despite his greatest desire appearing on the horizon after only Mukken knew how long, Tytus couldn’t help but feel regret.

Regret never being able to experience the sights that Mukken was now recalling.

“There were as many legends about that mountain as there were tribes,” Mukken continued his story, his step calm yet steady. “Yet, all of them converged on a single point,” he added as his steps suddenly ceased.

“What was it?” Tytus asked, his curiosity piqued by Mukken’s behavior.

It wasn’t often for this retreated man to speak so much and so openly.

“That this was the mountain where the history of this world began,” Mukked said, pulling a knife and running it across the palm of his right hand.

It had to be an extraordinary edge, as it cut the skin of this most powerful being on the entire damned planet with ease as if he was just a simple human.

“Watch,” Mukken ordered, finally opening his eyes. He then took a single step forward, kneeled down, and pressed his bloodied hand against the seemingly random stone at the foot of the hill.

The rise suddenly disappeared, as if it wasn’t there, to begin with. With its disappearance, Tytus could now see the bustling Warcamp in the distance.

“Huh?” the younger of the two men shrugged before straining his eyes a little.

The distance that would make it hard for a normal person to distinguish buildings was like a stretch of a hand for Tytus’s eyes.

‘They are already fighting? But why is the city?’ he asked himself, confused about the situation.

“That time-traveler left his allies all over the continent,” Mukken explained, perfectly aware of Tytus’s confusion. “They are trying to cut off the expeditionary force from their supplies,” he revealed the situation before pointing Tytus’s attention back to what was important.

A simple stone stood erected from the ground. It was perfectly circular at its base and grew almost three meters up to the sky.

Its surface was clear of any marking or signs of erosion. It was as if someone erected this strange statue just a moment earlier, with there being no time for the natural forces to leave their mark on it.

“What is this?” Tytus asked, moving his curious eyes at his master.

“The key to the barrier… Or rather, the key to the portal that connects this world to many others,” Mukked replied, raising his hand and placing it on the stone. “It’s a solid piece of work, a result of combined efforts of several civilizations,” he whispered as if himself in awe of this relatively simple stone.

“Wait, what?” Tytus flared up, more agitated than he was in the last few hundred years of his life. “What do you mean by that? A barrier is not a barrier?”

Even after years spent in the company of this strange being, Tytus couldn’t help but be surprised.

‘It feels like I’m touching on the greatest secrets of this world,’ he thought before swallowing a gulp of saliva.

This was his curse and a blessing at the same time. Only with Mukken could his endless curiosity be satisfied.

Yet, watching the old man cares the surface of the stone with almost a lustful expression on his head, he couldn’t help but shake his head.

‘I don’t know why, but it feels like this is one secret too much for me,’ he thought, clenching his teeth.

In front of Mukken and both his exploits and knowledge, Tytus, the second most powerful being alive on the planet, felt like a student staring in awe at his teacher.

“It could easily hold on for a few thousand more years,” Mukken muttered, too absorbed with the stone to care for Tytus’s mental plight.

‘Wasn’t the barrier erected by the gods? I knew that he had some part in it, but is this really just some sort of… alien mechanism?’

“Have you ever wondered why all the restricted zones lay at the deserts?” Mukken suddenly asked, retreating his hand and looking over at his servant.

“Once or twice,” Tytus reluctantly nodded his head when a sudden ray of enlightenment struck his mind, only to push him into the despair of a shock he couldn’t handle. “Don’t tell me…”

“No, most of them are not active anymore,” Mukken smiled in response. “But when it all begun, every restriction zone worked as a portal to another planet,” he said before his expression suddenly soured. “But I already said too much. At this point, I’m worried this will mark the end of my task,” he added, a gentle smile growing on his lips.

“What? Master, wait a second…” Tytus attempted to protest…

But it was too late.

A sudden bolt of lightning struck the old man directly at the tip of his head.

Initially shocked, Tytus quickly calmed himself down.

What could mere lightning do to his master? What could a bolt of electricity do to a man capable of smashing mountains with a fart?

“Resources properly allocated,” Mukken said in a strange voice, a voice that didn’t belong to Tytus old master at all.

It was similar… but stronger, more vital as if the burden of the endless years he spent in this world was suddenly lifted.

Mukken raised his head and looked straight into Tytus’s eyes. Then, a smile crept up on the old man’s lips.

“Those are quite some interesting flags that you raised, little one.”