You see, Spark was a mutant, and all mutants, regardless of their abilities, had a default factor: they were faster, stronger, and more durable than regular humans.
So right now, even if Spark's ability was inactive, he was far stronger than your typical human.
'This sly old miser, something probably happened while I was unconscious, which gave him the false impression that I was a cultivator… he probably doesn't even believe I lost my memories,' Spark mused.
Indeed, just as he thought, the elder mistook him for a cultivator, but unlike what he assumed, the type of cultivator the elder had in mind was different from the one Spark was thinking of.
'Silly kid, he's probably one of those crazy martial artists who believe they can challenge immortals. Those grievous injuries must be the result of him pissing off a high-level immortal…
Still, I have to give him credit. After all, for him to face such a being and still be standing, he must be a capable martial artist.
'He could be useful in helping me get rid of those guys,' the elder deduced.
During Spark's treatment, they discovered that his skin was tough as steel, and even his wounds at the time were struggling to stitch themselves back together.
He surmised that if these injuries weren't caused by an immortal, Spark would probably have self-healed.
All these factors alone pointed to the fact that he was a martial artist. In the whole of the mortal lands, who could boast of such physiques if not them?
And another thing that made the elder more sure of his deduction was that every slight twitch of Spark's fingers, every spasm of his muscles, caused his bed to shatter.
Even when he landed on the ground, it wasn't spared either—it cracked and sank continuously.
They had to wait till he was calm before they went ahead and put him in the stable, lest he destroyed more of their properties.
Thinking of all these points once more, the elder smiled shrewdly, feeling more confident in his deduction.
"What type of problem are we speaking about?" Spark asked candidly.
"Hehe! Fret not, I know you martial artists are particular about your pride and honor, so it's nothing much really. Guo will inform you more about it while you tour the city…
After sleeping for three days, your muscles must be stiff. A light tour will be just right," the elder spoke while taking a bell from his table and giving it a slight shake.
'Huh? Martial, what now?' Spark thought, confused. His brow creased—this sly elder surely mistook him for something else.
Honestly, in his current straits, there was little to no difference between him and an amnesia patient.
Unfortunately, before he could convince the elder, the previous escort, Guo, was back and showing him out.
Not wanting to cause trouble, he could only hang his head in dejection and leave.
'Whatever, I'll get as much information as I can from Guo, and this problem of his—if it's something that doesn't align with my principles, I'll just decline.
After all, he can't force me, he's not strong enough!' Spark concluded.
He had sensed that both the elder and all the guards, though some had outstanding physiques, were nothing much in his eyes. He didn't need his ability to take care of the likes of them.
So if they assumed they could use him to do dirty deeds, that would be wishful thinking on their part. After all, he was still a hero—regardless of which world he found himself in, that didn't change.
As Spark exited the room, a young boy ran in. "Father, was that the poor guy we rescued?"
"Haha, yes indeed, Xiao Li. He'll be an honored guest of our merchant commerce, but just not a resident guest," the elder smiled while ruffling the lad's hair.
"Ah? Whatever. Father, Sister is back! I just saw her carriage pass through the main gates!" the boy announced excitedly, his face brimming with excitement.
"Ah, I see Cai'er is back. Come, let's go greet her." The elder quickly stood; a concealed sorrow flickered in his eyes.
'I see they didn't accept you. I guess there's no more hope.'
…
Spark and Guo exited the main gates, and he was met with the refreshing sight of human civilization.
Though a little bit more primitive than that of Earth's, it was more lively—people dressed in ancient wear moving about their business.
Every now and then, carriages could be seen carrying various goods or people passing by.
It was literally as one would imagine—only this time, it was real.
Spark felt refreshed at this sight, mostly because where there were people, there would be energy—be it the slight vibrations undulating through the streets, the vibration of the air caused by sound, or the heat produced by the body, all of it was embraced by Spark's input indiscriminately.
Finally, he felt secure!
He and Guo quickly started their tour, and during the process, he and Guo started talking. He was surprisingly an easygoing guy and answered all the questions Spark had.
After a thorough inquiry, Spark got a vague understanding of the workings of this world.
He was currently in a section of the Southern Wasteland continent called the Mortal Lands. According to Guo, all continents in this world had Mortal Lands.
It was a place the weak and the talentless occupied, and these lands were mostly protected by a Heaven and Earth formation that had the function of restricting the passage of high-level beings.
As for the name of the precise city he was in—well, it was a small nation called the Yang Empire. Apparently, it was once bigger, but due to some misfortunes, their territory kept reducing. Now, all they were left with was this city.
Of course, Spark had to ask about what he was curious about the most, which was Qi and Spirit Cultivators.
But he was quickly disappointed.
"I have never left the Mortal Lands. To me, such beings might as well be mythical gods," Guo responded.
Seeing Spark's disappointment, he smiled. "I might not know about them, but at least I can tell you about Martial Artists and Essence Weavers…
Only if you're interested, of course."