C14 Nine Raven Mountain

"Yes! Little brother, can you please be reasonable? We've leaped over here without any assistance from you, so why didn't you offer help when we reached the shore? Instead, you ambushed us with a cold arrow," Rupert stood up, unable to contain his anger at the person who had shot the arrow.

"Hold on, my name is Forest, not Fufu. I clearly saw you jumping from the Big Mouth Beast. I assumed some clown had the audacity to come here, so I shot the arrow. But I was alone on patrol and didn't realize you were the one who saved Mileson. Maybe you were after a ransom, I can't be sure. Right or wrong, it's up to the elders to decide! Now that you're here, let's go see the elders and talk it over. If I'm wrong, I'll apologize. If you're being unreasonable, you'll have to leave the mountain. But until then, I'm just doing my duty, so please, no shouting..."

Hearing this, Rupert realized he was dealing with a young teen, just a guard encountering a stranger and naturally reacting in defense. "Fair enough, then please, lead the way, kind sir! I'm willing to speak with your elders. Are we allowed to enter?"

"It's not 'You Floating,' it's Forest, like swimming, happy and fortunate. I don't blame you for not knowing how to read, but please get the pronunciation right. Follow me, but don't think it's going to be easy to get in..." Forest protested, though he seemed eager to help. He didn't seem like a bad person, and there was no need for him to have rescued Mileson to gain entry into Ofanlenor.

The mountain path was strewn with dry, cracked stones and boulders. They ascended using a peculiar method, without a moment's rest, timing their steps with the changing hours. It was all rather mysterious, as if someone had set up a puzzle.

Rupert, sharp as he was, noticed something odd about their path but refrained from commenting—it wasn't his place. Dodging the sun, there were countless ways to approach. "Little brother Forest, life here must be tough. There's no land to cultivate, and I see the remains of wild beasts. Without rice or exotic game, how do you manage to survive?"

Forest listened but chose his words carefully. "Please, big brother, watch what you say. This is a forbidden area! We're all practitioners here, accustomed to enduring hardships and leading simple lives as part of our spiritual journey. The residents of Ofanlenor are skilled in weaving and building homes; production isn't absent here. You may not be aware, but this mountain is known as the Mountain of Flames."

"There's also another name for it, 'Nine Dark Mountain,' derived from the legend of the archer Hou Yi shooting down nine suns from the high mountain, causing them to fall to this very spot. That's why nothing grows here. And it's not just this area—the mountain range extends for eight hundred miles, all bearing the same desolate scenery. If it weren't for the locals and the wildlife, most would get lost or perish from the intense heat. Terrifying, isn't it? Thankfully, fate seems to have its own plans, and following in my footsteps, you must be mindful of both time and place to navigate this land."

The trio had taken refuge in a natural stone cave for fifteen minutes, then quickly moved to the shelter of a dead tree to escape the sun's rays for about thirty minutes before cautiously emerging. Rupert followed suit, seeking cover wherever he could. "Why must you turn walking into a game of hide-and-seek? What's with all the zigzagging and hopping about? I'm too old for such games; it would be embarrassing."

Forest appeared skeptical. "Rupert, this isn't a game. There are natural hazards that we must dodge according to the ancient methods set by the guardian spirits. Failing to do so could end in a terrible death."

"Oh! So the guardian is quite formidable, then? Forest, you must be a devout follower of Esoteric Buddhism. Do you recognize these symbols?" Rupert produced a piece of paper from his bag and showed it to Forest.

"The script resembles that of our religious texts, but I'm not sure how to interpret it. We're nearing my village, where I'll introduce you to the elders. Just remember not to trespass or cause offense—if you do, I'm just a minor figure and won't be able to take responsibility for you." The village itself was an oddity, an oasis amidst desolation. How could a lush basin thrive here, so starkly contrasting the barren mountains that encircled it? Within, a tribe had constructed a settlement with wooden palisades, and it seemed they had established a checkpoint. At that moment, an unusual flurry of dust and sand swirled before the gate, adding to the sense of foreboding.

Outsiders are breaching our territory. We must go and support the defense immediately. How infuriating—I don't know how they slipped past me. I've been patrolling for ages, yet they've still managed to sneak in. We need to hurry and back up our forces..." The sound of the skirmish reached his ears, but he couldn't pinpoint the source of such brazen audacity. The scorching sun beat down on the earth, casting shadows from the towering rocks. A whirlwind of leaves and sand swirled around. About a dozen individuals were split into two factions, some clad in a mix of yellow and blue, their attire offering no clue to their identities. Brandishing swords and knives, they exuded an air of arrogance and aggression.

At the checkpoint, two formidable warriors stood guard, each wielding a staff. Nearby, a group of five was besieging a lone warrior, with two of their number already lying defeated on the ground. Forest, Mileson, and Rupert had reached the checkpoint, concerned, yet no sound came from within.

"Does Ofanlenor lack capable fighters that only three were sent out, and of such varied ages, representing three generations? Are they your trainers?" Rupert inquired. But then it dawned on him; he recognized the martial stances of these warriors from somewhere. After a moment's thought, it clicked—they were the same he had encountered in the Taiyuan Prefecture of Fristin. The fallen man was Xue Zian, an associate of theirs. Upon recognizing Xue Zian, Rupert rushed over, dragging him to safety and checking his breathing. There was still a chance to save him. Quickly, Rupert retrieved a bag, spilling out its medicinal contents and administering aid to the two injured men.

Meanwhile, the battle raged on. The lone warrior, skillfully wielding his staff, was holding his own against the five assailants, each armed with a variety of weapons, including swords and knives. But the tide was turning, and defeat loomed. One assailant's knife had narrowly missed its mark, slicing through the air just past the warrior's waist. However, a sword soon found its target, cutting across his chest and sending blood spraying. At that critical moment, another warrior stepped in from the left, his staff intercepting the blade with a clang that drew an irritated protest. "Kim, step back and rest. You've fought long enough. These opponents seem to be using a rotation strategy; even the strongest will tire eventually..."

The warrior appeared to take a momentary pause, as if assessing the situation before him. It seemed he was heading straight for them. Naturally, their arrival in this place was purposeful. They had no intention of engaging in a drawn-out battle, as clearing each stage in such a manner would consume an excessive amount of time. The relentless onslaught of five weapons continued, yet the warrior's martial prowess was evidently superior. He faced the surge of five assailants without a hint of concern. His staff was a blur of motion, expertly parrying a multitude of strikes. Moreover, his strikes were never futile; amidst the chaos, there was a sense of order in his defense.