Journey of True Cultivation-Chapter 67: Adventure of a Group of Friends

A warm day stretched across the sky, only a few clouds drifting lazily overhead. On an old, worn road, a black carriage adorned with intricate, fancy patterns rolled steadily forward, its appearance shrouded in a touch of mystery.

The entire carriage was drawn by a Demonic Mountain Horse, a striking white Horse bound by a leash held firmly by a young man.

The young man looked as though he had just reached adulthood. His short black hair framed tired eyes, dark circles visible beneath his sharp blue gaze. He wore a green robe decorated with flame patterns, marking him as part of the sect.

Behind him walked four companions. Three women and one man.

All of them wore similar robes, though one of the women wore only a plain green robe, lacking the embroidered flames. They all sat in the lotus position, focused intently on their cultivation.

All except for one.

A woman with long black hair and a well proportioned figure lay sprawled comfortably on her back, her eyes closed as she basked in the tranquil sounds of nature.

The birds chirped. The wind whispered through the air. The carriage wheels creaked, their rhythm matching the steady stomping of the Demonic Mountain Horse's hooves.

But then, her crystal like black eyes snapped open. With an irritated click of her tongue, she glanced toward the young man serving as the coachman, Ron and broke the silence with a complaint.

"Ron, how much longer until we arrive? I can't stand waiting on this carriage any longer!" Emilia complained, her voice thick with irritation. "I'm bored!"

Her tone grated on Ron's nerves, but it was nothing new. Complaints and impatience were part of Emilia's usual behavior, something all of them had learned to endure.

Unfortunately for Ron, today was the day his patience ran thin.

"Haaa..." Ron let out a weary sigh, his reply laced with cold indifference. "We still need a day. Sleep or something. Maybe cultivate like all proper cultivators do."

"Tsk." Emilia clicked her tongue in frustration. "There's nothing interesting on this damn old road. No demonic beasts attacking us, no desperate travelers needing our help. Nothing! It's nothing like the stories Grandpa read to me from those books."

"Oh, heavens... Why must I be the one to endure her complaints today? What horrible sins have I committed to deserve this punishment?" Ron muttered under his breath, his voice barely audible.

"Please, Heavens, spare this lowly one!" he added with a dramatic glance skyward, as if praying for divine intervention.

Before Emilia could fire back another complaint, one of their companions opened his eyes, his meditation interrupted by the constant chatter.

Jack.

He wore the same green robe as the others, his shoulder length blond hair framing sharp green eyes that now glared at Emilia with clear annoyance.

"Would you just be quiet, Emilia?" Jack snapped. "Some of us are actually trying to reach the peak of the early layer of the Blood Purification Stage. So, for once, just shut up."

The bluntness of his words left no room for argument.

"Say that again! Who should shut up? Me? Ha! Is that what you dream about in your sleep? Then keep dreaming!" Emilia shot back at Jack without a moment's hesitation.

Hearing Emilia's sharp retort, Jack's lips twitched with irritation. His fists clenched tightly, and his spiritual blood began to circulate through his body, stirring like a storm ready to break.

But before the situation could escalate, a tired, exasperated voice cut through the tension.

"Please don't make Jack angry, Emilia. You know he hates it when someone interrupts his cultivation," Amalia said in a weary, almost bored tone. It was clear she'd repeated those words countless times before.

"What did you just say?" Jack snapped, his glare shifting toward Amalia, eyes blazing with barely contained fury.

But before his anger could fully ignite, Jack forcefully reined himself in. He squeezed his eyes shut and took a deep, measured breath.

"In... out... in... out..." he muttered under his breath, his shoulders gradually relaxing as he brought himself back under control.

"Good?" Ron asked, concern etched on his face as he glanced at Jack.

Jack gave a curt nod, his expression still strained but no longer on the verge of exploding. Ron let out a long sigh of relief, grateful the situation hadn't spiraled out of control.

He couldn't help but recall the last time Jack snapped at Emilia. Their argument had turned into a fight so heated that Ron, Amalia, and the others had been forced to intervene just to keep Jack from attacking Emilia.

But that wasn't the real problem.

The true danger lay in how Jack's rage consumed him. When his temper flared, it was like a poison tainting his reason. He would lash out at anyone who tried to stop him, even his own companions, as if they were complete strangers.

Since then, Ron and Amalia had done their best to keep Jack's temper from boiling over. But Emilia's chaotic nature made her impossible to control.

She did whatever she wanted, whenever she wanted, with little regard for the consequences.

And, as Ron had come to realize, she seemed to enjoy pushing Jack's buttons just to see him lose control.

Truly, having someone like her as a companion in their Silver Snake group was more of a curse than a blessing.

But despite her antics, the five of them had somehow become friends. No one wanted to kick her out, so they simply accepted their fate and tried to live with it.

Even if it drove them all insane.

"Hehehe." Emilia chuckled at their behavior, her laughter light and mocking, just enough to irritate everyone present, including Anna, who was supposedly cultivating.

Or was she?

No one really knew if Anna was genuinely immersed in her training or merely pretending. But by now, they were all used to her quiet presence and her tendency to ignore the chaos around her.

As Jack and Amalia returned to their cultivation, Emilia suddenly spoke up, her voice brimming with enthusiasm.

"Since we're all awake and clearly not that focused on our cultivation, why don't we take a little break and play a few games of chess?" she suggested, her tone as excited as if she had just proposed a method to elevate their cultivation to the next stage.

None of them wanted to play.

But the alternative was enduring Emilia's endless complaints and nagging. So, reluctantly, they agreed. After all, a few rounds of chess were far less torturous than listening to her whine for hours on end.

They began to play, only Ron and Anna abstaining.

Ron because he was still holding the leash of the demonic Mountain Horse, and Anna because she was either cultivating or feigning cultivation, as usual.

So, the three of them played alone, their matches filled with half hearted moves and distracted gazes.

Time crept by until the uneventful day finally came to an end.

But the next morning, as the demonic Mountain Horse rested and drank from a nearby stream, the group set up two small tents and began preparing breakfast.

Anna and Ron worked together to cook a simple soup, while Emilia, Amalia, and Jack sat groggily on the ground, still shaking off the remnants of sleep.

Ron and Anna had already been awake for some time, their attention focused on cooking and keeping an eye out for potential threats.

But then, as they rested and allowed themselves a moment of calm, the sound of rolling wheels reached their ears, a carriage approaching from the distance.

The unexpected noise snapped them to attention, their gazes shifting toward the road.

Curious and cautious, they left their campsite to investigate, leaving only Ron and Anna behind to finish cooking the soup and maintain their vigilance.

After about two hundred meters, Emilia, Amalia, and Jack arrived at the old road and hid behind a cluster of bushes.

In the distance, roughly four hundred meters away, they could see a battle damaged carriage moving slowly along the road. The vehicle's exterior was battered, splintered wood and deep scratches marring its surface.

They squinted, trying to make out who was driving the carriage. But from such a distance, all they could discern was a blurry silhouette.

"Is that a man... or?" Amalia asked, her voice uncertain.

Jack and Emilia exchanged glances before nodding hesitantly.

"Did they run into bandits or something?" Emilia mused. "Maybe they survived an attack and are heading to Splitting Mountain City like us."

"Could be," Amalia replied. The carriage certainly looked worn out and damaged from battle. Even the demonic beast pulling it was moving slowly, its body wrapped in bandages that spoke of recent injuries.

"Should we help?" Jack asked, glancing at the two women.

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They both fell silent for a moment, thinking it over. Finally, Emilia nodded and looked to Amalia, who also gave her agreement with a slight nod.

"But before we go," Amalia said coldly, her gaze shifting to Jack. "Go back to Ron and Anna. Let them know we're heading over to check the situation. And just in case... tell them to stop cooking and be ready to come near if a fight breaks out."

Jack nodded and turned back toward the tents without a word, his pace quick and steady.

"Come on," Emilia said with a grin, motioning for Amalia to follow her. Without waiting for a response, Emilia strode forward, making her way toward the damaged carriage.

The closer they drew, the clearer the silhouette became. But as they approached, Emilia and Amalia realized this wasn't a man at all. No, it was a boy, no older than ten years.

The young boy's robes were torn and ragged, stained with dried blood. Dark circles framed his green eyes, and his black hair was matted with patches of dried blood as well.

Seeing this, both Emilia and Amalia's eyes widened. They exchanged a quick glance and nodded in agreement. Without hesitation, Amalia stepped forward, appearing suddenly in front of the carriage.

"Hey, do you need some help?" Amalia called out, her voice gentle and calm.

The moment the boy heard her voice, his eyes went wide with horror. His expression twisted into shock and pure, unfiltered fear.

Every emotion was laid bare on his face.

Panic, distrust, desperation.

He took several deep, shaky breaths, trying to steady himself. After a moment, he gathered enough courage to stutter a response.

"Wh-who... who are y-you? Wha-what do y-you want?"

Amalia's voice remained soft, her tone soothing. "Do you need help? Are you okay? I have some pills that could heal your wounds. Or, if you prefer, I also have some mortal medicine for your injuries. We can even help treat your mount if it's hurt."

The boy swallowed hard, his throat dry. "I... I don't have money!"

Amalia shook her head slowly, offering a reassuring smile. "Don't worry about money. I'm an inner sect disciple of the Howling Wind Sect. I don't care about something as mundane as coins. I just want to help you."

"Howling Wind Sect?" The boy's voice trembled as he repeated the words, his eyes growing even wider in shock.

Amalia nodded, keeping her movements slow and non-threatening. She stepped closer, and seeing her calm demeanor, the boy's shoulders finally relaxed. His fear seemed to ease, replaced by a cautious but growing sense of relief.

Now standing before the boy, Amalia pulled a small jar of cream from her sleeve. She gently applied it to his face and arms, her touch careful and soothing. As she worked, she began to question him softly.

"What happened to you? Why are you out here alone? You know it's dangerous to travel without protection."

The boy's cheeks flushed at her gentle touch, and he quickly looked away, his gaze shifting nervously. After a moment, he began to speak, his voice trembling.

"A few bandits attacked our carriage. We had a few peak Mortal Awakening Stage cultivators and even two Blood Purification Stage cultivators with us... They fought them off."

But as he continued, his voice grew strained, the sadness in his tone deepening. His eyes glistened as tears began to gather.

"But... we were outnumbered. The bandits were too many. Most of us... most of us died." Tears spilled from his eyes, streaming down his cheeks as his small hands clenched into trembling fists.

"At the end... somehow, only I survived. The bandits... they were all killed along with the cultivators who tried to protect us." His words came out in broken, choked sobs as he recounted how the bandits had fought their group like wild animals. The memory of blood and violence haunted his gaze.

Hearing his story, Amalia felt her chest tighten with sympathy. She let out a quiet sigh and gently stroked the boy's head, her fingers threading softly through his blood covered hair.

"Don't worry. You're not alone anymore," Amalia assured him, her voice firm but kind. "I'm here with a few other disciples. We'll take you to Splitting Mountain City safely. I promise you that."

The boy looked up at her, his tear streaked face showing a glimmer of hope. He nodded weakly, his body still trembling from the trauma.

Satisfied that he was calm enough to move, Amalia carefully lifted the boy onto her back, carrying him with slow, steady steps. After giving the injured demonic beast a few healing pills, she began the walk back to their resting place.

She moved carefully, mindful of the boy's weight and the fragile state of his emotions. With each step, she tried to reassure him,both through her words and her presence.