Chapter 30: A Weird Village

As they stepped out of the restaurant, the evening breeze carried the lingering aroma of roasted meat and fragrant spices from the bustling street stalls nearby. The town was still lively, with merchants calling out to customers, travelers chatting on the side of the road, and children running around in play.

Jiang Hao stretched his arms and let out a satisfied sigh. "That was a meal worthy of cultivators!" He smirked. "Though, it would've been even better if we had a little something to drink."

Wei Ren gave him a flat look. "You do realize our age, right?"

Liu Feng chuckled. "We're not even close to being of legal age to drink."

Jiang Hao clicked his tongue. "Tch. Yeah, yeah, I know." He crossed his arms and sighed dramatically. "Still, a man can dream."

Adrian shook his head, amused by the exchange.

After a bit more joking around, they made their way toward the town gates. Once again, the guards at the entrance stood at attention as they approached, giving them respectful nods before stepping aside to let them through. Jiang Hao couldn't help but smirk. "Amazing how a uniform and a title can change things," he muttered.

With that, they left the town behind and began their journey toward the village.

The path stretched before them, winding through rolling hills and scattered groves of trees. Occasionally, they passed by small groups of travelers, farmers leading oxen-drawn carts, or lone merchants walking with their goods. Birds fluttered overhead, and the distant sound of a river added a serene background to their journey.

As they walked, Liu Feng pointed to a nearby stream. "If we follow this, we'll probably reach the village sooner. Villages are often built near water sources."

Wei Ren nodded. "Makes sense. But the path isn't too rough, so we might as well stick to it."

Despite their enthusiasm, it didn't take long for exhaustion to creep in. None of them had truly begun their cultivation journey yet. Their bodies were stronger than an average child's due to their training, but they weren't at the level of true cultivators. Walking long distances still took a toll on them.

After some time, they had to stop for a break. They found a spot under a large tree, its branches stretching out like a natural canopy. Sitting down, they drank water and caught their breath.

Jiang Hao wiped the sweat from his brow. "I can't wait until we're actually cultivating. Imagine walking for hours without getting tired."

Liu Feng grinned. "Or running across treetops instead of walking on the ground."

Adrian remained silent, simply watching the road ahead.

After resting for a bit, they continued their journey.

The sun had begun to lower in the sky by the time they neared their destination. The village was just ahead, nestled between a series of rolling hills. Smoke rose from chimneys, and the faint sound of livestock carried through the air.

They had finally arrived.

At the edge of the village, they paused for a moment, taking in the sight before stepping forward.

As they stepped into the village, a stark contrast became immediately apparent. Unlike the lively town they had left behind, this place felt barren and quiet. The ground was dry and cracked, with patches of grass struggling to grow. The houses—if they could even be called that—were simple huts made of wooden frames with dried mud and straw packed between them. Some had thatched roofs, while others were covered with old, tattered cloths. A few wooden fences stood in disrepair, barely holding together against the wind.

There were only a handful of people in sight, most of them older men and women, their faces weary and sunken. They moved sluggishly, barely sparing a glance at the newcomers. A few chickens pecked at the dirt, and in the distance, a dog barked weakly before curling back up near the entrance of a hut.

Wei Ren furrowed his brows. "Should a village really look like this? I haven't visited many, but this… doesn't seem normal."

Jiang Hao crossed his arms, nodding. "Yeah. Villages are usually barren compared to towns, but not like this. It feels… abandoned, almost."

Liu Feng looked around, his expression serious. "Maybe something happened here. We should ask someone."

Without wasting any more time, they approached the nearest hut. The wooden door was slightly ajar, revealing a dark interior. Adrian stepped forward and knocked lightly. A moment later, the door creaked open, and a hunched old man peered out at them, his wrinkled face filled with caution.

The old man's eyes narrowed with suspicion the moment he saw them. His hand moved toward the door, almost shutting it completely, leaving only a small gap to peer through. "Who are you?" he asked, his voice hoarse and wary.

Adrian took a step forward and spoke calmly. "We're disciples from the sect. We're just here to ask some questions."

The old man hesitated, his grip on the door tightening. But after a moment, his tense shoulders eased. His expression shifted as realization dawned—if they were from a sect, that meant they were cultivators. And if they were cultivators, then maybe… maybe something could be done. He let out a quiet sigh of relief, glancing around as if ensuring no one was watching. After a brief pause, he pushed the door open just enough to let them in.

Inside, the house was dimly lit, with only a small oil lamp providing a flickering glow. The air was dry and musty, and the room was sparsely furnished. There was a small wooden table, a few clay bowls stacked in the corner, and a mat on the ground. The walls, made of packed mud, had cracks running through them.

"Sit," the old man said, motioning toward the mat.

The group sat down, their gazes fixed on him. Adrian spoke first. "Can you tell us what's been happening here? The village seems… deserted."

The old man exhaled deeply, his fingers trembling slightly as he clasped them together. "We don't know exactly what's happening," he admitted. "People have started disappearing—one by one. It began a few months ago. At first, we thought they had just left, looking for a better life elsewhere. But then… families began vanishing overnight. A father would go out to check the fields and never return. A mother would go to the river, and only her empty basket would be found. We—" He swallowed. "We don't know what's taking them, but we're helpless against it."

Jiang Hao furrowed his brows. "Why didn't you report this to the sect?"

The old man gave a bitter chuckle. "We did." He glanced at them. "At first, I thought you were here because of the request we sent for help. But now I realize… you didn't even know about it."

Jiang Hao's expression darkened. "Wait, you mean the sect ignored your request?"

Before the old man could respond, Wei Ren shot Jiang Hao a sharp look and subtly shook his head. His meaning was clear—not here, not now. Jiang Hao, catching the signal, clenched his jaw but said nothing further.

A few moments later, they stood up to leave. The old man gave them a weary nod, and they stepped out into the quiet village once more.

As they walked along the dirt path, Jiang Hao finally spoke, his voice laced with frustration. "What the hell was that? Why would the sect ignore them?"

Wei Ren sighed. "Jiang Hao, you need to be careful with your words. We don't know who's listening."

"But still—"

Liu Feng cut in. "Think about it logically. Do you really think the sect would care if a few villagers went missing?"

The words hung in the air like a heavy weight.

Jiang Hao fell silent, and Adrian, walking slightly behind them, felt a strange unease settle in his heart. In his past life, he had grown up in the modern world, where—even if flawed—laws existed to protect the weak. Even during his time in the trial world, he had lived under strict laws, learning about them but never truly experiencing the cruelty of a world without them.

But now, he was faced with a stark reality.

Human life meant nothing here.

The realization struck deep. He clenched his fists. I can't let myself forget. If I don't become strong, I won't be able to change anything.

He looked up at the barren village around him. The wind carried the faint sound of creaking wooden doors and distant whispers.

Something was happening here.

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