Frost sat inside the carriage, or rather only his body was inside the carriage. The rest of his mind and soul were far, far away.
Part of it was still in the dungeon they had survived. The other was contemplating the possibility waiting for him once he reached the Pearl.
As far as he and anyone from the village he came from were concerned, the Pearl was nothing but a myth. They knew it existed, but only through words from people who had gone there, most of which were made up fantasies by busybodies. Others were scant details from traders who often lounged in their tiny village on their way elsewhere, because let's be honest, nobody stayed long term in Maldos.
What did they have?
Most of them were farmers, and poor ones at that. What they farmed was often for their own consumption, and most times the produce was barely enough to get them through one season, let alone the tough ones.
Frost and Brian had grown up practically as brothers, and after they came of age a couple of months ago, it had been their time to chase the myth.
The world of cultivation was popular, and they knew the legends that were said to linger around capitals. From what Frost had heard in stories and tales told by villagers, these legends were practically gods in their own right.
He wanted to believe it was all exaggeration.
But he knew that although the stories had been doctored as they passed through many mouths, there was still an underlying truth to them.
That was how he and Brian had decided to leave their village and head for the capital, the Pearl.
His smith father had not objected. He had not been happy either, but he had not objected. Most of the boys were leaving anyway.
It was like a quest every boy had to undertake. His father was not much of a cultivator himself.
Neither was Brian's. Neither was anyone's around the village. All of them were those who had failed, though Frost hated to admit it.
But as far as the village was concerned, there was no shame in that. Failure was more common in cultivation than success. Frost had heard plenty of stories about failure and hardly any about success.
There was, of course, the one Master Ogrey had told them.
And all prejudice aside, Master Ogrey was the most powerful cultivator Frost had met in his entire life.
But not everything the man had told them was nonsense. Except that he had been no master. Frost could recall the core saying as much to him.
And now that he thought about it, it did not make sense. Who would name anyone a master at E rank?
Still, the man had almost claimed the core by himself, and he might have succeeded if Frost had not had a trick up his sleeve all along.
The many coppers he had sacrificed buying cultivation articles across every village they passed through had paid off. The aspect of core binding had been listed under special tactics for dungeon survival. He had not known why he even paid attention to it.
Maybe it was because it was the only tactic that did not require much power to invoke. That was if you were in a core powered dungeon in the first place.
It had almost been magic, a sheer stroke of luck, that something he had read would prove important to him. He listened to the carriage wheels creak beneath the rough road.
Maybe this was foolish.
He had paid three more coppers to be driven to the next village. It was nowhere near the Pearl, but it brought him closer, even if the help was negligible.
He wanted time to recollect.
What would he do?
He had spent only one night in the village where the dungeon was located.
Frost and Brian had parted ways. Brian had made it clear he was no longer taking risks, and Frost did not blame him. Not after what they had been through.
He just hoped the boy would be bright enough to keep his mouth shut. But knowing Brian, that was asking for the impossible.
Maybe the dungeon had known as much.
Frost recalled it saying it would be prepared. He shivered at the thought of how many more lives would be lost before bigger guilds learned of its existence.
Or he could tell them himself.
It might even buy him entry into a guild academy, or at least some favor with whoever he sold the information to. But he had sworn himself. He had given his word to the dungeon that they would keep the secret.
While he could no longer vouch for Brian, he would keep his side of the bargain.
The core had practically resurrected him. There was no way he would have survived the lethal wound Master Ogrey had inflicted.
And although he was desperate to climb the cultivation ranks, something in him felt obligated to honor that bargain.
Back to strategy.
This was the last ride he was taking.
He would need to find a way to make more money.
They had left their village almost two months ago, and his father had sold nearly all the raw materials from his smith shop to fund Frost's wandering. His father probably thought he was in the city by now.
Frost shuddered at what would happen once Brian returned home and told the story. Once again, he hoped his friend had enough sense to avoid that.
But inside him, a new fire had been born with the discovery of the dungeon core.
Suddenly, all the stories he had heard felt alive.
So it was all true.
And with that realization came a burning hunger.
There was nothing he would not do to become the greatest cultivator who ever lived. Everyone started somewhere.
He would head to the Pearl like thousands did every year. He was not special, but he was willing to pay whatever price was required.
He had no money.
But if he had to wash people's feet to earn enough to enter a guild academy, he would do it. And maybe one day he would return home.
This time as proof to the village, and to himself, of the power that ambition held.
The carriage slowed and came to a stop.
"I'll just water the horses, kid. You might want to take a lunch break now."
"No, I'm good," Frost called back.
"Like hell you are. You might want to take a dump if you need to. This is the only place with enough cover. After this, we enter inhabited parts of the village, and I won't stop so you can relieve yourself."
Frost began to protest when the carriage curtain was pulled aside.
"Get down and go shit. See, them horses are doing the same."