358 Ironleaf Frontier

The melody drifted across the cobblestone street like a gentle breeze. It was soft, wistful, yet majestic. The zither’s silver strings sang of glory and tragedy both, weaving an old tale that was still young in the people’s hearts.

Under the soft light of dusk, an elegant, blue-haired young man sat cross-legged on a simple stool at the corner of the main street. His features were handsome and refined, his robes of dark azure silk fluttering lightly with every movement of his fingers.

The crowd that gathered around him listened with rapt attention as he sang.

“When the Sun fell from the heavens, and the hand of the Celestial reached from the abyss below, the Holy Emperor rose alone, a sword of light in a sky of fire and shadow. The traitors fell, their blood a river that washed the Empire clean, and thus peace descended, by one man’s will, and Heaven’s decree.”

His voice was calm and magnetic, filled with conviction and sorrow. Even those who didn’t believe in the story found themselves caught by his tone, their hearts moved by the rhythm. Children pressed closer; merchants paused their trade; even guards on duty forgot their rounds for a brief, golden moment.

When the final note faded, there was silence born of awe, before the crowd erupted in cheers and applause. Coins clinked against the bowl before him.

The blue-haired bard smiled softly, bowed his head once, and vanished among the crowd as he bid his farewell. No one ever saw exactly how he did it. Some said he stepped between the strings of his zither and vanished into song. Others said the wind itself carried him away.

But one thing was certain. Because of him, business boomed. The alley where he performed, once poor and empty, had become Ironleaf’s busiest corner.

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“Two skewers, please,” I said, fishing out a few silver coins. “Here’s some.”

The stall owner, a stout middle-aged woman with sharp eyes and a warm smile, looked up. “Oh, it’s you again! You missed him!”

I faked a sigh. “Yeah, I missed him again.”

“He just left! You almost caught him!” she said, handing me the skewers.

“Ah, what a shame,” I said, shaking my head, hiding the small smile that threatened to creep up my face.

Around us, people were still chatting excitedly about the performance.

“I swear, it has to be the Wandering Bard!” one man said, his tone filled with awe. “No one else plays like that. The same story, the same melody… just like the legends from the Great Desert!”

A younger man snorted. “Idiot, the Wandering Bard’s only active in the Great Desert! He wouldn’t come all the way here to Ironleaf.”

“He’s called the Wandering Bard for a reason,” an older woman interjected. “Who says he can’t wander here?”

A group of giggling girls joined in, whispering to one another. “They say the Wandering Bard can change his face to anything he wants. If that’s true, maybe he’s been walking among us all along~”

Another man laughed. “If he really is the Wandering Bard, try showing your thigh next time! The rumor says he performs better if you do that!”

The crowd burst into laughter at that, some rolling their eyes, others just shaking their heads with a smile.

“Bah, rumors,” a tired merchant grumbled, though even he couldn’t hide the grin tugging at his lips. “Who cares who he is? The song was good. That’s all that matters.”

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Unbeknownst to all of them, the blue-haired bard they so adored had just bought skewers from the next stall over… me.

It had been easy slipping in and out with the Human Path’s shapeshifting art. A tweak of qi, a change of tone, and no one would ever suspect the quiet customer with messy green hair and an unassuming face to be the ethereal musician that drew half the city’s crowd.

As for this Wandering Bard, they were all talking about… I had to chuckle.

Jue Bu was alive and well, spreading the faith of the Great Guard across the Great Desert. It seemed he’d been doing his job too well, though, because now every wandering musician was being mistaken for him.

Still, I couldn’t be mad. He had a good heart, despite how rotten sometimes it was. Still, his songs, even the exaggerated ones, carried the message I wanted to be heard.

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It had been half a year since I arrived in Ironleaf. Half a year of songs, sermons disguised as stories, and subtle acts of kindness that turned a forgotten alley into a thriving community.

“I guess it’s almost time to move on,” I said aloud, half to myself. “I am gonna miss this place.”

“That’s a pity,” the stall owner said, sighing. “You’ll make an old woman cry. I’ll lose another precious customer.”

I smiled. “You’ll manage. You’ve got a good spot now, and your skewers are the best in Ironleaf.”

She chuckled, shaking her head. “Flatterer. You just want an extra one, don’t you?”

“Maybe,” I admitted.

I looked at her, this woman who had once been a beggar, starving with her sick child and crippled husband. She’d told me her story once, back when I was just a stranger who left too much silver on her stall. Now, she ran one of the busiest food stands in the city.

If I left, she’d lose a little business… but I knew she’d stand tall. She’d worked too hard to fall again.

“I’ll miss your skewers,” I said sincerely.

She beamed. “Then take some for the road, my lord swordsman.”

I placed a pouch of silver coins on the counter. “For you. And for the next six months of luck.”

Her eyes widened. “Oh, heavens! I can’t take this much—”

“You can,” I said gently. “And you will.”

I bought a handful of skewers, stowing them into my storage ring as discreetly as possible.

“Thank you for the patronage,” she said finally, voice trembling slightly as she smiled. “May the Great Guard watch over you.”

I scratched my cheek, feeling a bit embarrassed. “...Yeah, let’s hope so.”

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Half a year.

That’s how long I’d been grinding away, fighting beasts, slaying monsters, spreading faith, and meditating under sun and storm alike. Every day had been a test of patience and endurance, but it finally paid off.

My cultivation of martial arts had deepened to a level I could finally be proud of.

At last, I had stepped into the realm of a martial master.

Sword silk was now something I could conjure naturally. What was sword silk? It was the whisper-thin manifestation of one’s aura through the blade. It wasn’t grand or flashy like qi techniques, but it was delicate and sharp in matters that would put most famous weapons to shame. I could feel my sword responding to my intent, vibrating with the faint hum of unity between body, will, and steel.

And the Human Pat… ah, what a treasure trove of mysteries it was turning out to be.

At first, I thought its shapeshifting gift was its greatest strength. But over time, I discovered something far more profound: it allowed me to understand humanity itself from our dreams, ambitions, greed, compassion, and the tiny flicker of defiance that made mortals challenge Heaven itself.

No wonder Providence loved humanity.

Short-lived as they were, they pushed further than immortals with a thousand years ahead of them. They burned brighter because they had less time to burn.

If only I could say the same about myself.

While my progress was real, I was still far from my ultimate goal, to fully comprehend the Four Great Attributes. Until I did, every victory felt like a single drop in a vast, unending ocean.

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The doors of the Ironleaf Adventurer’s Guild creaked open as I walked in. Immediately, a wave of chatter met me. The air smelled of sweat, oil, and cheap ale. It was the kind of scent that clung to mercenaries and wanderers.

I didn’t need Divine Sense to know people were talking about me. The looks gave it away.

“Hey, that’s him,” whispered one man near the quest board.

“The guy who killed a hundred pirates!” his friend added, wide-eyed. “Not to mention, he really hates bandits and kills every bandit that crosses his path!”

A woman cleaning her blade chuckled. “A hundred? Please. My brother was there. Said it was more like a thousand.”

Another man at a nearby table snorted. “Forget the pirates, didn’t he wipe out that pack of monstrous wolves led by some demonic beast? They say its heart was still beating when he ripped it out!”

A round of gasps followed.

Of course, someone had to add, “Yeah, but did you hear the real rumor? He’s supposedly… castrated.”

A mug hit the table. “Castrated?”

“That’s why he never visits the brothels!” another voice piped up. “The girls said he’s too shy… or maybe he doesn’t like women!”

Laughter echoed through the hall.

I sighed inwardly. So that’s what people thought now, huh?

Most of it was nonsense. I didn’t kill a hundred pirates, barely half that, and only because I was very motivated not to die that day. The wolf subjugation rumor? Completely false. They weren’t demonic wolves, but kobolds, little bipedal mutts that shouldn’t have existed in this world to begin with.

That, frankly, worried me.

They fought using mana-based skills, something unique to the game world of LLO. And yet here they were, slashing through adventurers like they belonged here. I had my main body investigating that anomaly, but so far, nothing concrete had come up.

As for the bandit killings, that one was true.

I didn’t tolerate bandits. If they’d repented, fine… I’d spare them. But none ever did. After what I’d seen in this world, I didn’t feel guilty about thinning the herd.

And the castration rumor…?

Well, that one was ridiculous. I just didn’t have time for women or brothels. Between martial arts, faith work, and surviving in this fragile clone body, the last thing on my mind was fooling around.

Still… part of me felt oddly resentful toward my main body. It made no sense. We were the same person, same soul, and same mind. But somehow, being the “lesser” version, the one scraping by in this frail vessel… it stung.

“I guess in this body, my human qualities are further highlighted.”

I pushed the thought aside and approached the counter.

“Good afternoon,” said the guild receptionist, a bright-eyed woman with her hair tied neatly in a bun. “Back again, Mister Wei?”

“As always,” I replied with a faint smile. “Anything strange lately? Sightings, unusual beasts, odd disappearances… anything that smells off?”

She tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Hmm… nothing too unusual, really. Just your typical demonic beast sightings. Frontier life, you know?”

I leaned closer. “Come on. There must be something.”

Her cheeks flushed slightly. “No, really! Just routine matters. A few demonic boars to the west, some lizards up north. Nothing worth your level of skill, I think.”

I sighed, slipping a small silver coin onto the counter. “Maybe this will help you remember.”

She blinked, then laughed nervously. “You’re terrible, Mister Wei. But no… I swear, there’s nothing out of the ordinary.”

I raised a brow. “No strange corpses? Mutated beasts? Disappearances in the wilds?”

“None that we’ve heard of,” she insisted. “If anything truly bizarre shows up, you’ll be the first we call. Oh, there’s kobolds, lots of them... But someone already took the request…”

I leaned back, disappointed but not surprised. “Alright then. I’ll hold you to that.”

Her expression softened. “You always ask about these things. You’re not looking for trouble, are you?”

“I don’t look for trouble. Trouble looks for me. Anyway, here’s my haul…”

I spread the items carefully across the guild’s verification counter, one by one. The heavy sack landed first with a dull thud, followed by the metallic clatter of proof tags and beast tokens. The receptionist’s face paled slightly when the severed tiger head rolled into view, its pelt still pristine and faintly warm with lingering vitality.

“This one’s from the Azurefang Tiger,” I explained, tapping the enormous head. “Leader of a beast pack west of the Ironleaf valley. It reached the peak of Third Realm before I took it down. I used clever traps, poison, the terrain, and my awesome martial arts to hunt it.”

Next came the rough burlap wrapping of bandit heads, each of them worth a decent bounty. The tags nailed into their foreheads clinked against one another as I dropped them in a neat pile.

“These,” I continued calmly, “belonged to some of the more notorious criminals around the northern routes. Their bounty should still be valid.”

And lastly, I placed a few smaller, strangely shaped skulls on the counter with long muzzles, jagged teeth, and twisted bone crests that didn’t belong to any beast of this world.

The receptionist leaned in, curious. “What… are those?”

“Kobolds,” I replied. “First time seeing it? Strange creatures.”

She frowned, noting them down. “Y-Yes, first time…”

A moment later, my payment came in a pouch heavy with spirit stones and a few adventurer vouchers. I gave her a polite nod and left without further comment, my mind already elsewhere.

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The streets of Ironleaf were busy as always with merchants shouting over one another, steam rising from food stalls, and the smell of metal and oil from the forges. I walked through the noise absently, my thoughts circling back to those kobolds.

If they were lizard-like, that meant dragon influence. If canine, then perhaps the handiwork of some strong spirit or divine beast. Both possibilities led to complications.

“If it’s dragons,” I muttered under my breath, “then I might have to prepare a few offerings.” I smirked faintly at the absurdity. “If it’s spirits, though… well, this body can handle that much.”

I turned a corner and stopped at a modest formation and crafting shop. The smell of old ink and spirit metal greeted me as I stepped inside.

“Welcome, young master,” said the elderly shopkeeper. “Looking for something in particular?”

“Another storage ring,” I replied, scanning the shelves. “The last one’s nearly full.”

He chuckled softly. “Ah, the curse of success. Here, this one’s sturdier, refined with obsidian thread. Two gold pieces. Fifty medium-grade spirit stones.”

I tossed him the payment and slipped the ring onto my finger, feeling its pocket dimension hum faintly with space.

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My next stop was the smithy of a friend. The air grew hotter the closer I got, smoke and embers escaping through the open windows.

“Oi! If it isn’t my savior!” roared a booming voice from inside as I entered. “Back again, are you?”

The burly man behind the anvil, face smudged with soot, grinned at me through his beard.

“I told you I’d come by,” I said with a smile. “I need weapons, a lot of them.”

His hammer stopped mid-swing. “Weapons, eh? What kind?”

“All kinds,” I answered, placing a list on the table. “Axes, swords, spears, maces, shields… make them all from black iron. No embellishments, just solid craftsmanship.”

He let out a low whistle. “That’s quite the order. You starting your own army, boy?”

“Training,” I said simply. “And black iron’s the best for it.”

He laughed, slapping the side of his furnace. “Hah! You and your crazy training ideas. Still, I can’t say no to a man who saved my daughter.”

His daughter appeared from behind a curtain, wiping sweat from her brow and giving her father a glare. “You still bringing that up, old man?”

“Why not?” he said with a grin. “If it weren’t for him, you’d be in a ditch somewhere. You could at least smile at the boy.”

She rolled her eyes. “I already thanked him a hundred times!”

I chuckled lightly, testing the edge of one of the newly forged blades made of black iron. The balance was solid and heavier than usual, but perfect for practice.

“Good work,” I said, tucking the weapons into my new storage ring. “I’ll be leaving Ironleaf soon, though. You probably won’t see me again.”

The blacksmith’s grin widened mischievously. “Leaving, eh? That’s a pity! You’ll miss your chance to marry my daughter!”

The girl’s face turned bright red. “Father!” she shouted, grabbing a wooden ladle and smacking him on the back.

“Ow! Hah! I was just joking!”

“Don’t joke about that!”

Their laughter filled the smithy, warm and loud.

I smiled faintly. They were good people.

I made good memories here. All genuine. Yet, when I tried to hold onto them, they slipped through my grasp like sand. I sighed quietly. “I want to be human,” I murmured, “but maybe… this isn’t for me after all.”

Perhaps I’d grown too used to letting go, sympathizing, connecting, and then moving on without hesitation. It was a noble idea, the power to understand humanity. But the cost of such understanding was detachment.

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I walked off the smithy, thinking of where I should go next.

The Martial Alliance would deepen my martial arts, but the Union… the Union had been harassing my Empire for far too long. If I wanted to address that issue personally, it might be time to head there. Of course, that might be too much for this body.

I was still debating which road to take when I bumped into two familiar faces at the corner of the street.

A sharp gust of wind knocked loose a paper talisman, fluttering between us.

I blinked. “Oh, it’s you.”

Lin Jing, the fan-wielding cultivator with his usual calm smirk, stood beside a broad-shouldered man holding a mace.

The latter scowled the moment our eyes met.

I pointed straight at him. “Hey! You’re that guy I knocked out back then.”

His face turned crimson. “You dare, pipsqueak?!” roared Guo Hui, gripping his mace tightly.

Lin Jing sighed and placed a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Calm down, Senior Hui. Don’t forget what happened last time.”

“Last time was a fluke!” Guo Hui barked.

I smirked. “Sure it was.”

I clasped my hands and bowed slightly, offering Guo Hui a contrite smile. “Brother Guo, about before… I was in the wrong that day. I lost my patience and acted rashly. Please accept my apology. Allow me to treat both of you seniors to a drink.”

The broad-shouldered man hesitated, his grip on his mace tightening. His brows furrowed as though he was weighing pride against appetite. Before he could speak, Lin Jing gave him a light smack on the arm with his folded fan and said evenly, “We accept. You can stop glaring, Senior Hui. Let’s give the man some face.”

Guo Hui grumbled, his lips twitching. “Fine,” he muttered. “But I’m not holding back when it comes to food.”

“That’s exactly what I’m afraid of,” I said with a short laugh, motioning for them to follow me.

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I led them through the lively market street to my favorite little eatery tucked between a tailor’s shop and a blacksmith’s. It wasn’t much to look at with bamboo walls, creaky chairs, and a faint smell of smoke, but it was comfortable. The owner was a round-bellied man with a nervous smile who greeted me the moment I stepped inside.

“Oh, it’s you again!” he said, wiping his hands on his apron. “Peaceful day, isn’t it?”

I chuckled. “For once, yes. I’m not here to break up a brawl this time, old friend. Just a meal for three.”

The owner laughed awkwardly, remembering the last three times fights had broken out in his shop. “Then please, sit! I’ll have the tables cleaned right away!”

We settled near the window where the scent of the evening wind drifted through the open shutters.

I waved to a passing waitress. “Three bowls of noodles, please, my usual for one, and drinks for the table. My friends will order what they like.”

Lin Jing folded his fan with a soft snap and smiled faintly. “Something light for me. I’ll leave it to the waitress’s recommendation.”

Guo Hui crossed his arms. “I’ll have pork dumplings, extra serving.”

“Coming right up!” the waitress said cheerfully.

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Our food arrived quickly. Steam curled up from the bowls as I snapped my chopsticks and began to eat. The noodles were just as good as I remembered. They were springy and soaked in a fragrant broth that had the right mix of spice and savor.

“So,” I said between bites, “how have you two been since the caravan?”

Guo Hui grumbled immediately, slamming his cup down on the table. “How have I been? Miserable! Thanks to a certain bastard who knocked me unconscious, I missed the chance to leave the Empire with the last caravan. Six months! Six whole months I had to wait!”

I blinked, laughing, and just as guilty. “Ah. So you mean… me?”

“Who else?!” he barked.

“Well,” I said, hiding my grin behind my cup, “for someone who complains so much, you seem to enjoy free food quite a lot.”

Lin Jing chuckled softly. “Let it go, brother. That incident’s long past. Besides, your reputation doesn’t mean much here when you’ve already left the Empire’s jurisdiction.”

Guo Hui’s face reddened further. “Still, it hurts my pride! I’m a body cultivator! No one had ever knocked me down before that day!”

I leaned forward, pouring more wine into his cup. “Then that just means you’ve got more reason to train harder, doesn’t it?”

He grunted, drinking in one long gulp before slamming the cup down again. “If you weren’t paying, I’d smack you senseless right now. You’ve got no idea how painful it is waiting for the next caravan.”

I grimaced slightly, guilt nibbling at my conscience. “That just means you shouldn’t have cut the line that day,” I said with a half-hearted laugh.

Lin Jing raised a brow and faked a cough. “In fairness, I did save him a spot,” he said mildly. “It wasn’t exactly line-cutting. Before I could explain, though, you flashed your Inspector plaque and started talking about your authority. Honestly, anyone would’ve reacted the same. Everyone knows how overprotective the new Guild Master is with Inspectors, especially after what happened to the last one.”

I blinked. “Wait… so it was a misunderstanding?”

Guo Hui smirked faintly. “Obviously!”

I sighed, rubbing the back of my head. “Here I thought I’d tamed my temper after all this time. Seems I still have a way to go.”

Then I lifted my cup toward them. “To being friends, then?”

Lin Jing and Guo Hui exchanged a brief look, the corner of Lin Jing’s mouth curling in amusement. They raised their cups.

“To being friends,” they echoed.

The three of us drank together, the tension between us dissolving like mist.

“By the way,” I said after a moment, “where are you two heading next? Any plans?”

Lin Jing set his cup down, his expression thoughtful. “The Martial Alliance has announced a grand martial tournament, a gathering of sects and clans from every region. It’s in five years’ time, but we intend to join. There’ll be chances for recognition, sponsorship, and advancement.”

Guo Hui nodded firmly. “It’s our best shot at building a name. I’ve been saving every coin and training my body for that event.”

“A tournament, huh?” I murmured, intrigued. “That sounds interesting. Maybe I’ll pay it a visit too… see how strong the next generation of martial artists has become.”

Guo Hui grinned, jabbing his chopsticks toward me. “If you do, don’t expect me to go easy on you again!”

“Again?” I laughed. “You mean the time I flattened you?”

“Keep talking, pipsqueak,” he growled, though his grin stayed wide.

Lin Jing sighed but smiled all the same. “You two never change.”