Chapter 21, in which the hero threatens the heavens with his loins.

* * *

The fall was terrifying. Unfortunately, Xing had used up almost all of his qi to save Almirakh both during labor and while trying to protect her from the huge wave. Therefore, all he had to do was just prepare for the impact and strengthen his body. To his genuine surprise, the speed of the fall only increased to a certain not-so-large limit, so when he collapsed like a sack of rice onto the ground and kicked up a cloud of sand, he wasn't even hurt.

The bitterness and resentment was something else entirely. Xing was weak. Not only was he unable to do anything about the sorcerer's technique that had sent him nowhere, but he had left Almirah alone with him. Understandably, the beatings, broken artifacts, and raging ocean made Sharif not care about the mermaid, but only this time. Xing needed to become much stronger, not only to increase his qi, not only to further refine his control but also to make his body stronger.

He lay on the hot sand and thought, going over the details of such a recent fight, and he was venomous with anger. If he had any idea of how to get back to the island he would have rushed without hesitation. But now, in addition to his lack of ideas, he lacked everything else, even his clothes. All that was left was his trusty flail and a bracelet made of a strange metal hidden under a layer of ordinary copper.

Xing closed his eyes and increased the circulation of qi in his upper dantian, thinking back to the brief fight. It wasn't to say he had done so badly, but he couldn't call it good either. He'd been lucky. It was lucky the sorcerer had been a weakling, that he hadn't struck while Xing was saving the girl's life, and that his rings had been so fragile and so easily broken. Yes, Xing had certainly inadvertently ruined the coveted spatial vault as well, but, at the same time, he had surely deprived the villain of a bunch of artifacts, or what did he call them? Musavars? And without that, the outcome of the battle could have gone either way.

He thought about spatial rings once more. Suddenly, the fight showed that a ring was not the best thing for creating this very, ha ha ha, musavar. Xing could fight with a flail, of course. He could fight with all the weapons he knew, but he also liked to swing his fists. Hands and feet are what a man always has with him, which means he will never be unarmed. And no matter how strong a ring was, it could be damaged by hitting, say, a rock, so something else was needed. Xing raised his hand and examined his bracelet thoughtfully. No matter how useless it was, it could easily survive a battle full of qi and hand-to-hand combat. Of course, unlike the spatial ring, the spatial bracelet sounded like nonsense, but Xing was still not strong enough to prevent the ring from breaking in the middle of a heated battle.

There was another problem that Xing felt literally with his ass right now. Clothing, or rather, the lack of it. All of his normal outfits, unlike the heroes' outfits, would quickly fall into disrepair in battle again. In the past, he had the skins of various demonic beasts and clothes held up much better. But alas, Xing had long since grown out of those clothes. The quiet life near Mogao had relaxed him too much, and on the island with Almirakh, he was doing anything but searching for strong beasts. The problem had to be solved urgently, and until Xing could gain real strength, he should only walk around in sturdy clothes.

The flames of qi that separated from the large cluster in the distance were getting closer. Xing knew that they were three men who didn't possess internal energy, they were riding on animals whose qi was similar to horse qi, but not all the way through

He didn't get up to meet them; he was lying down quite well. He absorbed the energy around him and ran it through his three dantians, quickly regenerating what he'd used up in the fight and rescue of Almirakh.

Only when someone's shadow covered the sun he reluctantly raise his head.

In front of him sat three riders on strange, humpbacked horses with thin legs, long crooked necks, and mock lips, all in plain white robes. On their heads, they wore motley shawls that fell over their shoulders and half covered their faces. The middle rider rode closer, dismounted, and revealed a bearded, tanned face.

"Who are you, oh great warrior, who threatens the heavens with your loins?" he asked

"A great warrior?" Xing was surprised.

"We saw you fall out of the sky!" explained the bearded man. "And a pampered brat of a desert gopher cannot survive a fall from such a height."

"My name is Xing Duo," Xing introduced himself, getting to his feet. "But Xing is better."

"Peace be upon you, Kasim! My name is Tariq Rakhman Qadir ibn Nasim. To meet a traveler in the desert is a gift from the heavens. And it was the heavens from which you fell that determined our meeting. Welcome to my home."

* * *

"Akhribad!" Tariq said the word as hatefully as if he were spitting poison. "The city of the despicable sons of Shaitan, the vile sorcerers, and their lowly minions! Don't go there, Kasim. You are a great warrior: as strong as a spiky desert lizard and as strong as a black camel. But sorcerers never fight fair. These Marid and Ifrit brats only cast vile and despicable spells! Do not go to Akhribad, Kasim, I beg you in the name of Shadur!"

Xing, sprawled on the cushions and sipping tart desert herb tea, replied:

"But I'm a sorcerer too! I have the qi... I mean, I have the sihir!"

Tariq threw back his head and laughed loudly. The other guests in his tent laughed, even his wives and daughters chuckled softly.

"You have a good sense of humor, Kasim," Tariq said with a laugh, wiping away his tears. "Where have you seen a sorcerer who has done something good for the people of the desert? Where have you seen a sorcerer or a mage or any other creature of the noon sun who didn't talk to others as if they were thorns under his camel's feet?"

"You gave us water!" added Yasir, one of the two riders who had been with Tariq when they first met. "You got it right out from under the sands. If you are a sorcerer, I am ready to call such a sorcerer my brother!"

It was easy to get water. Xing could not only sense it underground, but he could also see the spirits of water where it was closer to the surface. The only thing left to do was to create a well by combining Earth and Sand, transforming them into stone and glass. It took just over a hundred dozen heartbeats, and they thanked him as if he were one of the Twelve Gods.

"You gave me clothes," Xing objected. "You took me in, a suspicious naked stranger, a stranger and foreigner. You fed me and gave me shelter. How could I not thank you with such a trifle?"

"A trifle? Did you say trifle?" Tariq chuckled again. "Your jokes are as funny and good as ever! Kasim, for the people of the desert, water is more precious than gold and diamonds. It is life not only for men and women but also for camels and sheep! Clothes? Food? Shelter? You are a guest! May the stars and moons turn away from us, replaced by the scorching sun, if we ever fail to show proper hospitality."

"I would like to see a sorcerer," added Khalid, the third and youngest of the horsemen, "who not only knows how to fight like you but also how to make weapons like you! Not even the Emir has such a sword and dagger as you forged for me!"

Xing shrugged his shoulders, feeling like he was a cheater. Among the Badawi, few people possessed qi, so the result of the fun battle he had taken part in was predetermined in advance. No, Xing hadn't cheated: he hadn't strengthened his body or used his internal energy, but even without that, his years of training had paid off. He was simply faster, more skillful, and, of course, stronger. He'd even asked to use the forge partly because he wanted to make amends, even if these hospitable people saw no fault.

"But girls and women..." he began.

"Oh yes! You are mighty not only in battle, oh Kasim!" Tariq stroked his beard with satisfaction. "At night, they howled like a pack of hungry hyenas! And now, I hope they will bear healthy and strong children!"

"Children?" Xing interjected, blushing.

The endless nightly visits of the beauties, including both Tariq's daughters and wives, made Xing angry at first. For to share a bed with the wife or daughter of his host and to repay his hospitality with such blackest ingratitude would not have been dared by a complete scoundrel! But, as it turned out, the Badawi had their own customs. They valued new blood, especially the blood of strong warriors.

"Yes, children!" Tariq affirmed. "When my daughters are pregnant, and the suitors come running to them like camels to an oasis, I will demand a huge mekhir, the biggest in the whole desert! And believe me, they'll pay for it! Too bad, I wish I could give all my daughters for you!"

"I..." Xing hesitated, choosing his words.

"Leave it, Kasim! I realize how impossible this dream is. You're a warrior on your way to your goal. And no woman should stand in your way! You have honored our tribe and done us great honor, and I would be a despicable scorpion if I tried to bind you! But still, please don't go to Akhribad! No matter how great a warrior you are, all your skill is irrelevant. Sorcerers don't fight fair. They fight with black charms, poison, or a poisoned dagger behind their backs."

"I'm sorry, Tariq," Xing shook his head. "You're right. I'm going after my goal. My goal is far, high, and perhaps even unrealizable."

"As a real man should!" Yasir exclaimed. "Close goals and small pleasures are the lot of women and cowards!"

"Hardships and adversity only harden the body and will," Xing quoted.

"Ahhh! How well said!" Khalid shrieked. "Who is the wise man who uttered these great words?"

"His name was Han, son of Guang Nao," Xing replied honestly, beaming with smugness.

"A great man, this Khan al-Naw ibn Guang!" agreed Tariq. "Neither I, nor my tribe, nor these women will prevent you from achieving what you want! On the contrary! Eat and drink, Kasim. As soon as the sun sets, we will give you the best camel and lead you to the Black Sands. And beyond that, I'm sorry, no one knows the way! None of the bravest and strongest warriors have returned from there!"

Sobs, lamentations, and quiet weeping were heard from the women's side of the tent.

"Hush, you silly women!" Tariq was angry. "Death is a man's eternal companion! And only he who is as fearless as a desert storm can repel its scorching embrace! But you know what, Kasim? We'd better go to the Black Sands tomorrow!"

The crying stopped instantly, and a playful giggle erupted from the women's side.

* * *

The next night, they never went, nor did they go the night after. It took a dozen days, at the end of which Xing set out, accompanied by five horsemen. There was not a woman in the Tariq tribe young enough not to visit him at night. Pretty and ugly, slim and full, short and tall. Xing did not refuse any of them as a guest. During the day, he occasionally used the traveling forge to forge weapons, but the rest of the time, he talked. He told the Badawi men and women about qi, the ways of cultivation and development, about what he had learned over the years, comprehended through pain and sweat. And in Badawi, he found very diligent disciples. None of them had yet discovered the qi that was called rukh here, but Xing knew it was only a matter of time.

The Black Desert was not black at all. The dark gray sand was permeated by bright scarlet streams of something Xing scooped up with his palm and identified as very small, opaque crystals. Anyone would have distinguished the Black Sands from an ordinary desert, not by color. The already great desert heat was increasing here to the point where even the air was melting. What struck Xing the most was the emptiness. The bright patches of fire spirits, so abundant in the desert, were almost completely gone here, where the best place for them to dwell seemed to be, and only sparse flames were showing on the surface.

After bidding farewell to his companions and refusing to take his camel with him, Xing put his bags and burdens on his back, adjusted his flail and saber, and then set off.

It was very easy to walk across the desert, no matter how dreary it might be for an animal or a man. The sand, of course, tried to move out from under his feet, but Xing, who could walk even on water, had no trouble at all.

After he parted with the Badawi, he had a lot of time to think. No matter how much he pondered, Xing could not find a way to close the gaping hole in his abilities. Sorcerers could fly. They could soar through the air like birds, casting deadly spells that were beyond the reach of an honest warrior. Xing was a far cry from Bao Xiao. He did not possess the Thousand Peaks Leap technique. It required something else.

Wading through the sandstorm, covering his face with not only his qi but also his shemagh, he thought. Yes, he was good at jumping. He could jump high enough to reach Sharif, but even so, no one would call this sort of thing fighting in the air. Xing needed wings. Not some bird's wings behind his back, of course, but a way to conquer not just land or water but the air.

Trained birds flying above the clouds? A sword filled with qi on which Xing would cleave the heavens like heroes from crystals? Some kind of artifact? No, it's all wrong. Birds and swords are good for covering long distances, and artifacts, as the battle with Sharif showed, weren't the most reliable things. Besides, he was a warrior. He needed to move quickly and unpredictably to stun the enemy with an onslaught like Bao Xiao. The Thousand Peaks Leap was required. Alas, stepping on air did not work. The Air was not one of the Five Elements, so stepping on it, unlike water, did not work, as the streams of qi would simply fall through, unable to grab onto anything.

But if there was one thing Xing realized as he fell from the great height, it was that the air was not as empty as it seemed. The air was able to hold his body, preventing him from moving faster than a certain limit, accelerating to infinity. Looking back, Xing realized that this knowledge had always been with him. After all, it was the air that hindered him from running fast. It was the air that became an obstacle to be overcome, and to run really fast, he had to use his qi to push it apart. And if birds and insects who couldn't cultivate were able to fly, how could he, the future hero, be any worse?

Yes, he was busy searching for Akhribad. He had to move through this strange desert filled with twisted and distorted energy, but if he had anything right now, it was time. The next step Xing took came no longer on the sand but on the air. And, of course, it didn't work. His foot failed, and he stumbled, almost rolling on the barchan. Xing only grinned, so much it resembled his first attempts to master qi. He took the next unsuccessful step. And then another.

Time passed. Xing moved very slowly, only two or three times faster than a running camel, trying to master the new way of traveling. At the same time, he was cultivating qi, which was very bad in the desert, but the better training he got! During the day, he exposed his body to the sun, making it hardier and more resistant to fire, and during the insanely cold nights, he gathered moisture from the air, filling empty waterpots or creating a narrow well and bringing up water from the depths.

No matter how desolate and lifeless this place seemed, Xing would occasionally encounter the lights of the inhabitants. Insects, snakes, and lizards managed to survive even here. The same was true of the plants - the thorny, narrow-leaved bushes and grasses stretched their roots deep enough to reach the moisture lay there. It was almost like Duojia's time when he ate maggots and worms to survive.

Long after all supplies had run out, Xing ran, foraged for food, practiced, meditated, restored his qi during a short rest, and then continued on his way again. The journey went on and on, but Akhribad never showed up. And then the Black Sands ended, replaced by the usual desert full of life and qi. It was strange and incomprehensible, for he was running straight ahead, going nowhere. The hot air of the Black Sands was pure and clear. He could see for many miles around. Even when there was a sandstorm, Xing could still sense the surrounding qi and did not lose direction. To miss a small thing like a huge city standing on a mountain, he couldn't even if he wanted to. Therefore, Xing decided to do things differently. He traveled along the border of the Black Sands to get a glimpse of this place, to understand it not only with his mind but also with his heart.

It was much easier and faster to walk along the border. The constant training was paying off. Xing glided, barely touching the ground, his qi pushing the wind around him. And the journey until he had made a full circle, back to where he had started, took a little over a dozen days. Xing frowned and increased the circulation of qi in his upper dantian, deep in thought. He estimated that no matter how huge the Black Sands were they were not big enough to hide not just the city but also the "mountain whose black cliffs were full of unholy fire". One might have thought that, just as Sharif had placed the island in the "aalam mastur," that is in the "secret world." So the sorcerers of Akhribad had cut off the city from the desert. Except some things didn't add up. As he traveled, he didn't feel that strange twisted qi, and the places where Xing had first entered the Black Sands and the one from which he had left were too close to each other, as if he had simply turned aside at some point.

He had an idea of how to test this theory, even if it wasn't originally his. Xingg transformed qi into the element of Earth and pushed apart the excess sand until he reached a solid rocky base. Placing his palms on the rock, Xing released a stream of qi, commanding it not to spread out in space but to stick together. The qi was so abundant that the ground glowed with a bright green light. Of course, no matter how strong the stone was, it could not withstand such pressure and immediately began to crumble. But that didn't matter for Xing's purposes.

He turned his back on what the sailors in Shell called "the beacon" and ran straight into the center of the Black Sands, feeling his qi in the "beacon" as clearly as if it were still in his body.

When the desert ended, he emerged, of course, not where he had intended. After reorienting himself and figuring out exactly where he was, Xing set up a new "beacon," determined to repeat this until he found an area where even his trained senses were failing. Xing knew from his familiar Captains Tai and Zenzhon that three points were required to plot a course, but he hadn't gotten into the details. As it soon turned out, there was no need for a third point.

The two beacons were very distinct, and Xing could easily determine the direction from any distance. Therefore, the moment when the beacons abruptly moved away, he recognized it immediately. Xing tried to change direction, moving toward the invisible area, but he was once again drawn away.

Xing laughed out loud. Even though he didn't know how to get in, it was now just a matter of skill and effort.

"Hello, Sharif!" Xing continued to smirk. "Don't forget to have all your rings and scrolls ready!"

The invisible barrier, of course, did not respond. Xing didn't expect it to, though.

Knowing that an obstacle existed and being able to hold the right direction helped him overcome it in just a few hours of continuous attempts. In the end, Xing released his qi, "clung" to the space around him, and without relying on sight or senses, pushed himself to the place where his energy was bumping into an invisible wall. And with not too much resistance, as if he was wading through thick swamp silt, Xing pushed himself through the barrier.

"It reminds me of something," he frowned at the sight of the wall of sand swirl covering the entire sky.

He wrapped the shemagh again, protecting his face not only with qi but also with cloth, and rushed forward.

The feeling of recognition came with renewed force. He felt his body clench and stretch, twist and break, as if he were again, floating on a turtle shell, making his way to the island where he'd found Almirakh. But this time, he was not only ready but much stronger. He had covered not only his body with qi armor but also his clothes, protecting his sacks and bags. Even though the protective barrier here was much deadlier, Xing came out victorious with absolutely no heroic accomplishments.

He defied the invisible force that tried to drag him through the ridges of sharp volcanic glass, fended off the pesky storm that tried to blow off his clothes and skin, and took a dozen lightning bolts to his body, not allowing them to flow uselessly through his defenses into the ground, but instead absorbing their chi and channeling it through his dantians.

The energy level here was so high that Xing felt some regret as he left the barrier. If he hadn't been in a hurry, this would have been a great place to train, and it would have been a good place to stay for a few months or even a year.

But he was driven by purpose, so he rushed forward with determination. Soon, the storm was over. It was gone as if it had been cut off by a sword. Xing jogged forward a bit and looked back. As it turned out, the deadly wall was not only a sharp drop, but also not very high only a couple dozen human heights. And if he could fly, as a true hero should, it wouldn't be too difficult to cross it.

Xing sighed and waved his hand. It was to correct his faults and weaknesses that he had come here. He took a step forward to where, in the middle of the black desert sand, a huge mountain whose peak was hidden in the dense clouds rose upwards. It was an unnatural, alien sight for this area. But the mountain itself seemed no less alien. Its steep slopes. Instead of black, lifeless stones were covered with dense forests, with occasional patches of colorful cultivated fields. And one of the mighty ledges was crowned by powerful walls, behind which tall white towers pierced the sky. A thin thread of road led through the cliffs, fields, and forests to the city.

Xing has found him. He found Akhribad, the city of wizards and sorcery. The city through which not only this road ran but also the path to his dream.

* * *

Black walls and gates that seemed to absorb the light itself. A deep cliff with clouds swirling below and a drawbridge that seemed so thin and unreliable. Two figures of giant black lions perched on either side of the gate, their polished stone sides gleaming in the sun. Rare travelers entering and exiting through the gate and even rarer wagons. Xing watched Akhribad for a long time as if trying to understand all its mysteries from here in the forest. Alas, whatever was going on in the city remained inside, cut off by the walls that created an invisible dome through which not even the qi gaze could penetrate.

Somewhere at the top, as if in the heart of the mountain, a dazzling energy was blazing and flowing inward. It was the strongest fire-flavored qi he had ever encountered in his life. Cows and sheep were grazing on the grasslands, but for some reason, there were no large beasts in the forests, a mystery Xing planned to solve later. Somewhere in the sky, a giant bird would occasionally fly by, and Xing immediately imagined a small human figure on its back every time he saw it. In this vision, the figure had snow-white robes. Almost the same as the ones he was wearing now, only made of silk. The hair, of course, is much longer. Up to his waist so that it waved beautifully in the wind. And, of course, a flail, which he would not part with, even when he caught this bird, and then with the help of Duojia's secret methods, he would make it obey and carry it on his back, cutting through the wind and the sky!

Xing didn't know what this bird ate, but he was sure that it ate a lot, which meant that he had to make sure to stock up on food, which meant, once again, going to Akhribad for the spatial ring.

After some thought, he decided to go straight to the gate, choosing a time when it would be less crowded and preferably not even a single living soul. It was afternoon when the scorching sun was at its zenith.

If Xing had been in the Empire, he would have tried to slip through, sneak in secretly, and blend in with the crowd, so as not to be seen by possible enemies. But here, he was still a stranger, distinguished not only by his clothes but also by his facial features. Although it seemed reckless at first glance, if there was one thing he was sure of, it was his mastery of Duojia's two secret techniques, the Weighty Kicks and the Rapidly Sparkling Heels.

The gates of the city beckoned hospitably with their flaps open, so Xing stepped onto the folding bridge and moved forward confidently.

"What brings you to Akhribad, stranger?" came a rumbling voice.

The stone lions standing near the gate had leaped forward and were now blocking the way, spreading their wide wings. Their black stone eyes now shone with a bright light reminiscent of well-blown coals in a forge.

A flying stone lion! Even better than that bird! Xing mentally marveled as he immediately pictured himself riding one under the clouds and fighting Sharif. No, he'd beat Sharif anyway, so he'd rather fight the rogue master in front of the Emperor and the people of the Capital!

He gave his face both a dumbfounded and delighted expression, and it didn't even take much pretense.

"I was threshing the rice crop," he showed the tip of his trusty flail, "and then a whirlwind came! I ran to the house, and the whirlwind blew it away! Then the house hit a rock, and I was thrown into the sand! And the dog! My sweet doggy's gone! So I'm not in the Empire anymore?"

"You are in Akhribad, the city of the Lords!" roared the second lion. "No outsiders are allowed here!"

"But I really, really need to!" Xing said, taking a step forward.

The lions crouched down on their paws and roared quietly. Xing concentrated, trying to feel the energy flowing inside the lions. The qi flowing in their bodies was similar to the energy in Sharif's puppets. But if he could easily deal with them, because he did not have to think about the consequences, the idea of crushing the guards of the city where he wanted to stay for a long time with a flail did not seem to be the best idea.

"Go away, stranger!" exploded the lion. "You don't belong here!"

"But it's scary around here, the desert, storms, and lightning!" Xing fake shuddered, feeling rather foolish because his already poor acting skills had to be demonstrated not by people but by stupid puppets.

"Go away, stranger!" roared the second lion.

Xing sighed. He should have gone over the wall, of course, but he didn't know all the properties of the barrier above the city, so he couldn't say whether he could slip through unnoticed or whether it would raise a general alarm. However, he didn't discard that option. He just postponed it for later. In the meantime, Xing reached for the lions' qi, sensing the energy in the crystals hidden beneath the layer of stone, and then dragged it sharply toward him.

The lions' eyes dimmed a little. Their movements slowed, and the guards became lifeless statues. He shrugged his shoulders, squeezed between the spread wings, and walked calmly through the gate. Xing, who had planned to get one of these lions, was a little disappointed. The mages seemed to have been too economical with materials and enchantments to create something strong enough to fly on without falling apart in a random gust of wind.

He passed through a long stone gatehouse archway reminiscent of a narrow cave and stopped abruptly.

"Wow!" It came out of his mouth out of spite.

The mouth opened again as if by itself. Xing realized he was standing there looking like a foolish peasant who had come to the capital for the first time, but he could not help himself. Akhribad, which seemed so gloomy on the outside, was very bright and colorful on the inside, full of tall buildings and green trees. Despite the emptiness of the outside, the inside was bustling with people.

Not approaching the gate, as if poison or a curse awaited them, the inhabitants walked along the street adjoining the square, carrying something or rolling it in carts, shouting at each other, trying to sell, buy, or steal something. Xing, who tried to join the crowd, was pushed, stepped on, robbed twice, offered to buy sheep, jewelry, the most accurate map of the famous Magr treasure, ripe dates, clean water, "charms like the real thing," and a seal he did not understand the purpose of.

There was a loud sound like a gong. The noise instantly died down. The crowd froze and hurriedly parted to allow the five guards to pass, who were mounted on animated statues that looked like two-legged wingless birds with female faces.

"The enemy is closing in on Akhribad!"

"The guard stone has been destroyed!"

"Somebody's infiltrated the city!"

Xing hid his qi even more tightly and moved toward the crowd, determined to blend in. Alas, it did not work. The white robes of the Badawi, though flecked with the dust of travel, made him stand out like a gold coin in a purse of copper. The crowd parted as he approached, so he shrugged his shoulders and strode forward toward the guards.

"Stop!" the commander at the largest statue shouted. "Who are you? What are you doing here?"

"My name is Kasim!" Xing replied. "And I don't know where this "here" is!"

"You have the face of a foreigner!" One of the men jabbed his spear at him accusingly. "Did you destroy the stone?"

"A stone?" Xing wondered, not understanding what he was talking about. "A foreigner? To me, you are all foreigners."

"How did you get here, stranger?" the commander asked menacingly. "Who are you?"

"I'm just a simple guy from the village," Xing replied, showing off his flail again. "I don't know! I was at home at first, and then this sorcerer appeared, and I was here."

"Sorcerer? Follow us, stranger," the commander ordered. "The Lords should deal with such a one!"

Xing shrugged and followed the commander. Two riders flanked him, and two more closed the procession, pointing their spears at his back.

He walked on, looking around at the buildings and streets, smiling inwardly at the sight of the townspeople moving out of the way as quickly as if by some technique or enchantment. Finally, Xing and the guards reached a massive building made of gray stone boulders, in which all the small windows appeared to be covered with thick metal bars. Xing checked the building's qi, ensured he could get out without difficulty, and obeyed the order to go inside.

Xing expected to be taken to a prison cell, which was how heroes were often treated in the scrolls and crystals. A bandit mob would attack him. He beat them all up, then got out and escaped, gathering information about the city before doing so.

None of this happened. Xing was taken from his flail, burdens, and bags, and led into a large room with wood-paneled walls. There was a massive stone chair against one such wall, a comfortable couch, and a couple of armchairs against another. In the middle of the room was a pedestal with a glass ball in which Xing could feel the thin streams of qi.

"Sit down!" The commander ordered, pointing to a stone chair. "When the Lords come, stay seated! Don't bow, bow down, or make sudden movements. You will die immediately. Don't talk to them, only answer their questions. Do you understand me?"

"Who are the Lords?" Xing asked.

"Did you understand what I said, you fool?" repeated the commander.

"Sit on the chair, don't jump up, don't wave my arms," Xing repeated. "And answer the questions honestly!"

"You can lie," the commander chuckled, "but I would strongly advise against it."

He left the room, leaving Xing alone. He began to study the artifact, watching the cycles of people in the building and walking through the streets. The door soon opened, revealing two men dressed in lavish robes. They wore hats almost identical to Sharif's but smaller.

"Who are you?" Without any preamble, the first sorcerer asked, sitting down in a chair. The second sorcerer sat down on the couch.

"My name is Kasim!" Xing replied.

Thin, almost imperceptible streams of qi emanating from the sphere in the center reached out to his body, trying to penetrate it. In some ways, they resembled the Almirakh technique that allowed them to communicate, only much coarser. Driven by curiosity, Xing didn't block them but let them do their thing.

The sphere suddenly glowed with red light, and immediately, multiple bolts of lightning struck Xing's body from the chair. They didn't cause any harm, but Xing didn't know what to do. Should he shake as if in a seizure or fall to the floor? Remembering the words of the commander of the guards, he decided to stay where he was, only wheezing loudly. As it turned out, he did the right thing.

"The lower creatures are always the same," the mage said sadly as if lamenting the injustice of the world. "Always trying to lie and twist like dung worms!"

"This one seems stronger," the other sorcerer said, looking at Xing with approval. "He didn't even throw up. I hate it when they do that."

"And every time you burn them to the ground with the vomit," the first one threw a judgmental glance. "And that's where the interrogations always end."

"At least you don't have to waste a lot of time," the other retorted. "Besides, what interesting things can an animal like that tell you?"

"You may be right," agreed the first, "but still, we have the responsibilities of the Circle. Hey, you awake? Don't try to lie anymore. You may survive the second time, but even the strongest of hearts stops on the third."

"You'd better lie again," the second sorcerer advised, and both looked at each other and chuckled.

"But it's true," Xing wheezed, showing how weak and helpless he was. "My name is Xing, but everyone calls me Kasim. It's easier for them to pronounce."

The streams of qi flowed once again, but the sphere continued to glow with a soft blue radiance.

"The wretch speaks the truth," the first sorcerer said with boundless surprise in his voice. "Where are you from?"

"From the village!" Xing replied honestly. "But I'm not some peasant! I'm a blacksmith's apprentice!"

"Where is your village?" The sorcerer insisted in an unimpressed voice.

"By the mountain! We call it "the high mountain"! And on the other side is a forest with a swamp, we call it the "boggy swamp"! And a hill! We call it "crooked hill!"

The sphere continued to burn blue, showing that Xing was telling the real truth.

"Leave it!" said the other sorcerer to his comrade. "They're all dumber than sheep. We're wasting our time! Let me just burn it and go home."

"Don't be hasty, Malik," the first man raised his hand. "The guards reported that you mentioned one of the Lords. Tell me about your meeting!"

"He was flying in the sky!" Xing began his story. "Spewed fire from his staff! Destroyed my house!"

"Name! What's his name!" The first one shouted, scrutinizing the sphere as if trying to see if he could see a grain of a lie.

"He said his name was Sharif, and he was the greatest magician in Akhribad! Then he said some strange words, and I found myself here!"

By 'here', Xing carefully meant the entire desert, instead of the mountain and city within it, and the artifact seemed to agree with his words as it didn't change color.

"The greatest sorcerer of all, sure!" spat the second sorcerer. "He would have been if he had been a worthy Lord, he had stayed in Akhribad instead of traveling abroad and dealing with such lowlifes!"

"But Sharif is strong," the first mage sieged the second. "So you shouldn't talk down to him, especially in front of witnesses."

"You're not talking about him, are you?" The other one chuckled, pointing at Xing. "His miserable existence wasn't a problem."

Xing clenched himself, ready to fight. He probed the two mages: their qi, like Sharif's, was concentrated in the center of their foreheads, near where his upper dantian was. The two mages were weaker than Sharif and posed no serious threat. Xing would have killed both of them, escaped through the wall, and then lost himself in the streets, stunned and stripped some of the inhabitants. But he decided not to start first, to wait a while.

"It's not necessary," the first sorcerer shook his head. "We've learned the most important things, so we can go."

"Maybe this worm is lying."

"Lying so skillfully to deceive the inquiring musavar? Or do you want to talk to him a little more and learn all his secrets and mysteries? Do you want to get your hands on his dirty bags and peasant gadgets? Or maybe find out where he hides his untold treasures?"

The mages looked at each other and burst out laughing.

"Hey, you lowlife!" said the first sorcerer. "You told the truth, and you will be rewarded. That does sound like Sharif. Bringing a barbarian to Ahribad and breaking a guard stone is not the loudest of his antics, and not even in the top ten of the loudest! So we grant you the opportunity to leave unharmed and even take your miserable belongings!"

"Oh, great Lords," Xing cried out, ignoring the guard commander's advice not to speak first, "but I've never been here before, and I don't know anything! Where do I go?"

"Let me burn him!" The second sorcerer grinned.

"Leave it, Malik!" The first one smiled. "Do you want our insignificant little Kasim to get off so lightly? Or do you think he'll survive the night?"

Laughing as if at some funny joke, the mages left the room.

* * *

Aлhribad lived, traded, and breathed magic Xing didn't understand. He didn't understand it yet, but with his Qi vision, he could see the swirls and flows of energy around him, so he would figure it out sooner or later. He walked the streets, looked into gardens, studied the city, and overheard conversations. Trying to figure out what was going on here and where to go - just as he had in the early days of leaving Duojia. For the first time in a long time, he didn't have a clear goal, nor was he led by a chain of circumstances and chance encounters.

Xing's main problem was that he didn't have the slightest idea of the city and its customs. The second problem stemmed from the first. The townspeople squinted at his hands and either spoke hostilely or walked away as if he were a beggar covered in sores, sometimes even covering him with profanity. Xing guessed the reason for this behavior quickly. Every person he met, except for the children, had an intricate tattoo on the back of one of their hands, filled with the subtle qi flows inherent in the local magic.

Or maybe it was also because Xing was a stranger and didn't look like any of the locals in clothes or face. This was also a problem that needed to be dealt with. The easiest way was probably to make the right acquaintances, but it was the general alienation that hindered them.

Surprisingly, the city patrols, moving either on foot or on similarly bipedal statues, didn't react to the appearance and lack of tattoo, though they didn't engage in conversation either, looking at Xing as if he were nothing.

He didn't mind much - he had a supply of lizard and snake meat dried with qi, and water was available both in waterpots and in street wells, and in case of emergency, it could always be drawn from the air. Xing spent the rest of the day exploring the city.

The center of the city was occupied by the wealthy quarters, and on the outskirts, closer to the walls, were the poorer houses, but Xing didn't see any paupers or beggars. Some of the houses were empty and intact, so there was no problem with staying overnight.

But Xing wasn't going to spend the night on the streets or in abandoned houses. At the moment, it was more important to find a companion, someone from among the locals, someone he could question well with a drink. He had money. Copper, silver, and even gold: all of Xing's objections passed Tarik's ears, who simply stated that any of the swords or daggers Xing had made were worth much more and that the knowledge he had given to the Badawi was measurable in money at all.

Only here, an unexpected trouble awaited him. In Akhribad ordinary money did not work, and none of the innkeepers was interested even in gold.

"Pay real money or get out," said the haughty man with the curled beard, echoing the words of his fellows with slight variations. "Or better yet, just go away, stranger!"

Xing could hardly resist the intention of paying the innkeeper with Duojia's favorite money, i.e. a full-fledged punch. He was already on the lookout of the guards, so he didn't want to burden his life.

"I can work," Xing offered. "I'm an excellent cook. I can forge iron and cure diseases."

"Then cure your poverty!" The bearded man laughed and slammed the door in Xing's face.

Xing spat, released his wrists once more from the wide sleeves of the taub that concealed the lack of markings, turned, and headed away.

The evening was coming. The lanterns above the main streets were lit by themselves, small clots of qi hanging from ropes strung between the houses. But despite the illumination, the streets were rapidly emptying, and the late travelers scattered to their homes, pulling up the hem of their robes and forgetting any dignity. Xing was not so much surprised as pleased. This way, he could get to know the city even better without attracting too much attention. So he ran, winding his way through the streets to avoid encountering a patrol of guards or the occasional passerby.

I'll probably be mistaken for some kind of ghost! He thought with a laugh of the occasional spectators glancing through the slits in tightly curtained windows or slammed shutters.

Finally, after circling the city, Xing decided to settle down for the night. He chose one of the empty houses, a small but cozy two-story building with a neglected courtyard, where overgrown curly grass sprawled over the stone slabs and a small empty fountain was filled with trash and dry leaves from the trees growing there.

With qi, Xing opened the locked door and stepped inside. There was a thick layer of dust in the completely empty rooms, which he got rid of by transforming qi into the Earth element.

Throwing his bags and burdens on the floor, he rested his head on them and immediately fell asleep, this time choosing to let his body get a night's rest instead of meditation.

A true hero from crystal would have woken up to a disturbing feeling, a sense of danger, or a flash of intuition. But alas, Xing was far from being a hero, despite his keen sense of intuition. So when he felt something cold and nasty touching his body, he just rolled over onto his other side, swatting it away like a pesky swamp mosquito near his home village. It only helped for a short time, and no sooner had he dozed off than the sensation of being held by a giant frog came back. Xing waved his hand once more. He again unconsciously covered it with a layer of qi and tried to fall asleep. Alas, whoever it was had succeeded, Xing woke up.

He stood up and listened to the sensations. The city was sound asleep. The calm flickering of internal energy sources among the residential neighborhoods not far away seemed completely quiet and serene. But just what were those strange patches of cold unpleasant qi, not just moving through the streets, but even flying above them? And what was that lonely fire, too bright for an ordinary person but dim for a cultivator?

Xing decided to go out and sort things out. After all, it seemed these flying parasites were the ones who had tried to ruin his sleep.

He leaped outside and jumped onto the roof of the house. Two ethereal creatures were floating in the air, something like ordinary spirits, except that unlike the kin guardians or nature spirits, they were humanoid. Both looked like naked, waist-high, muscular men whose arms ended in long, curved claws and whose eyes and mouths were full of sharp teeth and tongues of dead-blue flame. They had no legs, and below the waist, the ethereal guests thinned into a curving stream of smoke.

The ghosts stretched their arms and lunged at Xing, swinging their claws. He picked up a dry twig from the roof and swung it at them. The already dead twig was if you could call it that, even deader. Where his claws had touched it, the wood was blackened and crumbling with dust.

Xing was scared out of his wits. These things were very dangerous. If he was careless, they could ruin his new home, and he would have to scramble around again in the middle of the night to find a place to sleep. So, instead of investigating the strange phenomenon, Xing destroyed the ghosts by quickly dispelling them with a few swipes of his palm.

A low growl sounded from below, so Xing sighed and jumped outside to the last member of this performance.

The creature looked hideous as if the demonic wolf known from Duojia had decided it was tired of walking on four legs, so it was worth transforming into a human with a very vague idea of what a human looked like. Its skin was covered with a multitude of sores, its fur was sticking out in unkempt shreds, and its bulging eyes and extended mouth looked like it was suffering from an incurable disease.

The wolf pushed off with its hind legs and jumped at Xing very fast, almost like his Duojia disciples tasting a bamboo stick. Compared to the wolf demon, the creature was rather puny, and the skin... Xing grimaced as he imagined that he was skinning the creature to make clothes out of the skin. He didn't even want to dirty the flail, so he stretched out his arm, created a few thin planes of qi, and stepped aside, letting the pieces of the thing collapse onto the sidewalk and the splashing blood stain the wall of the house. The sight was very short and unappetizing.

Why don't the crystals ever show heroes covered in the guts and shit of beasts? he mentally groaned.

He was still clean, of course, but he wasn't going to live next to such a dump. It was time to find a new place to sleep.

He turned around and headed for the house - to pack his things.

* * *

At first light, Xing took to the streets again, this time with a clear goal in mind. There were no large supplies of food and no money to buy them, but that didn't bother him in the least. There were plenty of rich men in the city, many of whom were probably complete scoundrels. He aspired to be a hero, and heroes don't rob or steal. But if it's all for a noble cause, and the victims are scoundrels, then it's a different matter. This is exactly what one of the heroes that Han Nao admired so much - Zhan Chuang, nicknamed Lightning in the Dark - was doing.

The only obstacle was the lack of information. Xing was poking around in Akhribad like a blind kitten, unlike the imperial cities, he did not know the rules and regulations. He could not even read the signs, for he had never learned the intricately patterned writing.

Despite the early morning, the streets were full of people. They were all dressed in rough, tattered clothes, carrying shoulder bags behind their backs and carrying hammers and pickaxes. Some were on foot, while others were riding on a cart packed with people. Xing, who had learned how to swing a pickaxe back in Duojia, knew exactly what these people would be doing, except there were too many for miners.

He lurked in one of the narrow alleys and waited. He didn't have to wait long. A man was walking along the very edge of the street to avoid being swept away by the crowd. Even without the qi of his heart dantian, Xing could tell he was in poor health because his leg was dragging so badly.

Xing wrapped the shemagh around his face and lay low, and as soon as the man came to a narrow passage between two houses, he grabbed him by the scruff of the neck, dragged him into the alley, and clamped his hand over his mouth.

"You answer my questions quickly, clearly, and without wiggling, understand?" he asked in his most villainous voice. "If you understand, nod."

The man rounded his eyes and nodded. Xing lowered his hand.

"Who are you? Let me go! Do you know what the Lords will do to you?" the man whispered.

Xing smiled, grabbed him by the edge of his robe, and lifted him on his outstretched arm above the ground.

"They're out there somewhere far away. I'm right here. Besides, are you sure you'll be missed?"

"I'm sure they won't," the prisoner said doomedly. "But it's not about me. One of them died today, so they're furious."

"Dead?" Xing was surprised.

"Lord Malik! I don't know the details, but his body was discovered last night, so the guards are furious."

Xing could barely keep from smiling. It might be a coincidence, but of the three sorcerers he knew, including Sharif, one of them was also named Malik. He didn't do anything bad to Xing, but didn't like him very much, so Xing wasn't upset.

"Let me go, good man!" cried the prisoner. "My seal will soon be completely gone, and if I don't earn money to renew it, all is lost! I must hurry, and my wife and four little ones are waiting for me at home..."

"Stop!" Xing ordered. "I'm not interested in your family or your name. You call me a kind man, but that is a mistake. I am not a good man. The sooner you answer my questions, the sooner you will leave, and I will not kill or maim you."

"It is useless to maim me," said the prisoner bitterly. "After the collapse in the mine, I'm already crippled. But you are good. I can see it in your eyes."

"And I'll be even better when you answer my questions. So good that I'll let you leave in peace. What is this seal? Why doesn't anyone walk the streets at night? What is the mine? Answer me!"

"But everyone knows that!" the man was surprised. "Even little children!"

"I see you enjoyed our conversation so much that you decided to have a longer chat."

"No, no, no. I need, as soon as possible..."

"Then just answer the damn questions!"

Careful not to reveal his disguise too much, Xing released his qi, pressing down on his contact, giving vent to his irritation over the restless night. It seemed to be overdoing it. A puddle began to spill out from under the rough wooden-soled shoe.

Xing felt like a villain at this moment, but the situation was moving forward, and the man began to talk. And as he spoke, Xing grew darker and darker. Tariq was right: the sorcerers of Akhribad were notorious scoundrels. However, Xing had come here for the sole purpose of obtaining his spatial ring, so he had no intention of making friends or hugging any of them.

Here reigned a cruel and gloomy system, showing once more how good and honest is the order of the Empire, how just and fair is the Emperor's eye. In Akhribad, it did not matter whether one was an honest worker or a complete slacker, whether one was rich or poor, whether one was an adult or a child. Everyone bowed to the power of the sorcerers, who were called "Lords" here. And they did not call them that for nothing - sorcerers really did command life and death. Especially death.

Every inhabitant of the city paid them tribute. Money, called "kasbah" here, was not made of the usual metals but small hexagonal flat pieces of stone. Those who paid received a special seal on their hand, which allowed them to pass the stone guards, enter the inner city, buy artifacts and spells, and even ask the Lords for mercy. However, Xing's unwilling interlocutor never had enough money for the second and third level of the seal, let alone buying charms. Most importantly, the seal holder could survive the night without falling prey to Marids and monsters roaming the darkness. The seal faded and disappeared with time: if one of the Lords did not pay money to renew it in time, the fate of such a person became unenviable. Anyone who did not have enough money for the seal or could not pay for the lodging house where the owners bought special amulets from the Lords to protect the whole house, one day simply disappeared. His breathless body was either found in the morning or not found at all. A man without a seal was called "matrud" - the rejected one, and it was dangerous to be near him at night. It often happened that the Marids who came after a rejected person drank the life out of everyone in the house, even if they had a seal.

"The surest, albeit difficult, way to earn enough kasbah," the prisoner said, "is to work in the mines. But if you don't have a seal, you won't get out of town, and you won't get back in. Those who have to sleep in the lodges are already dead, even if they still breathe and walk for now. I'll soon join those dead if you don't let me go now."

"And if I let go?" Xing asked.

"Then... Oh, come on! Then I'm still a dead man, but maybe I'll last a little longer," the captive bowed his head. "After the rocks fell on my leg, it took too long to get to work. I can't get much ore, and I have to get home before dark, which means I have to leave early. When I die, my wife will die too. I hope my daughters will be taken into a wealthy enough family and my sons into the guard. The eldest will be ten in a year, the age of the seal. He's a diligent boy, unlike his foolish father. . ."

"What's the mine?" Xing asked. "What do you mine there?"

"Oh, the mine is a ruinous place!" replied the captive. "It is near Lahib Shadid itself, and believe me, stranger, you can feel the unbearable heat of the volcano even there. But worst of all are the Shu-Ni, nasty little birds ready to peck out the eyes of anyone who disturbs their peace. Sometimes salamanders come out of the Lakhib Shadid vent. They live in the depths of the flames, but they don't mind bathing in the hot water that gushes out from under the mountain, and they don't mind eating a careless miner or even an overseer. And then there's the Rukh bird, which can kill even a salamander, let alone a man! You ask what we're mining. No one knows except the Lords. But they say the ore we turn in during the day contains Azrak!"

"Azrak?" Xing wondered.

"Marwahat Azrak! The magic metal that the Lords value more than anything else in the world! It is worth more than all our lives combined!"

Xing stuck his hand under the shemagh and touched his chin to think. Many things that had happened in the past twenty-four hours had gained clarity. The captive first cast despairing glances at the street and then simply lowered his head and sank.

"That's it, stranger," he finally said. "My time is up. I won't get enough ore today, which means I won't get my money. My savings will be enough to renew my wife's seal, and hopefully, Vidad will have mercy on her, and she will find a good new husband. If not, well, we've had a hard but happy life."

"Extend your arm!" Xing commanded. "Not that one, you idiot! The one with the seal!"

The captive didn't argue - his eyes darkened, and, judging by his qi, he didn't care anymore.

Xing concentrated to the utmost, studying the very complex and intricate energy flows. This sihir, though slightly different, was still similar to qi. Even though Xing didn't understand how this seal worked, he realized the meanness of its creator. Sihir, qi, energy, whatever it was, was slowly flowing out through the deliberately made gap. The prisoner had been right: it would be just a little while, a couple of days at most before the currents finally dissipated.

"When you renew the seal, do the sorcerers write something down?" Xing asked. "You know, in a book or a scroll or something? To know who paid and who didn't?"

"What for?" The prisoner asked without interest. "Whoever doesn't pay will die. You just pay and put up your hand, yours and your wife's. I'll never pay again. Even if I had enough this time with this leg, I'm not a good worker."

"That's a good thing!" Xing laughed.

Despite the captive's doom and indifference, a spark of resentment flashed through his qi. Xing didn't pay any attention to it but grasped his palm tightly, transformed his internal energy into something as similar as possible to the seal's energy, and directed the altered qi directly into his hand. The dull, almost erased seal immediately poured colors and shone brightly. The prisoner's indifference was gone, and he stared at Xing as if he were one of the Twelve Gods.

"You've helped me a lot," Xing smiled. "So I will help you."

"But you've already helped me enough, oh Lor....."

"Shut up, idiot," Xing irritably cut him off and the captive immediately obeyed.

After adjusting the structure of the seal to stop the energy leakage, Xing turned to his heart dantian, scooped up the qi, and channeled it through the man's hand and into his body. The injured and improperly healed knee, which had been burning an alarming pus-yellow color in front of Xing's spiritual gaze, began to heal: bones and cartilage broke and re-bonded, inflammation subsided, and blood flowed easily through the healed veins. Not two dozen breaths later, the leg was healthy again, as Xing suspected it would be - much better than it had ever been before.

The captive, whose body was no longer in pain, realized everything at once. He did not hesitate to pull down his wet pants and stare at the clean, healthy skin. Apparently determined to undo all of Xing's work, he collapsed to his freshly healed knees and touched his forehead to the stone sidewalk.

"O great Lord, who honored the lowly and despicable Adib with your priceless attention! Forgive me for not realizing who you are! Forgive me! Forgive me! I did not know that the Circle of the Children of Ravda is not a silly legend of ignorant commoners, that you really exist and help us, mere mortals! And if I can ever do anything for you..."

Xing didn't listen to him anymore, he climbed up to the roof and ran away, grinning. Even though he didn't know anything about charms, he had memorized the structure of the seal, so it wouldn't be difficult to repeat it!

* * *

It took Xing a whole day to recreate the enchantment on his arm. As it turned out, knowing and seeing the structure and recreating it were very different levels of difficulty, and by the end, Xing thought that it would be much better and easier to just live in Akhribad and swat the annoying Marids as needed. Finally, he was so exhausted from rebuilding the weave that he fell asleep, shaking his fist at the angry spirits flying about. The spirits were either frightened by the threat or the seal was in order, but he slept through the morning without disturbance.

In the morning, at the very crack of dawn, he headed for the gate, watching the qi of those around him so as not to accidentally run into his acquaintance from yesterday, Adib, who could recognize him by his eyes or clothes.

After waiting in a long line at the city gate, Xing followed the many miners down the well-traveled road. Either the lions had not yet been repaired, or the seal was still working properly, but he passed through the gate without incident. It was a long walk, taking over an hour. It was seriously annoying because if he hadn't had to pretend to be a simple man, he'd have gotten there in no time.

In his imagination, Xing drew the mine as a snaking passage into the depths of the rock, like the one he had once dug near Duojia. But that notion turned out to be fundamentally flawed. Like beehives, the mountain was dotted with multiple entrances reinforced with wooden fixtures. Each of them was lined with a string of people. From some of them led wooden rails lined with iron, on which stood large crates on wheels. Not far from the mines, right at the edge of the cliff, was a long and ugly building with a couple of mages inside and at least a dozen amulets at work. Another pair of rails, this time all-metal, led straight into the huge stone box, on which stood not just a box but a huge cart.

Xing followed the miners and came to the entrance of one of the mines, where an overseer stood with a large clay tablet, which, judging from the qi it contained, was clearly an artifact. Each of the miners placed a hand on the tablet and walked inside. Xing's head worked feverishly. The seal now glowing on his hand was a replica of another one. He had no idea what the consequences would be for this Adib, but he didn't want to bother checking. Xing covered his eyes and very carefully, so as not to alarm the sorcerers, released the qi, studying the seals of the other miners. He quickly found out there were many similarities in their structure, differing only in one minor pattern. So he hastily changed the pattern in his seal, trying to make it both similar and different from the others.

"Hey, you!" He was jerked out of his thoughts by the guard with the sign. "Yes, you dummy! Did you fall asleep? Seal, hurry up!"

Xing suppressed his irritation and the sudden urge to hit the screamer, so he silently held out his hand.

"You're new, aren't you?" asked the overseer. "All right, don't answer! Move aside, let the others through! Riyadh, there's a new guy here! Explain everything to him!"

To the disgruntled murmurs of the crowd, Xing walked out and approached the small and slightly twitchy man who had appeared from somewhere after the shout.

"Newbie?" He grinned with a mouthful of crooked teeth. "Well, don't be shy. Everyone was new once! No pickaxe?"

"No," Xing admitted.

"Pfft, don't be a sourpuss! Nobody had one at first! Luckily, the Lords have taken care of everything, so you'll have a pickaxe! The cost will be deducted from your earnings."

"How much is it worth?" Xing asked.

"Do you care?" The warden grinned. "If I told you a thousand kasbahs, what would you do? If you had enough money for a pickaxe, you wouldn't have come here!"

"I..."

"Don't worry! You'll only pay half your wages! But until you pay up, you'll keep the pickaxe here. It's for the best, you don't have to carry such a heavy thing into town!"

"I've never worked here on the mi..."

"You don't have to explain! You're not my first or even my hundredth. You don't know what to do, you don't know how much ore to extract, where to put it, and how much money you'll get. Am I right?"

"Right," Xing admitted.

"Everything here is voluntary!" snorted the overseer. "You can work as long as you want. Do you see the carts? We call them "trolleys". You bring a full cart, and put your hand on the sign. You don't have enough trolley, you get baskets from that barn over there. But you'll have to walk with the baskets more often!"

"And what if..."

"If there is less in the basket or the trolley than it is supposed to be, we will not count anything! If you put more in the basket, we won't count the extra either. It's strict here! Don't worry. No one will cheat! Everything is under the control of the Lords, and the main thing for them is that there is enough ore, and its flow does not stop. Ask me, don't touch the others - they won't answer anyway. They have to mine the ore themselves!"

"Which..."

"What ore? Chop everything you see! No one knows what we're mining here. The Lords know, but they won't tell you, and the others are happy to lie, so don't listen to them. They'll start telling you they're mining Azrak! That's bullshit! Well, maybe it's not nonsense, maybe it is Azrak, maybe it's anything. Maybe the Lords just like throwing extra rocks off the cliff - there's nothing to guess."

"What about monsters..."

"Have you heard the stories?" chuckled the overseer. "It's all nonsense. If you are smart enough not to go into Lahib Shadid, you won't see any monsters! Just don't touch the birds, you'll be fine. Don't go swimming either!"

"Swimming?"

"Up the mountain. Hot water gushes there and then flows into a lake. You have a smart face, but it's a strange, out-of-town face. So I trust you won't go in there. If the salamanders don't eat you, then you'll just boil like a fool. Salamanders do come here but don't worry, the Lords are nearby, they'll drive them away. And the creatures usually kill one or two. And you've seen for yourself how many of you there are. They won't get you!"

"Ah..."

"Just get a pickaxe and a basket and go! You think you're the only one? Look, there's three of them waiting. Go on, get out of here!"

Xing picked up the pickaxe, took one of the baskets near the entrance, and headed into the mine, feeling like little Feng again, living in a village the gods blow their nose at.

* * *

Day after day, Xing worked in the mine, taking in the surroundings and earning his first money. No matter how ugly the pickaxe was, no matter how bad the iron it was made of, it was worth as much as a governor's sword. But Xing worked hard and paid the full price in just two days, much to the amazement of the overseers and the dislike of his fellow miners. What came next was pure profit. Xing often studied the stones he mined here, and some obscure feeling made him frown. There was something about this ore, something both strange and familiar at the same time. It wasn't until the morning of the second day that Xing finally realized that the stones contained tiny particles of the strange metal he had made the bracelet from. This required verification, so he didn't return to the city at night.

As it turned out, sleeping in the forest was no defense against the Marids. They were particularly fierce here, so he had to destroy everyone in sight. He checked out a huge building, where he found a strange machine full of mechanical parts and various spells, which produced unexplainable things and threw the waste off a cliff. He jumped down to a mountain of waste rock, where he discovered with his qi that the ore was poor, but there were still some remnants of sorcerer metal in it. And they could be extracted perfectly with the help of the Metal and Earth elements. Thus, Xing had two large, fist-sized ingots of the strange purple material he had taken from the hearts of the puppets on the island.

Then he checked out the volcano. Xing expected to see lava, clouds of smoke and sparks there. However, there was qi and only qi - aggressive, fierce, and ruthless. Xing didn't go any farther into the depths as he realized he would have to go naked because, otherwise, all his clothes, except perhaps his flail, would turn to ash.

Salamanders were huge lizards the size of horses. They were not afraid of fire. They liked to lounge in the steamy lakes. Xing also liked to bathe, so he used his flail to show them he wasn't a good food but a troublemaker. After scaring them away with his qi, Xing was finally able to relax, wash, and rest.

He needed a home. A place where he could not only live but also work, where he could put things and acquaintances back together again. A place he could return to and call his own. He could, of course, build his house here in the forest, or on the shore of one of the boiling lakes, or right in the mouth of a volcano. It would not take much time, and such a house had many advantages. One could cultivate and temper one's body every day in the concentration of fiery energy, gaining more and more strength with each passing moment. One could set up a workshop and smithy here, bathe in the pleasant hot water, and feed on salamanders or small animals. Many heroes from crystals at one point in their lives did the same thing - secluded in the mountains, became hermits, invented new techniques, and gained a new enlightened understanding of old ones. Even the famous Heaven and Earth Split, with which Bao Xiao had defeated so many enemies, was also born in such a place. Here, in the volcano, Xing could become much stronger, and maybe in a few years, he could even match master!

But there were some disadvantages to such a dwelling. Xing wasn't too afraid of sorcerers, but they could discover a suspicious building, destroy it, and desecrate it. It was too far from the city, from the source of information and knowledge, and Xing realized that he was a little tired of being alone during his travels. And, most importantly, he was interested in sorcery: statues and fire puppets that came to life, barriers and hidden spaces. He dreamed of flying, not just on a flying sword or a huge bird. He wanted to be able to soar like Sharif in the air or to be transported through space over long distances, only this time at his own will. And for that, he had to be as close as possible to the heart of this magic - to Akhribad.

Both goals, power and knowledge, were equally important, but contradictory. If there was one thing Xing had learned over the years, it was how to combine the incompatible.

* * *

"Hi, Kasim! You're finally open again! Why don't you open Feng's every day? You'd earn a lot of kasbah, you'd be rich by now!"

"I'm sorry, Mahoud, but money isn't the only way to be happy! Hey, don't just stand there. Come on in! It's open till lunchtime. There's time, but not much!"

The small line in front of the gate quickly trickled inside the courtyard, seating themselves at the long counter and at the tables. Xing walked over to the boards where the ingredients were already laid out and began chopping. The preheated stoves and ovens were blazing, and Xing tossed in some wood, but he cooked with qi, of course.

"Hey, Kasim, you promised..."

"Of course, Bahar, your dagger is ready!" Xing smiled, pulling the sheathless blade from under the counter, tossing it from behind his back, intercepting it in mid-air, and holding it out by the blade to its future owner.

"Oh, such a good dagger! Even better than Mazlum's! I saw him cut a nail with his, and not a scratch on the blade! You're a great blacksmith, Kasim!"

"Then why don't you give me the great money?" Xing smirked. "Okay, go ahead, pay up, and either order something else or stay out of the way!"

Xing nodded at the large pot on the counter where customers were throwing money. There were already rumors about a cook, a healer, and a blacksmith who didn't haggle. As it turned out, in local mythology, there was a demon or god named Rai al-Wajib who granted the wishes of travelers, but if they deceived him, the deceiver would suffer a thousand misfortunes from which even death was no relief.

After Xing demonstratively kicked away a couple of idiots who decided to cheat him out of a few kasbahs, whispers began to circulate about Xing. Xing, amplifying his qi hearing, repeatedly heard him referred to as "Kasim al-Wajib."

"Is our order ready?" one of the visitors asked.

"Sure! Two ducks in their own juices and mushroom stew, take it away!"

Xing piled the food onto the clay plates at lightning speed and sent it one by one to the end of the smooth counter.

"Kasim..."

"Your message has been delivered, Mahood," Xing assured him. "Here is the reply."

The huge, muscular furrier looked on appreciatively. Physical power was strangely matched by timidity in the affairs of the heart, and Xing had been carrying notes to the girl Mahood had been sighing about, and relaying replies from her, for a month now, almost since the opening of General Feng.

The first money he earned at the mine went to pay for the house. The house was large enough, had a spacious yard, and was in a good location. It would have cost a lot of kasbah but for one thing: the house was considered cursed, for four families had died in it in succession, and only bloody and disfigured bodies had been found, and not all of them. The owner, a gray, shaky bearded man, taking money from him for six months in advance, tried to dissuade him, to look for another place to live and not ruin his youth. Of course, Xing didn't listen.

Just in case, he ran through the neighborhood at night, killing a dozen Marids and two more bald bipedal wolves that, like the first one, were prowling the streets. But he hadn't seen anything dangerous or supernatural.

He didn't plan to work for real, from morning to night. He didn't need a large means of subsistence. He was going to spend all his free time cultivating and exploring Akhribad. So he opened his place occasionally and irregularly, charging above-average prices and not even haggling. That was why he put the clay pot on the counter.

Xing had thought that the house's grim reputation would scare away visitors and the restaurant owner's oddities would drive away those who remained, but to his surprise, after the first timid visitors, the people came in droves, and they had been lining up at the gate since dawn, as soon as a yellow flag appeared above the gate, as a sign that the place would be open today.

Xing did not do his main business here; he had built a hut not far from the volcano, where he had a smithy and a laboratory. But the absence of a furnace only reinforced the idea that Kasim was a fierce but benevolent spirit, and if you didn't piss him off, you could leave with a great deal of profit: well-fed, satisfied, with a good weapon or a miraculous elixir.

Xing cooked meals, brewed potions from customers' ingredients, did blacksmithing, told stories from scrolls and crystals, and simply gave advice. He spent the rest of his time either running around Akhribad, getting to know the people and establishments, or cultivating in the volcano, where he went naked to avoid burning the new clothes he had bought to replace the worn-out taubu and shemagu he had gotten from the Badawi.

He glanced ravenously at the salamanders, going farther into the flames than he could yet reach. He thought about the ingredients he would need to tan their skins and how strong the clothes would be. From time to time, he caught the small, aggressive birds that were called "Shu-Ni" here. The name was vaguely familiar, but he had never been able to meditate on it and remember where it came from. The meat and feathers of these birds contained a lot of warm Yang energy, so Xing not only ate them but also tried to use them in elixirs.

Unfortunately, even though Xing had settled in and familiarized himself with Akhribad, he had not yet achieved the most important thing. All the sorcerers lived in the Inner City, competing with each other at the height of their towers. The entrance to the inner gates was blocked by statues of giant warriors who would not let Xing inside. He could have broken through, but he chose not to. If he raised the alarm, as he had done the first time, he would have to fight seriously, and the tale of the Sharif throwing a poor foreigner into the city would not do. If any of his visitors had a high-level seal, the problem would be over immediately. But alas, there was no one to copy the seal, so Xing was collecting money to order it from a sorcerer. It wouldn't be the slightest bit difficult to forge the local kasbahs by creating them from stone and embedding a weak qi weave, but no hero would engage in despicable counterfeiting!

"...still searching!"

"You bet! First, one Lord died, and then two more!"

"So it's been a month! Believe me, it's not for nothing! Do you think maybe the Children of Ravda are still..."

"Shut up, you idiot! You'll get us all killed!"

Xing didn't hesitate to eavesdrop on the conversations of the visitors, for it was from them that he learned so many interesting things. He found out that in the blessed times of the past, there had been no desert, and the city had prospered despite its remote location. And then something happened. Two sects or churches clashed, the Children of Ravda and the Servants of Talam, after which the gods intervened, and a barrier of sand and lightning appeared, destroying all life. And that if it weren't for the Lords protecting from the Marids and other misfortunes, the city would have died out long ago.

"Hello, Adib!" Xing called out to the new visitor. "How's the leg?"

"Hey, Kasim, why are you listening to this fool?" laughed one of the guests.

"Now he'll tell you that he met the Lord who cured him without taking any money!"

"Or that he renewed the seal for free."

"Hey, Adib, maybe it wasn't the Lord. Maybe it was one of the demons or spirits."

"A Genie! You've met a Genie! Or an Ifrit!"

"Laughing, you fools! Adib laughed softly. "Maybe not the Lord, of course. Maybe a spirit. I only saw his eyes, and they were kind, like... Like Kasim's. And the accent..."

The laughter instantly died down as if cut off by an axe. All the visitors stared at Xing and whispered among themselves, nodding meaningfully.

"What will you order, Adib?" Xing asked. "And why aren't you at the mine today?"

"That's where I'm going. You hear me, you knuckleheads, I'm going! I'm running! On my own feet! A month ago, I couldn't even walk! Well, Kasim, I was just passing by to thank you for the pickaxe. You took a lot for it, of course, but now everyone envies me! It pierces stone like a knife to halva and as sharp as my wife's gaze when I look at my neighbor inadvertently!"

The visitors seemed to come out of their stupor. There was laughter, talking, shouting, and advice. Most of the jokes revolved around what to do with the neighbor, how deep to go into the mine, and what kind of rock to chisel with the pickaxe.

Xing smiled as well. He was in a good mood - he had almost enough money, so he would be able to go to the sorcerers for a new seal in a couple more days. And then... He already had a mage he would visit very soon.

* * *

Chapter 22, in which the hero is homesick and meets up with an old acquaintance