Piled on the wagon were several monster corpses.
Large bodies. Scaled skin, dark green and mottled. Fangs jutting from slack jaws. Dried blood crusted on the wooden bed, and a sharp, metallic stench hit Kael's nose.
His stomach churned.
He took a step back without thinking. Distance. His heart hammered, not at the soldiers, but at the things on the cart.
They're real.
"Master Gofur has returned!"
"The island is safe for another week!"
Cheers erupted around him. Villagers shouted, some even bowed as the procession passed.
Kael swallowed hard.
Kael had read about monsters in novels. Seen them in games and movies. But reading and seeing were worlds apart.
These weren't pixels or ink on paper.
They were flesh and bone and dried blood. Real enough to smell. Real enough to kill.
And if monsters were real, then death here was real too.
His hand instinctively moved to his chest, as if checking one more time that he was still intact. Still breathing.
I need to get stronger. Fast.
The system panel flickered in his peripheral vision, then faded.
[Threat Assessment Updated: Entity Non-Hostile]
[Warning Cleared]
So that was it. The "high-level entity" had been Master Gofur.
Kael exhaled slowly. The system could detect power levels. That was… useful. And terrifying.
If it flagged Gofur as a threat, how much stronger were the real dangers on this island?
When the procession disappeared into the distance, the crowd slowly returned to normal. Kael released a long breath, realizing how quickly this world could shift from calm to lethal.
"I need to be more careful," he muttered.
He continued walking, surveying the village with heightened awareness. Within ten minutes, he'd mapped the rough layout. Small, but organized. Everyone seemed to know their role.
From snippets of conversation at stalls and simple taverns he passed, Kael caught recurring phrases.
Natural energy. Training. Cultivator.
The island was called Skyland... a landmass floating above the sky. And the name mentioned most often, always with reverence, was one man.
Lord Kunwu.
A high-level cultivator.
Kael clenched his fists slowly.
In this world, strength wasn't optional. It was a survival requirement.
He glanced once more toward the village center, then turned away. Building a factory inside village territory was a non-starter. Too many eyes. Too many rules. Too many people who might notice his magic system.
Kael walked out through the gate, following a dirt path heading north. The land here was more open. Green grass stretched wide, with hardened cart tracks carved into the earth. Occasionally, small groups of hunters or traders passed by with quick strides.
The midday wind felt dry.
His throat began to burn.
Kael swallowed. He had nothing... no food, no water, not even Mana Stones for transactions. Everything he'd owned was left behind with his old world.
"I need to move fast," he muttered.
The Qi Gathering reward from the mission was his only way out of this situation.
A few minutes later, a small camp came into view in the distance. One large tent stood in the center, surrounded by smaller tents and caravan wagons. The atmosphere was busy but brief, transactions made quickly, then groups departed.
Kael entered without being stopped.
His eyes settled on a simple wagon. In front of it stood an old, heavyset man with a friendly face but sharp eyes, the eyes of an experienced merchant.
"Boss," Kael greeted cautiously. "Do you accept barter?"
The old man's eyebrow lifted slightly. His gaze swept Kael from head to toe. Kael's clothes were clean, neat, and clearly not ordinary, though not flashy either.
"What do you want to trade?" he asked.
Kael reached into his pocket and pulled out a brown handkerchief. The fabric was smooth, simple, but clearly not cheap.
"This," he said. "How many Mana Stones?"
The old merchant examined Kael's handkerchief as if it were silk from the imperial court.
"This weave… such precision. Not a single misaligned thread," the merchant whispered, marveling.
Kael thought to himself, It's just mass-produced by factory machines, old man.
"Three Mana Stones. No more."
Kael kept his expression neutral, though his throat burned with thirst. He couldn't afford to look desperate.
"The weave is good," Kael said calmly, "but it's still just a handkerchief. You'll sell it for four, maybe five stones to the right buyer. Two stones plus provisions, that's fair profit for five minutes of your time."
The old merchant studied him for a long moment.
Then he grunted. "You've got a merchant's tongue, boy."
He retrieved two small glowing Mana Stones, a bundle of flatbread, and a medium-sized waterskin.
"Come back when you have more interesting goods."
"Thank you," Kael said, relief flooding through him.
He quickly walked away, opened the waterskin, and drank deeply.
Cold water flowed down his throat. Only after several gulps did he realize how dry and tense his body had been. The bread in his hand tasted far better than he'd imagined.
After this… I can't fail.
Kael left the camp. His destination was clear... the lake west of the village.
But first, he needed to think.
He walked along the open grassland, mind working through the variables.
I have food. I have currency. Now, I need a base of operations.
His eyes scanned the horizon. To the east lay the village... organized, but crowded. To the north, the merchant camp, temporary, exposed. To the west…
The lake.
Isolated. Quiet. No structures within sight.
The West Sector is quiet. Perfect for undetected development.
He adjusted his course, walking with purpose now. The land around him was open and safe. No monsters visible, just wind stirring the green grass. A few minutes later, the lake appeared, its water calm, reflecting the blue sky above the floating island.
About a hundred meters from the lake's edge, Kael stopped.
"Here," he muttered.