Chương 23: Close Encounter of the Spiritkind

Barrier! Counterspell! Manipulate Winds! Dig Hole! It was no use. Jordan had no spells to his name, even if he were to have the mana to cast them. Three years of daily grinding went down the drain, as he could only watch the Garuda wreak more havoc on his world. But then… CANYON of AMBER LAKE cast: Copy Spell. Target: Howling Tempest. CANYON of AMBER LAKE cast: Howling Tempest. Two stormfronts met in the middle.

Well, not quite 'middle', considering Canyon had cast her mirror spell just a hair after the Garuda's original. It nevertheless did the job, canceling out the onrushing windstorm before it could reach the party. The ensuing shockwave sent Jordan tumbling onto his backside to the tune of: JORDAN YU lost: 16 HP. More pain and embarrassment. But also undeniable proof that he was still alive. Jordan quickly scrambled back to his feet, just in time to see: FOXHILL of SANDY QUARRY cast: Taunting Arrow.

The visual and sound effects were nearly identical to [Energy Arrow], save for the lightsaber being red rather than blue. Foxhill therefore channeled his inner Sith Lord as his [Arrow] pierced one of the Garuda's wings. GARUDA AKULA has been Taunted. Threat held by FOXHILL of SANDY QUARRY. The [Arrow] had gone clean through, but it'd left a red, angry mark. Not as angry as the Garuda's screech as she dive-bombed in Foxhill's direction. FOXHILL of SANDY QUARRY cast: Longstrider.

Two separate spells in rapid succession. A feat only possible by those with high Agility. As if the world needed more proof of Foxhill's devotion to Nezha the God of Dexterity. The Pathfinder evaded harm as his horse gained a sudden burst of speed. He then kept on galloping, leaving his customers and ruined carriage far behind as he zigged and zagged into the nearest thicket. The Garuda, still under the effects of [Taunting Arrow], followed from the air. Just like that, the storm passed. The road was quiet again.

Everything was a right mess, but Jordan was alive, alive, alive. Alive enough to immediately think of the welfare of another." We need to go after them," he said even as he paled at his own thought.

"Foxhill just put himself at risk to save both of us. We need to go after them and make sure he's alright!"" What you suggest is the surest way to let Foxhill's sacrifice go to waste." Canyon kept her tone calm, but there was an audible quiver at the word'sacrifice'. Jordan looked at her. Only then did he notice that both her headwrap and scarf were gone, blown away to gods knew where.

A shock of raven-black hair, presently adorned by loose twigs and leaves, framed a porcelain face as it fell past cloaked shoulders." You really think he's—?"" Stop asking questions with no answers. Instead, help me with this." Canyon walked over to the Heavenly Cauldron, currently tipped over on the side of the road. It took Jordan a second or two to realize what she intended." You don't mean—?"" Of course I do. If there's anything of value in this wreckage, it's your behemoth of a Vessel.

Now, come over here and help me carry it."" Of value? What about your calligraphy stuff? Your… chronicles. Aren't they worth salvaging?"" I can write them again." Canyon looked away as she answered quickly. Perhaps too quickly.

"S—some of them are already stored in my study back home, via the spell [Transmit Ink]." Jordan had to raise his eyebrows at that. Another spell new to the expansion, one with a surprisingly 'modern' function if he'd understood it correctly." Some but not all." He decided to stay on topic.

"I'm sorry, but I can't let you abandon your life's work. No more than you can let me abandon my Vessel." He didn't wait for an answer as he bent and picked up a loose sheet of paper, marred by dirt and partially torn from whipping about in the wind. He then picked up a second, a third, a fourth, waiting all the while for Canyon's cries of protest. The protest didn't come. Soon, the Chronicler herself joined her Gatekeeper companion in salvaging as much of her work as possible. In the end, it didn't amount to much.

A pile of paper to fill just one cloth bundle, as opposed to the several Canyon had departed with. The calligraphy set lay strewn on the ground, where she instructed Jordan to leave it, claiming there was more where it came from. Jordan didn't doubt it. He was also heartened to see the last sheet of paper Canyon slid into her bundle. It was the one he himself had written in last night, containing a couplet about an inedible sammich and the adorable man who ate it with a smile.

This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. In the course of collecting paper, the pair also came across Foxhill's horsehead fiddle. The thing was mostly—miraculously—intact, save for one of the strings having snapped. It seemed Canyon had been premature in her assessment of what was or wasn't 'of value'. She carefully lashed the fiddle—Foxhill's 'sweetheart'—onto her back, even as she cradled a bundle of chronicles in her arms."

Right," Jordan exclaimed, somehow feeling a lot better despite the circumstance.

"Now, about this cauldron…"" What's your Encumbrance?"" About 207 spare lbs. You?"" I doubt it would surprise you to learn that I haven't exactly been blessed by Zhurong. I can only carry 150 lbs at most."" Well, the cauldron weighs 496 lbs. So, even if we try to carry it together, we'll be way overencumbered."" Untenably so for the distance we must needs travel."" Don't you… have any spells to, I dunno, make the cauldron lighter or something?"

Jordan almost suggested casting [Howling Tempest] again, before banishing the thought with extreme prejudice. Canyon shook her head." No. And even if I did, I don't have the mana for it. I just depleted my VR with that cast of [Howling Tempest]."" Damn," was all Jordan could manage as the implications hit him. A pair of spell-less spellcasters, one out of mana and the other in permanent [Hoarding Mode]. How would they manage the rest of the journey on foot, still a day's ride out from their destination…

all while lugging 500 pounds of solid bronze between them? Well, there was naught to do but give it an earnest try. To that end, Jordan shared the trick he'd used when he'd first arrived in Stormvast.

"— so, I'll roll it on its side, and you act as our 'Pathfinder'. Look out for holes and slopes along the road. And I guess we could switch every once in a while, if you think you're up for it." Canyon flashed him a quick glare, as if to say: I'll show you 'up for it'. Out loud, she merely muttered, "Very well."" And you guys can help too, you know. I'd never say no to divine intervention."

"… Who are you talking to?" Canyon asked, frowning. To this, Jordan held an index finger to his lips and winked… though it came out more like a twitchy blink in his windswept state. Canyon stared at him, frown only deepening. Charisma DC 15: failure N üwa: "Whatever you meant by that abominable gesture, lordlet, I suggest you never try it again. We Stormvasters don't trust souls who can't keep their eyes straight when they talk." The last order of business was to figure out the direction of travel.

For this, the pair consulted [Rampart's Map]. Whatever powerful spell the legendary cartographer had cast once upon a time, it came in exceedingly handy for a pair of lost travelers 300 years later. In short, the scroll functioned almost like the world map in a video game. First, Jordan found the province of Featherift, a vast stretch of land that spanned the northern edges of the continent. There, he found a small arrowhead that corresponded to his own approximate location.

The arrowhead rotated as Jordan himself changed directions—highly intuitive for the 21st-century Earthling. Next, he traced a line to an 'icon' that looked like several buildings bunched up together, no doubt indicating the capital city. If he weren't mistaken, he could even see a faint smudge of ink drip from the arrowhead and in the city's direction. As if the map was telling him in no uncertain terms: that's where you should head next. Jordan shook his head. In awe and appreciation of Cartographer Horst Rampart.

Hats off, bro. Awesome UI, amazing QoL. 10/10." East from here as the crow flies," Canyon muttered, oblivious to Jordan's Steam review.

"It's hard to gauge distance, but assuming we'd been a day's ride out, I imagine it would take us double or triple that on foot, especially with—"" The cauldron. I agree. We better get a move on." The pair started on their way, but not before taking one last look at the northern sky—the direction Foxhill had led the Garuda toward. There was no sign of the storm incarnate making a return. Nor of a grinning man trotting into view on horseback." Be safe, brother," Jordan murmured under his breath.

"I ain't leaving Featherift without one more jam session with y'all." The road was long and predictably hard. Despite the extra point in [Strength] from [Zhurong's Blessing], rolling the cauldron was not much easier than it'd been on Day 1. Jordan became sore and fatigued within minutes. Only sheer force of will (and perhaps the discerning gaze of a pretty lass beside him) kept him going for hours onward. Canyon offered to switch on multiple occasions.

Jordan rebuffed her each time, claiming it was easier to just keep rolling. This wasn't misguided machismo on his part. His body really would have broken down if he allowed himself a break, never to recover again for the rest of the day. Strength DC 10: success Zhurong:"You're not wrong, manling. Do you feel the vital humors coursing through you? The moment you stop, all that would drain away and leave you spent and prostrate. I bid you ride the high while you still can. Respite can wait'til after you're dead!"'

Vital humors', no doubt, was the highly scientific label for the cortisol, adrenaline, and whatever-ine pumping through Jordan's blood with every strain of his muscles. In lieu of magic, Jordan would have to rely on the plain ol' wonders of the human body. Which, in some ways, was magical in its own right. However the day had started, Nezha had blessed them with fortune in the end. For the pair made it through the first leg of their journey unscathed and monster-free.

As night fell, they sought refuge in a small cave on the underside of a hill. They guzzled water from a nearby pond, uncaring of its muddy taste or murky appearance. They supped on days-old bread courtesy of Old Sar, stale yet plenty nourishing. Highland nights were as bitingly cold as the days could be scorching. The pair huddled for warmth by unspoken agreement, both far too exhausted to speak. Canyon spread out her cloak and wrapped the two of them therein.

Jordan folded up his janitor's overalls to be shared as a pillow. They both fell asleep almost instantly, but not before at least one of them received a system notification. Feat enhanced. [Zhurong's Blessing (Lv. 1) -> (Lv. 2)]: In recognition of your labor of the flesh, you've gained a permanent [2]-point upgrade to Strength. STR 14 -> 15 Encumbrance: 2. 7/210 -> 2. 7/225 lbs Seeing the upgrade to his Encumbrance, Jordan began to form an idea. Something deeply important.

Something that could make or break his Vesselia adventure. Before he could see the whole shape of the idea, however, he was out.