Dragon Heart. Land Of Magic. LitRPG Wuxia Saga. Book 6

Hadjar pondered the Enemy's words till the early hours of the morning. Under normal circ.u.mstances, despite everything that Steppe Fang had told him, he wouldn't have believed the Enemy. He'd seen many fairy tales come to life, but there were still many of them that had remained mere tales. He couldn't guess the Enemy's motives, as he'd always wanted to destroy his soul and take over his body.

Learning a new Technique does sound tempting... Then again, it could be a trap...

Traves' Technique was outdated. He'd begun using it more as an added bit of support than as his main attack. More often than not, he relied on sword slashes created by the mysteries of the Weapon's Heart and the 'Black Wind' stance, which he'd created by examining the scroll he'd procured in 'The Black Gates' sect. Their Patriarch had probably gotten it from the other members of the 'Raven' sect. Hadjar was pretty sure that it would remain one of his strongest attacks for many years to come, as he still couldn't fully comprehend the depths of the attack's mysteries.

His own Technique had been created not by observing the ill.u.s.tration itself, but by studying his memory of it. Even now, he was unable to look at the image for longer than a couple of seconds. The level of Sword mysteries it contained was so high that looking at it for too long could end in one's death, even for strong swordsmen like Hadjar. Outside of Dahanatan's elite Schools, the Weapon's Heart level was considered to be something mythical. Even in 'The Holy Sky' School, not everyone could boast about mastering it. Even so, Hadjar couldn't stare too long at it. All he could do was study his memory of the scroll. Because of this, learning any Sword Technique higher than the Heaven level was tempting. The Enemy could be trying to use that, as he seemed to know everything about his descendant, and-

"What are you thinking about?"

Hadjar shuddered. They were on their way to the first landmark, though no one but him knew about it. Einen trusted his friend so much that he didn't ask him anything about it. The others simply followed Tom, who was leading them confidently in a direction that only he knew about.

"Nothing interesting," Hadjar answered evasively.

Azrea growled when Anise approached them. During the six months that Hadjar had spent in the capital, he'd spoken to the girl only once. A few months ago, Hadjar, Einen, and Dora had gone to hunt a Primeval Giant and he'd exchanged a few words with Anise then. He wondered how the former heiress had ended up being her brother's bodyguard. The Predatory Blades clan had its secrets, but he didn't really care enough to ask about it. He hated politics.

"All right." The girl tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear.

Looking at her, he felt strong emotions, the same kind he'd had for Eina, the first girl who hadn't recoiled at the sight of his crippled and freakish body. For years, Hadjar had been afraid to admit it to himself, but, now that he'd grown older and more m.a.t.u.r.e, he was ready to face the truth: he had loved Eina. As more than just a friend. And that was what he felt for Anise now. Because of this, he couldn't find the right words to talk to her. It had been different with Nehen. Their paths had crossed when they'd both been suffering from loneliness. Soon after, they'd went their separate ways. Probably forever.

"You-"

"I want-"

Interrupting each other, they fell silent. Hadjar wanted to facepalm. He was about thirty, and he couldn't even talk to a girl of seventeen. Although, in the world of cultivators, age was almost irrelevant.

"I want you to tell me about your adventures in Lascan," she suddenly said.

Feeling Hadjar tense up, Azrea growled, making Anise's horse snort nervously. Both of the riders leaned down at the same time to pat their mounts' necks. Their heads collided. Startled, they recoiled and looked at each other.

"Sorry!" They said in unison.

They fell silent again. Azrea rolled her eyes.

"How did you find out about Lascan?" Hadjar asked.

"Our clan has people in Darigon," she replied. "Einen asked me to send them your description."

Hadjar glanced at the islander, knowing that she was lying. Einen would've never entrusted his friend's safety to an outsider. The girl had most likely done so on her own. Given her current status as a servant, it couldn't have been easy.

"Also, the feathers in your hair were a dead giveaway," she said, glanced at him, and then went back to observing the landscape. "I remember from my history lessons that they serve as rank designations in the orc tribes. And they live on the borderlands of the Lascan Empire."

Hadjar touched the feathers in his hair. It hadn't occurred to him that they might give him away so easily.

"They healed me after the pirates destroyed 'Rukh's Wings', the military brig on which I traveled to Darigon."

He didn't want to lie to her, but he couldn't see another way out. The fight against the Dah'Khasses wasn't his secret to tell. He'd always considered it a dishonest act to reveal other people's secrets.

"Even Dahanatan has heard the rumors that the orc tribes have started to roam the steppes once again," Anise whispered. "And that something strange occurred in the remote mountains near the Stone Warriors."

Hadjar turned to her. She was staring at him with her piercing green eyes.

"Danger!" Tom shouted.

For the first time ever, Hadjar was thankful to hear Tom's voice.