Chương 22: Windy Road

As the carriage neared the provincial capital, the landscape changed accordingly. Salt flats gave way to hard, chalky soil. The grass gave rise to first low-lying shrubs then actual trees, with branches and leaves and everything. As it turned out, biodiversity was alive and well here in the highland steppes of Featherift. And along with trees came more places for critters to hide in. The carriage slowed accordingly, its driver no doubt taking the time to scan for potential danger.

Jordan thought nothing of it, until the carriage came to a complete stop. The stillness of the cabin now contrasted starkly with the restlessness outside. Whistling gales. Rattling wood. The highlands were already windy at the best of times, but this was on another level. Even foreigner Jordan had to assume that something unnatural was afoot. The door slid open on the windowed side. Strong winds blasted their way into the cabin, whipping Canyon's various coverings into a frenzy.

The woman used one hand to keep her headwrap in place and the other to hold onto her scarf. Her rectangle barely maintained its integrity." Got something to run by yous, Miss and Mister." Foxhill's tone was light, but the furrow in his brow betrayed the graveness of the situation.

"The winds have picked up, and in a way that's got me scratching my head. I've passed through these woods hundreds of times, but this is the first I've seen the trees bending and swaying every which way." As Foxhill said this, a large poplar leaf flew in and slapped his face. He peeled it off as he went on," I'm thinking there're two ways we can go about it. Push through and deal with whatever comes up. Might turn out to be nothing, though I highly doubt it. Or we can play it safe and go the long way around.

Will add some time to our estimates, but—"" How much time?" Jordan blurted, his journey being the most time-sensitive of the trio." Two days. Maybe three? Won't charge yous extra or nothing, mind. I do like fattening up my coffers but not as much as I like staying alive." Money was the furthest thing from Jordan's mind… though it perhaps shouldn't have been, considering his lack of it. He instead did some mental arithmetic, arriving at a rather unnerving conclusion." Two extra days…

that's cutting it close but still doable, right? I need to get to the city barracks by the, uh, hour of the Pig on the 30th day of—what was it—the month of Apricots. Now, I've since worked out that 'the hour of the Pig' means something like 9 pm. So if we hustle, we might—"" What do you think is the cause?" This from Canyon, calm despite the circumstance." Nothing I've ever come across, that's for damned sure. If I had to guess… I mean it's just a rumor, but—"" Garuda?"

Jordan blurted again, recalling one of the more unpleasant conversations he'd had in Stormvast.

"If that's what you mean, it's not just a rumor. In fact, it's the reason I've been conscripted. A general levy to deal with 'the Garuda problem', according to, er, my recruiter." Foxhill widened his eyes. A big reaction by his standard." Xihe protect me. If what you say is true, Mister, then I'm afraid I have to take the choice out of your hands. I'm not keen to test my luck with a spiritkind in the mix, that's for damned sure." Jordan nodded vigorously, in full agreement despite his hurry.

If the battle-tested slinger of [Energy Arrows] was so spooked by the prospect of riding into the wind, who was a complete outsider to argue? But then…" Are we certain that the Garuda means us any harm? In my experience, spiritkinds won't openly antagonize humans unless otherwise provoked." And where in Amber Lake did you gain that experience? Jordan wondered but didn't ask." This doesn't look'provoked' enough to you?" Foxhill looked around at all the dancing leaves.

"Besides, why would the Imperial Army be looking to sort out the Garuda 'problem' if it wasn't, you know, a problem?" At this, Canyon scoffed loudly.

"You look to the Imperial Army for an accurate measure of things? Don't you know that the Imperium routinely gets up to all kinds of non—" Canyon's impassioned speech cut off with a cough. A very deliberate one to Jordan's ears. That was perhaps the most emotion the woman had shown all trip. What was she about to say, and why did she stop herself?" Not here to argue politics with you, Miss Canyon, but we need a decision sooner rather than later. And as the Pathfinder in this here operation, I get the final say.

We're turning back and taking that detour." The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. Foxhill slammed the door shut as if to underscore his point. Canyon let go of her items of clothing and settled back in her seat, seemingly content to let the matter slide. Jordan was frankly relieved. He too valued staying alive, even if it meant disobeying an imperial decree and calling the Marshals on himself. The carriage turned around.

Rather awkwardly against the winds that whipped all about. It soon managed to straighten onto the road, back toward the thinner parts of the woods. Physically, not much changed for Jordan inside the cabin. Emotionally though, the backtracking was a little hard to take. He told himself to stay on an even keel. It was a long journey; something was bound to go wrong eventually. Though, perhaps, it didn't need to go wrong in quite so spectacular a fashion. A sudden and mighty gust.

Howling, roaring, rasping against the carriage's wooden panels. At the same time, snapping and cracking outside the cabin. Extreme winds threatening to rip the trees right from their roots. Followed by a thunderous crash. The very earth shook beneath the carriage as it was once more forced to a halt. Jordan couldn't see anything, but it didn't take a genius to figure it out. One or more of the trees must have fallen onto the road, blocking passage." Seven hells of Naraka!"

Foxhill swore, loudly enough to carry through the windstorm." Shit!" Jordan did his part as an Earthling. He turned to Canyon.

"What now? Should we get out and help?" The Chronicler already had her hand on the door, ready to do just that. But then…" Get out!" Canyon suddenly shouted, so forcefully as to blow open her scarf.

"Get as far away from the carriage as possible. Right now!" Jordan didn't need telling twice, all but crashing out of the cabin. The winds were unlike anything he'd ever experienced. Like trying to dash across a jet engine. Staggering, nearly falling over several times, he managed to stumble his way off the road. And not a moment too soon, for that was when the wind somehow became stronger. BOOM! A veritable explosion. The entire carriage splintered into wooden smithereens as a second gust blew right through it.

Jordan blinked furiously against the flying debris, even as he bellowed at the top of his lungs,"Foxhill!" At the same time, his panicked mind voiced a very different concern: my cauldron! Then came a heavy thud, together with a resonant'ggooonngg…!!' Yup, that was the Heavenly Cauldron hitting the ground, alright. Jordan had no way to check what state it was in, but at the very least, it hadn't been carried away by the wind. Somewhere, a horse neighed loudly, audibly frightened.

Jordan managed to open his eyes a crack and caught a face full of horse tail for his trouble. Foxhill was alive and well. Not only that, but he also appeared to be riding toward the source of the storm." Think we took too long making up our mind!" the Pathfinder yelled into the wind, somehow sounding almost jovial.

"Look!" Jordan did. First down to blink away the dirt in his eyes. Next side to side at the devastation all around. Then finally up to take in the most beauterrifying sight of his life. The woman, for that was what she was—muscular physique contoured by distinctive curves—was covered from head to toe in feathers. Seemingly every shade of green was on display upon her plumage, rendering her at once otherworldly and perfectly harmonious with the wooded landscape.

Her anatomy was more or less human, save for a beak instead of a nose and mouth, as well as legs ending in reverse-jointed talons. And upon her back spread a magnificent pair of wings, even now whipping up a storm and blotting out the sun. Jordan's first undercooked thought was that he might be looking at a harpy. Which had been the extent of his cultural knowledge of humanoid bird people. He soon snapped out of the misconception, however, shortly before his attention snapped onto a system label.

<Character Sheet> Name: GARUDA AKULA Race: Spiritkind Age: 55 Class: Aeromancer, Lv. 30 (Max) Vessel: The Turbulent Cauldron For a moment, it felt as though time had stopped. Jordan couldn't believe it. Not once since his reincarnation in Vesselia had he even entertained the notion. That there could be other cauldrons besides his. But then… why wouldn't there be? After all, hadn't Kaede Masuda the Earthling archaeologist spoken of nine tripod cauldrons that had gone missing from Qin-dynasty China?

After all, wasn't the Vesselia expansion titled THE CAULDRON WARS, the implication being that multiple cauldrons would be pitted against each other? Well, if that really were the case, Jordan was ready to throw in the towel. Because what hope did he have? Barely able to survive let alone transport his Vessel without extensive assistance. 0. 0000135% of the way until he could cast even a single spell. Meanwhile, this thing could level a whole forest in the space of two breaths. And there it was.

The Turbulent Cauldron. Faded bronze and ancient hieroglyphics, orbiting the Garuda as though it weighed nothing. And not just orbiting. It was also glowing pink. The tell-tale sign of… The Garuda opened her beak wide and shrieked. The shriek of anger and strife unremitting. The shriek to invoke a signature spell beyond human comprehension. GARUDA AKULA cast: Howling Tempest.