Chapter 44: A Familiar Face

Port Academy was nearly a thousand miles from the nearest entrance to the Maya Mountains. Rowan, mounted on his donkey, sped toward the mountains and arrived at the entrance just before noon. This was thanks to the little black donkey, which had already grown into a level-four magical beast, greatly increasing its speed and making such rapid travel possible.

Upon arrival, Rowan noticed that the mountain pass was already bustling with people, gathering in groups of three or five. These were all temporary teams formed on the spot—for the Maya Mountains were perilous, and entering as a small group could significantly reduce the danger. Some of these teams were still attempting to recruit newcomers, hoping to bolster their numbers.

Rowan’s purpose in entering the Maya Mountains was to seek the relics and inheritance of ancient predecessors. Having more people around would only be a hindrance, so he had no intention of joining any team. As he was about to ride his donkey into the mountains alone, a familiar voice suddenly called out behind him: “Rowan, what brings you here?”

The voice was unmistakably familiar. Rowan turned quickly and saw a sturdy young man standing behind him, looking at him in surprise. “Master Menley, you’re here too?” Rowan dismounted in haste.

This was none other than Master Menley, also from the town of Borsan. In their youth, the two had often quarreled and fought. It wasn’t until two years ago, during the magic and martial test in Borsan, that they reconciled. In fact, the hundred gold coins required for Rowan’s second test were provided by Menley, who had yet to be repaid due to Rowan’s tight finances.

They had not seen each other in two years, and now, meeting so far from home at the edge of the Maya Mountains, both were understandably surprised.

“I’m a level-three warrior now,” Menley said, “and I came with two classmates from the Warrior Academy for some field training. Rowan, with your talent, you must be at least a level-two mage by now, right? Surely some high-level mages are accompanying you for your training?” Menley glanced around Rowan as he spoke.

Warriors cultivated battle energy in their lower dantian, while mages refined magical power in their middle dantian and spiritual power in their upper dantian. The cultivation of a mage was far more arduous than that of a warrior—especially the growth of spiritual power, which was exceedingly difficult. Menley, well aware of Rowan’s exceptional talent, boldly surmised that he had reached level-two mage by now, and assumed that higher-level mages must be protecting him on his journey.

In Menley’s mind, Rowan was surely a protégé of Port Academy, accompanied by elite mages for protection and training—explaining his presence here.

To his astonishment, Rowan shook his head. “No, Menley. I came on my own this time.”

“Heavens! You came to the dangerous Maya Mountains alone as a level-two mage? Rowan, as your fellow townsman, let me urge you to turn back while you can. Otherwise, venturing inside is certain death—a waste of your remarkable talent!” Menley pleaded earnestly.

Rowan was grateful for Menley’s concern, for he could see it was genuine. Yet Rowan’s tireless nights of training at the Academy were all in preparation for entering the Maya Mountains and seeking the ancient inheritance. Turning back was not an option. Seeing Menley’s anxiety, Rowan decided to be honest. “Menley, I’m already a level-three mage.”

Menley’s eyes widened in shock. “What? You’ve reached level three as a mage? I’m only a level-three warrior myself!”

At this moment, Menley was profoundly shaken. It had taken him two years of relentless training to become a level-three warrior, and yet Rowan, who followed the far more challenging path of a mage—ten times harder than that of a warrior—had already reached the same rank. He could scarcely believe it.

Menley’s eyes lit up. “Rowan, even though you’re a level-three mage, venturing into the perilous Maya Mountains alone is still too reckless. Why not join our team? We’re actually looking for a mage to join us.”

Rowan considered the proposal. It was his first time in the Maya Mountains, and joining a team with a familiar face could offer some security. He agreed.

Menley, delighted, led Rowan to a burly young man nearby. “Captain Bob, this is my good brother from my hometown, Rowan. He’s a mage from Port Academy, here for training as well, and he’s willing to join our team.”

Bob’s eyes brightened at the introduction. Smiling at Rowan, he said, “Port Academy mages are all elites. Brother Rowan, are you a level-four or level-five mage?”

“Sorry, I’m only a level-three mage,” Rowan replied truthfully.

At that moment, another member of their team, who had been searching for a mage teammate, returned. He had spent quite some time looking, but none of the mages he approached had agreed to join them. Already in a foul mood, when he heard that Rowan was merely a level-three mage, he sneered, “A level-three mage wants to join us? Not only will you be of no help, but you’ll drag us down. Captain Bob, we absolutely can’t take him!”

Even Menley began to have second thoughts. He’d been so stunned by Rowan’s achievement that he’d rushed to introduce him to the team without thinking it through. Now, considering it, Rowan’s rapid progress was impressive, but a level-three mage was still quite weak for the dangers of the Maya Mountains.

But Rowan was his guest, his countryman—and hearing his teammate speak so harshly, Menley grew indignant. “Landon, you talk about Rowan, but you’re only a level-three warrior yourself!”

As team leader, Bob said nothing, but he was displeased that Menley had brought in a mere level-three mage. As a level-four warrior, he had hoped to recruit a level-four or level-five mage, which would have made things easier and increased their chances of hunting low-level magical beasts for crystal cores. A level-three mage, in his eyes, wasn’t up to the task.

“Hmph. A level-three warrior is much stronger than a level-three mage in the Maya Mountains—our speed and defense are leagues ahead. Menley, he’s your countryman and you want to help him, that’s your business, but don’t let him be our burden!” Landon retorted.

Menley was furious. “You—!”

Just as he was about to say something sharp in his own defense, something remarkable happened. Wisps of violet lightning flickered across Rowan’s body, and in a flash, he appeared beside Landon, who hadn’t even had time to react. Rowan reached behind Landon’s back and drew the short blade he carried.

“Tsk, tsk. Fine blade—pity the wielder is somewhat lacking!”