By mid-morning, the caravan had ford up outside the outpost gates.
With a final salute to the disciples remaining behind and a formal bow toward Elder Wei’s tent, they departed.
The mont they crossed the boundary of the formation and re-entered the plateau’s wider trail, Han Yu let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.
’Away. Good.’
He didn’t even look back.
Their route curved westward again, following the rocky veins of the plateau until it t the winding roads that led down toward the Caldera-edge town—the sa one Han Yu had spent a month recovering in.
It would be a two-day journey at most. The caravan moved quickly now, no longer burdened by heat-maddened beasts or uncertain terrain. The guards were relaxed, chatting more openly. Even the rchant, Kuo, looked less anxious.
Han Yu took the opportunity to walk alongside one of the more talkative guards, a stout man with a sunburned neck and a perpetually amused smirk.
"So," Han Yu asked casually, adjusting the strap of his traveling pack, "after resupplying at the town, are we heading back to the stronghold at the Mist Shroud foothills?"
The guard glanced at him, then nodded. "Aye, that’s the plan. We’ll take the lower roads from there—less steep, safer for the ox beasts."
Han Yu smiled faintly. "I was thinking... if this caravan keeps running that route, maybe I could stay on and head with you."
The guard scratched his cheek, then shook his head.
"Wouldn’t count on that, brother. We’re handing the route off."
"Huh? Why?"
"Well," the guard said, shrugging, "this run was just temporary. They needed ergency supply lines while the outpost was being rebuilt. Now that it’s done and Elder Wei’s stationed there, they’re reorganizing. So other caravan crew’ll take over this line."
He spat off to the side.
"Our team’s heading back east—city called Wujin. It’s in Mist Eye territory, but far from the Caldera. Quieter place. Richer nobles. Less chance of getting set on fire."
Han Yu chuckled at that, but inwardly he processed the information quickly.
So this caravan wouldn’t be making the run to the Mist Eye Stronghold again. Which ant if he wanted to reach it, he’d need to either:
Attach himself to a different caravan,
Travel solo, or
Hitch a ride with another supply group.
He needed to think it through.
But first, he still had a chance to return to the edge-town and gather his hidden docunts and belongings—and more importantly, rest. The tension of the last few days had worn even him down.
The next day, by the ti the sun dipped low and painted the sky with hues of rust and copper, the familiar outline of the town ca into view. The people at the gates looked surprised at their return but not alard.
Another day, another caravan.
Han Yu stepped through the town gates once more, this ti with a lot more to think about—and a newfound respect for the power he’d seen unleashed.
’I’m not ready for Nascent Soul enemies,’ he thought. ’Not yet.’
The town bustled with renewed life as the caravan mbers scattered to rest and resupply after their grueling journey back from the outpost.
The air carried a mixture of scents—smoke from cooking fires, dust stirred by hurried footsteps, and the faint, ever-present tang of the caldera’s sulfurous smoke carried over by strong winds. Lanterns began to flicker on as twilight deepened, casting warm pools of light along the narrow streets.
Han Yu moved quietly through the crowd, careful not to draw attention. Though the town was relatively small and welcoming, he had learned to keep a low profile ever since his precarious arrival in this volatile region. His first task was clear: retrieve the belongings he had hidden earlier.
Just outside the town’s periter, near a rocky outcrop that jutted from the barren landscape, he had stashed a small bundle under a loose pile of rocks. The setting sun painted the sky in deep oranges and purples as he crouched down, brushing aside the rocks. The cool evening breeze tugged gently at his robes as he reached inside the hollow.
His fingers closed around the familiar oilcloth. Opening it, he carefully examined the contents—several worn scrolls, sect tokens, and the set of docunts he had painstakingly collected. The tokens were especially valuable; one marked him as a disciple of the Twin Leaf Peak Sect, while the others bore the insignia of the Mist Eye Sect.
Though they could betray him if discovered, they were his key to moving unseen among the sect’s forces. His own injuries had faded enough to conceal his identity visually, but the tokens offered proof of his affiliations should anyone inquire. Han Yu tucked everything back into his satchel and secured it firmly across his shoulder.
The town’s streets were alive with activity. Small shops and market stalls lined the roads, their owners shouting prices or haggling with custors. He drifted through the crowd, mindful to appear as just another traveler—curious but unremarkable.
Stopping at a modest apothecary, he purchased several rolls of fresh bandages, a handful of dried dicinal herbs, and a small vial of spirit-infused water. The vendor, an elderly man with a thick beard and watery eyes, barely looked at him, accustod to the constant flow of passersby.
From there, Han Yu made his way to the marketplace’s at stall. The sll of smoked and dried ats mingled with fresh vegetables and the ever-present dust. He selected so dried strips of beast at, knowing they would keep well on the road and provide much-needed nourishnt. Carefully wrapping the food in cloth, he placed it in his bag alongside his other supplies.
Despite his outward calm, his mind buzzed with questions. How would he proceed from here?
The Mist Eye Sect was clearly consolidating power in the region, and the outpost’s recent expansion hinted at larger plans.
The increased beast activity near the caldera, the scorch marks on the rocks, the reinforcent of formations—all pointed to a looming threat, or perhaps a secret the sect was desperate to guard.
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