Proofreader & Editor: Lotas
When Salt Long returned to Salt City, no one was aware.
He wore a tattered linen cloak, no longer adorned with a string of garlic around his neck, and a straw hat on his head, looking just like an ordinary old farmer.
This was a change Salt Long made after his journey to the Eastern Continent.
There was no need to flaunt his identity as an ascetic, nor to swagger through the streets. A steadfast and devout practitioner should not waste energy on external appearances.
Standing in front of the temple, Salt Long raised his head, his cloudy eyes gazing at the ancient and solemn edifice.
Great God Yao, my time is short, but I have given it my all.
Though I still cannot break through to higher limits, I believe the successors will find a way.
***
Beside him, a female adventurer carrying a large pack was also examining the temple.
Salt Long stood quietly.
A figure emerged from the temple.
It was a youth with his head covered in a black robe, who walked down the steps and approached the old man.
"Are you the Grand Elder of the Ascetics, Salt Long?"
Salt Long smiled, wrinkles piling up on his face: "It seems you are the new Oracle, even younger than the rumors suggest."
Oracle Shi Bao smiled: "You've come to pray to the deities, haven't you? Please, come in."
"No need."
The old man shook his head: "With the divine in one's heart, temples are everywhere."
"Your wisdom truly surpasses that of ordinary people."
The young Oracle exclaimed in admiration, then suddenly with a grave expression, as if realizing something, said: "You're gravely injured, please go to the infirmary to recuperate."
"It's beyond healing."
Salt Long said calmly: "I am a man soon to die. I have received enlightenment of the [Stigmata] through divine revelation, but in the end, I am subject to birth, aging, sickness, and death."
"I can clearly feel that my life is nearing its end."
He was neither panicked nor regretful.
Though fate had its twists and turns, he considered himself luckier than most.
"My visit here is just to give you this, some insights from my cultivation."
Shi Bao took the scroll of sheepskin handed over by the old man.
He carefully read the recorded text, his face growing more and more astonished.
"[Theology] for beginners, [Martyr] cultivation, to the advanced [Stigmata]… Gaining knowledge and self-awareness through pilgrimage, challenging Transcendent beings to push one's limits…"
"Is this… the method for ascetics to enter the Transcendent realm?"
"Just some immature personal experiences."
Salt Long spoke calmly: "This is an outline I've figured out on my own, it may not suit everyone. I hope it can help others avoid some detours, that would be satisfaction enough for me."
"You're giving this to me, instead of the Ascetics…" Shi Bao seemed to realize something, but didn't finish his sentence.
The old man nodded: "Yes, I wish for you to have it, so that everyone may have the chance to read it."
"The Ascetics… as much as I hate to admit it, many do not wish for ordinary people to enter this realm."
"In my presence, they put away their arrogance and carefully disguise themselves. But when facing others, they often adopt a superior attitude, because they consider themselves Transcendent."
"My limited wisdom cannot solve this problem, so I thought it over and compiled all my knowledge and experience for all to see."
"Perhaps if everyone can become an ascetic, it will help maintain humility and respect. This too is an inspiration from God Yao."
Salt Long suddenly coughed violently, his gaunt body shaking.
Hunter Rain gently patted the old man's back and handed him a water skin.
The old man took a sip.
After a long contemplation, Shi Bao said: "The answer you've been unable to find for years, I am even more clueless about. But I do have an idea, why not rename this manual and make it completely public?"
"The path for ordinary people to enter the Transcendent realm is a remarkable feat. You might as well give it a new name, completely severing ties with the Ascetics, freeing it from any constraints."
Salt Long thought for a moment: "Let's call it Martial Ascetic."
The old man bid farewell to the Oracle and headed north, crossing high mountains, passing through Yao City, and finally reaching the depths of the forest.
Here lay a series of volcanoes, the black mountain range teeming with powerful fire elemental creatures.
As the spectacle [Aegir's Fire] grew ever more magnificent, the volcanic region became a forbidden zone for humans.
"Why have you been following me?"
Salt Long looked towards the towering black mountains and removed his straw hat.
Hunter Rain was no longer laughing and joking, but spoke seriously: "At first, I wanted to learn Transcendent power from you."
"Later, I didn't know why, but I just felt it would be such a waste if you just died."
"Many years ago, my great-grandfather Nong Ang died because he fell in the fields and no one came to his aid in time."
Salt Long was taken aback: "Nong Ang… the hero who invented barley wine, so you are his descendant."
"Yes."
Hunter Rain said: "After my great-grandfather passed away, my grandfather continued farming until slavers took over Salt City, then he gave up the fields and returned to hunting… I inherited the profession."
"But our family's brewing skills are still alive. My great-grandfather was always researching mead, and I'm trying to perfect it, to create a truly unforgettable mead."
The old man suddenly realized: "You've reminded me. Please run an errand to tell Oracle Shi Bao that it's best for Martial Ascetics to have a companion during their cultivation, especially if that companion is skilled in healing or scholarship."
"Otherwise, such dangerous cultivation methods can easily lead to death."
"Understood."
The old man extended his dry, calloused hand to the young man, saying earnestly: "I am deeply grateful for your care along the way."
Hunter Rain shook his hand.
"Let's part here, may God Yao bless you."
Salt Long took off his hat and strode towards the human forbidden zone that represented death. The fire elemental creatures quickly noticed him and swarmed towards him.
Hunter Rain remembered her great-grandfather as told by her forebears.
The blazing flames ahead were like a dazzling and magnificent field of red barley.
***
After recounting Salt Long's experiences in one breath, Hunter Rain felt a wave of fatigue, even a bit faint.
"Please have some barley wine, it'll make you feel better."
The man sitting opposite ordered a drink.
"No need, I'm used to drinking my own brew."
Hunter Rain took out a sheepskin water skin from her backpack, pulled the cork, and a slightly intoxicating aroma wafted out.
Pawa sniffed: "Is this the mead you mentioned?"
"Yes, it's still a work in progress. Would you like to try it?"
"If I may."
The taste of the mead made Pawa close his eyes, utterly enraptured: "Such fine wine, Miss Hunter Rain, you really should produce it in large quantities, many would love it."
"It's not good enough yet, the honey ratio needs adjusting. Let's get back to business, Mr. Pawa."
"Ah, right, sorry, sorry. The wine just carried me away."
Pawa sat up straight: "So, the last time you saw Grand Elder Salt Long was in the volcanic region, right?"
"Yes."
"Understood, missing for a year. We'll consider Mr. Salt Long as missing for now. I'll record his battles in the Eastern Continent and his personal experiences in the latest 'Pawa's Marvelous Adventures: Heroes Edition.'"
"That would be great." Hunter Rain sighed in relief.
"Miss Hunter Rain, I have a small suggestion."
Pawa put away his notebook: "I have a group of dwarf friends who worship fine wine and respect master brewers. If you don't mind, you could go to the southern [Dwarf Fortress], where the dwarf adventuring group [High Furnace Eccentrics] is resting. They're all old friends of mine."
"You make mead, they will offer you all the help you need."
"Since you want to introduce your mead to everyone, why not use [Dwarf Fortress] as your brewing site? The environment is simple and pure, and the dwarves are straightforward. They will provide you with the necessary funds, it's a good place to live, as long as you don't mind the sound of forging… of course, it depends on your personal preference."
"I'm willing!"
Hunter Rain's eyes widened, her face unable to hide her joy: "Dwarves have a good reputation, if possible, of course, that's great."
"That's wonderful! I'm sure the dwarves will be very happy."
Pawa smiled: "I'll write you a formal letter of introduction right now."
"Thank you!"
Hunter Rain took the letter of introduction and left Salt City.
She looked back at the black mountains to the north.
I will brew the finest mead.
You must also strive to live, Teacher Salt Long.