Compared to the bustling crowd streaming in and out of the market shops, Dustin's plain, worn-out robes made him stick out like a sore thumb. Dust clung to his cuffs, and his belt pouch sagged pitifully light.
Inside the shop, well-dressed cultivators examined glittering array devices, while the shopkeepers busied themselves attending to more promising customers. Not one spared him a glance.
"Where did this beggar crawl out from?" one man sneered, voice deliberately low yet sharp enough to pierce Dustin's ears. "He probably can't even scrape together ten thousand taels to buy a first-order Spirit Gathering Array, and he dares step foot in here?"
Another laughed. "A first-order array is already dirt-cheap. A second-order array? Don't bother thinking about silver; you'll need vitality stones for those."
"Must be some green kid fresh out of the Martial Hall," another chimed in mockingly. "Maybe has a few hundred taels to his name, if he's lucky."
Their laughter buzzed like flies. Dustin kept his expression calm, though inwardly, frustration gnawed at him.
The shop's highest offering was a second-order array device, starting at a steep price of one hundred low-grade vitality stones and climbing up to three hundred. First-order arrays, comparatively "affordable," ranged from ten to fifty thousand silver taels.
On paper, one low-grade vitality stone could fetch five hundred coins of silver. But in reality, no one in their right mind would trade away precious vitality stones for mere silver. Among cultivators, stones were king. Silver was for mortals.
For martial artists who had broken into the Energy Gathering Realm, earning taels was child's play. But what they coveted were vitality stones—the currency of true power.
Dustin left the shop quietly, determination settling in his chest. One day, he vowed, I'll walk back through these doors with enough wealth to buy whatever I need—and no one will dare look down on me again.
Next, he wandered into a medicinal pill shop.
His gaze landed on a familiar label.
"One bottle of Energy Nourishing Pills… fifteen thousand coins of silver?" Dustin's eyes nearly popped out of his head.
The Energy Nourishing Pill was a staple first-grade pill, favored by practitioners in the Body Refinement Realm. It boosted one's ability to absorb heaven and earth's vitality, condensing inner qi faster. Noble heirs at the Martial Hall casually used these pills as daily supplements.
Meanwhile, Dustin couldn't afford even a bottle.
He sighed, lips pressed into a thin line, and exited the shop once more. His cultivation needed urgent advancement—but pills and formations remained far beyond his means.
His next stop was a weapons shop.
Rows of blades, halberds, staves, and hidden weapons glittered under oil lamps. Dustin's gaze was drawn immediately to the centerpiece: a striking, violet-hued long sword, proudly displayed.
The tag beside it read:
High-grade Human-Tier Soldier Weapon: Violet Light Demon Moon Sword
Dustin's heart skipped. A high-rank soldier weapon?
Such weapons weren't casually wielded. Without a strong background, anyone below the Energy Gathering Realm seen carrying such a sword was essentially inviting death—it was a beacon to be robbed.
"This sword catches your eye, young man?" The middle-aged shopkeeper approached with a smile. "This Violet Light Demon Moon Sword was crafted by Master Abel himself. Only four such high-grade soldiers exist in all of Novaridge City."
Dustin couldn't help but ask, "How much does it cost?"
The shopkeeper snorted. "Money? You insult the blade. Even if someone offered an astronomical sum, I wouldn't sell. This is Master Abel's masterpiece."
Dustin chuckled dryly. He couldn't even afford the low-grade soldier weapons lining the back wall. A glance showed their price tags: between three hundred and nine hundred low-grade vitality stones—each stone worth five hundred coins.
Weapons cost more than pills or arrays. After all, a fine soldier weapon directly amplifies a warrior's combat strength.
At best, my entire fortune adds up to one low-grade vitality stone… maybe.
He sighed.
Martial cultivation is an expensive path.
That was the harsh truth Dustin realized that day. For those born to commoner families, even with talent, progress usually plateaued around the fifth or sixth level of Body Refinement. Climbing higher required resources—stones, pills, weapons—all of which boiled down to one thing: wealth.
If a pig was fed enough resources, it too could become a master.
Dustin's gaze hardened. Without wealth, his path forward would be nothing but thorns.
Besides weapons, the shop also sold battle garments and armor. Unlike weapons forged for killing, these were crafted for protection. Unsurprisingly, they cost even more—twice as expensive at the same tier.
At the far end, Dustin spotted the rack of ordinary weapons. No fancy inscriptions or spiritual patterns. Still, filled with qi, they were sharp enough to slay first-level beasts.
He made up his mind.
With the annual assessment just a month away, he couldn't afford to sit idle. He needed strength—and money—to seize his future.
"Shopkeeper, how much for this Sharp Sword?" Dustin asked, holding up a sturdy blue-colored longsword.
The middle-aged man sized him up and chuckled. "Not bad eyes, kid. This sword's no soldier weapon, but pour in some qi, and it'll pierce most first-level beasts. Since you're young, I'll cut you a deal. Five hundred coins."
Dustin hesitated. He only had five hundred coins in total. Spending it all meant walking out penniless.
"Four hundred coins?" Dustin bargained calmly. "I need to set aside money for wound medicine and other necessities."
The shopkeeper scratched his chin, then shook his head. "Too low. You're a Martial Hall student, right? I'll drop it to four hundred and fifty coins for you. That's the best I can offer."
For many, fifty coins could take half a year to earn. But Dustin nodded without hesitation. "Deal."
He handed over the silver, the weight in his pouch considerably lighter. But the Sharp Sword in his grip made up for it.
The blade was over three feet long, thick yet balanced. In his fifth-stage Body Refinement hands, it felt perfect.
Dustin's eyes gleamed.
Once I reach the seventh stage, I'll be eligible to enter the Martial Hall's library and pick a third-rank sword technique. That day, no one will mock me again.
Before setting off, Dustin returned to the Martial Hall to file for leave. Students were rarely allowed to be absent for more than three days—a protective measure for their safety.
But Dustin intended to leave Novaridge City behind. His destination: Shiwu Mountain, thirty kilometers away. He wouldn't return until the assessment. He had no choice but to apply for an extended leave.
Armed with his Sharp Sword, a travel pack, some dry food, and determination, Dustin embarked on his first real journey as a martial cultivator.
Once outside Novaridge, the world opened before him—endless skies and boundless lands stretching to the horizon. The air smelled of freedom and dust.
He strode forward, a faint smile tugging at his lips.
A man walking the world by his sword—what more could he ask?
Unrestrained, fearless, free.
This was the life of a true warrior.
After three hours, Dustin reached Shiwu Mountain.
Groups of hunters and warriors loitered near the entrance, most in teams. His solitary figure, youthful face, and plain attire drew no shortage of curious and mocking glances.
"Where's this rookie from?"
"Looks no older than fifteen, probably still stuck at the fifth or sixth level of Body Refinement. Coming here alone? Does he have a death wish?"
"Maybe he's some hidden young master, slumming it."
"Bah! Aristocratic brats never show up without a dozen guards tailing them."
"I bet he'll be monster dinner before nightfall."
Dustin ignored them. He could feel a few gazes dripping with ill intent—hunters sometimes fought each other over prey and resources. But there were no Energy Gathering Realm warriors here; only Body Refinement cultivators dared tread Shiwu Mountain.
It was a low-risk zone, relatively speaking.
He stepped into the dense woods, breathing slowly. Every muscle stayed taut. He couldn't afford carelessness.
"This is my first hunt," he murmured. "Let's see how far I can go."
Climbing a tall tree, Dustin closed his eyes and entered a familiar state. His mind calmed, his breath evened, and his senses expanded outward—an ability gifted by the Pearl of Life and Death.
Within moments, a web of perception unfurled from him, stretching across two to three kilometers. Every lifeform—man, beast, insect—lit up in his mind's eye, their life forces shimmering at varying intensities.
Suddenly, his eyes snapped open.
A smile crept onto his face.
He moved, leaping lightly through the branches.
Coiled among the leaves, an arm-thick black-and-white snake lay in wait, its forked tongue flicking. The creature sensed his approach, fangs glinting as it prepared to strike.
But before it could pounce
Whoosh!
A cold gleam flashed.
The snake's head flew clean off, its body convulsing as blood splattered the leaves.
Dustin landed softly, inspecting his kill.
"A black-spotted viper. Nasty poison. Without an antidote, even a sixth-stage body refiner wouldn't last ten breaths."
He efficiently harvested the fangs, venom sac, and gallbladder, packing them into a box.
Snake meat sold well in Novaridge, but dragging the heavy carcass back wasn't worth it.
He smiled to himself. "Four hundred coins' worth in one snake. Not bad."
Martial training bled silver—but it also minted wealth, if you had the skill and courage to seize it.
And Dustin Rhys was just getting started.