Chapter 13
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Atuel stared out the window of his carriage while his mother sat still asleep. The carriage they rode on now rumbled down the road of the city of Anworn. It was finally the day they would leave this cursed place and never return.

The smile on his face only got bigger as he imagined being able to buy soft bread and maybe even a piece of candy every once in a while. He blinked away the image, they had to make it first, his hands gripped the sheathed saber. Its grooves and engraved designs biting into his palm.

The thought of letting it out of his grasp had his heart beat and palms grow cold. He had been warned that the mercenaries were only guiding them, not protecting them. If a bandit crew dared to strike the entire group, no one would help if they were attacked.

He took a deep breath, calming himself down. Atuel forced himself to focus on the sounds of the world.

He could hear the shouts of a crowd around them, and beyond them many a merchant hawking their wares. It was the same sounds he was so familiar with, yet it was distant from who he was now.

But above them all was the perfectly in sequence marching of the soldiers. Three mercenary groups filtered out of the city in long lines, seven men shoulder to shoulder. They all wore matching armor and carried large spear like weapons.

Atuel could not help but gape with awe at how inspiring they looked as they moved lock step with each other. And even then, they were only a blip in what struck the masses like disease.

Anyone who saw the three ride at the head of cavalry would drop anything they did and simply stare. Full plate armor shining in the daylight making them look as though wings of holiness followed their every step, and decorated helms that matched the colors of the Mercenary army.

Yellow and green stood for the Wandering Geese.

The captain he had met was no longer the amicable leader he looked to be as he worked on paperwork, hunched over. No his back was straight and no one dared to approach, not even the other captains.

Deep inside Atuel, a grandiose image was slapped then carved into his mind. That man was by far the most glorious person he had ever seen. The sheer majesty it took to look the way he did, ride the way he did, order others the way he did.

Well, he could imagine himself doing the same things.

Maybe he could be a mercenary leader?

Atuel sighed. You had to be able to cultivate to be a mercenary captain, he learned a few days ago. He saw the man pick up a carriage filled with weapons and shields with a single hand to help the person under. A feat that had to mean he was a cultivator of great power, right?

His eyes drifted to the pack of ancient parchments that were next to him. He followed the author's instructions to the letter, but there was no improvement. There was nothing on the hole in his chest, and worse, nothing on what he was supposed to do until he ‘Became the Beast’. Whatever that was supposed to mean.

Was he supposed to transform into some monster? Or maybe into a goose? How was he supposed to fight if he had no claws or sharp teeth?

That was for the future him, if he ever got past this first hurdle. All the Qi he had gathered for months now, would disappear near instantly. He spent hours every day and night regardless of his body failing him on multiple occasions. Just like the first time, it would crash and he would lose consciousness within moments of stopping the flow of energy in his body.

He had tried to absorb energy from each part of his body, even trying to absorb from every inch of himself. That had him reeling in dizziness and nausea. The world felt like it had flipped three times and continued to spin. It was far too difficult to do, though it was getting a bit easier, not that it helped either.

Atuel checked his inner chest and still found it barren and empty. All that dizziness was for nothing. So, he did the most he could accomplish and kept it going, afraid of the after effects.

It had led to him being too terrified to stop, once even cultivating for two days, only his mothers intervention broke him out of the weird trance he had entered.

His stomach grumbled. Atuel groaned and held his stomach. To add onto his woes, he felt stuffed like a pig every day. Even when he had not eaten for a long time. He had to force down the little food they had because his mother had commanded it.

He would be a fool to not listen to his mothers advice.

It was just weird. Did he contract a disease? His skin and complexion was still the same. And he didn’t feel exhausted, even with the lack of solid food.

It had started a few days ago after his usual meditation, one moment, he was normal and the next something cracked inside of him. He didn’t feel anything but somehow heard it. He was unsure if anyone else could have even if they stood next to him.

Something happened and he didn't like it.

The mercenary armies began to move. It took a few hours but all the soldiers and baggage trains, including the many carriages that followed, made it out of the city.

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