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

The simple task of opening his eyes seemed like a herculean effort. Hadjar felt like he was walking down a narrow corridor that had a sticky floor and constantly shrinking walls. It wanted him to stay there forever, but he rushed toward the light he could see ahead. Once he'd reached it, he immediately tried to move his legs and felt great relief when he found out that they would obey him. The experience was so similar to waking up from an anesthetic that, for a moment, he'd thought that he was back in the hospital room. High Heavens be praised, he wasn't lying on white sheets, but on the hot sand of the Wastelands. There were no neon white lights above him, only the silvery glimmer of the stars. The air wasn't filled with the sterile scent of antiseptic, but the warmth of the wind.

The sound of crackling fire made him close his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again, he found that he could barely breathe. It wasn't that something was squeezing his c.h.e.s.t, he just didn't have much strength left in his body.

"Don't try to get up," someone told him.

Through the haze, Hadjar recognized Einen's silhouette. Having placed numerous flasks all around him, he was now smearing their contents on his wounds.

Hadjar looked at himself through the World River. He'd received minimal energy damage. The various training sessions he'd gone through over the past month and a half had certainly helped. If not for the Wolf Broth, the powder of the three-thousand-year-old fern, and the 'Path Through the Clouds' meditation Technique, he would've ended up a cripple at best. The way of interacting with one's Spirit that the orcs had taught him was so powerful that it would've burned out his energy body. Hell, he would've probably died outright.

On the other hand, he had suffered a lot of physical damage. No cultivator, no matter how strong they were, could survive a lot of blood loss or a wound to the heart. That was why there were Techniques for Strengthening the Body to go along with Meditation and Energy Body Techniques.

"How's-?"

"She's all right," Einen interrupted him and applied more of the foul smelling ointment. "She has pills for these kinds of emergencies, unlike you, you mad barbarian."

With great difficulty, Hadjar turned his head toward the fire. Dora and Tom, looking much better than before, were drinking something from wooden bowls. They blew on the contents to cool them down and took small sips. The brew emanated concentrated healing energy. If a mortal or a mere practitioner were to drink something so potent, their death would be inevitable.

Next to them sat Anise, shivering despite being wrapped up in a thick blanket. With trembling hands, she brought her bowl to her lips and sipped a richer concoction with an even more potent smell. Her energy body had suffered a lot more damage than his. Her main meridians had managed to recover, but the smaller ones resembled a spider web torn to shreds by the rain. They were even leaking little bits of the World River's power. The broth was slowly but surely restoring her energy and strength. Whatever herbs had been put in it were working wonders for her.

"I can't… give any… to you," she said to Hadjar, noticing him staring at her bowl.

"My aunt made the broth," Dora explained. "She gave some to all four of us but refused to make any for you because…"

Dora stopped short. The Dinos siblings didn't know about the fragment of the Enemy's soul that resided within Hadjar. Fortunately for him, everyone was too tired to press the elf for more details.

"What were those things?" Tom asked.

Hadjar let out a sigh of relief, glad to see that they'd changed the topic. The conversation could've taken a far more awkward turn.

"Remnants of the past," Einen explained. "Spirits that humans coaxed into serving them."

"Are you aware of how strong one has to be to force a Spirit into submission?" Dora almost dropped her bowl in shock.

"They also need very advanced and complex Techniques," Tom added, "I've never heard of Lascanian or Darnassian armies using such creatures."

"There were hundreds of them," Dora continued. "Or more…"

"Many more." Einen nodded.

"That's interesting…" Tom nodded, trying his best not to move his left arm as he drank. "No one's ever heard of these creatures roaming the Wastelands."

Hadjar nodded in agreement. If the golems had been wandering the ancient ruins all this time, someone would've come across them before today. Over the thousands of years 'The Holy Sky' School had existed, the Wastelands had been ravaged by countless cultivators. While searching for old tombs, they'd explored most of it, but no one had brought any information about the Spirits back to the School.

"Something woke them up." Hadjar g.r.o.a.n.e.d.

"Did it?" Tom drained his bowl in one gulp and tossed it into the fire. Any normal person would've smacked him for such an unnecessary display of wasteful arrogance. "It's probably because the Masters recently brought the key and the map here. Demons and gods! What other creatures will we encounter? Don't answer that! It was a rhetorical question!"

"Is the mighty junior heir of the Predatory Blades clan scared?"

Tom, surprisingly enough, didn't react to Dora's mockery. He'd somehow managed to reign in his volatile temper.

For a while, they just sat in silence. Each of them thought about what other obstacles they might encounter.

Lying on the sand, Hadjar stared at the stars, tormented by very bleak thoughts: if the key and the map had affected the Wastelands so much, what had happened to the Demon Gate?

"Damn it all to hell," he whispered.

Only Einen, who was sitting close to him, heard his cursing.

"Thank… you…" Anise suddenly said, still trembling. "I… owe… you…"