The Gate Traveler

While steering the horses, I thought about lord Damarion. Initially, I thought he was after me because he discovered that the ritual wouldn’t work for him. But it turned out that he wanted Rue to be his familiar. And that was my mistake. When writing the information, I concentrated on the ritual and all its stages and forgot to mention that if the master dies, the familiar dies as well. Now, I needed to devise a way to tell him about it. Otherwise, I suspected he wouldn’t stop.

I always had the option to return to Earth, wait for Mahya and Al to finish their business, and then find another Gate. The world information sounded more interesting and exciting than the places I had visited so far, but I still hoped the other places mentioned wouldn’t disappoint. After thinking about it for hours, I still had no solution.

On the other hand, the wagon gave me an idea. I opened the Archive and sent Mahya a message.

I scrolled down the message about the coins and laughed. Travelers were a bored bunch sometimes.

It went on like that for almost two pages. At least they got a laugh out of me.

After a few hours of riding, we exited the forested area and arrived at the vast plain that continues all the way to the sea in the west and halfway to Azureas. From the information I gathered from various conversations, this plain was one of two “bread baskets” that fed all of Crystalholm. It had one major city in the center of the plain, and the rest were small agricultural towns.

After considering it for a while, I decided to go straight to Azureas and not detour to the city in the west.

For the next three weeks, we leisurely traveled from town to town, headed in an almost straight line to Azureas. There was a Gate on the way I wanted to add to my count, so we drifted a bit to the west in its direction.

The towns in this area were similar, but not the same. All the towns covered a wide area, with houses in the center of the land owned by the inhabitants. As far as the eye could see, it was mostly farmland with a home here and there. The only differences were the towns’ centers. They all had service establishments, like an inn, general store, smithy, and various shops. The difference was in the architecture and style.

In Bridgetown, the residents constructed buildings with weathered wood, reflecting the bordering forests. They covered the roofs with thatch, giving the town a traditional, almost pastoral feel. Farms stretched further out, and the chief crops here were various grains that grew well in the fertile soil. The town square was simple, but the delicious smell of baked goods wafting from the bakery made it feel cozy and welcoming.

The town of Greenshade had a more refined atmosphere because of the homes and shops constructed from stone quarried from the nearby hills. The fields surrounding the town teemed with vegetables, and their abundance created a vibrant green color in the fields. Greenshade was proud of its amazing produce markets, where farmers sold everything from fresh raak to juicy flimo. Of course, I bought a huge stock of both and many more interesting vegetables. The streets were narrow, but with the tall trees giving shade, it felt peaceful.

Silverhill had a bigger town center with huge stockyards. A patchwork of various crops adorned the farmlands here, but the chief trade thrived in livestock—an abundance of cattle and sheep. Well, sort of cattle and sheep—one was big, and the other was woolly, so that was how I categorized them. The town builders constructed Silverhill from sturdy brick, with a few windmills turning lazily in the distance. The blacksmith’s shop served as the heart of the town, and everyone could hear the clang of iron at all hours. I finally sold the last of the horses in Silverhill and left only the two pulling the wagon.

Rue went back and forth about his decision regarding the horses and wagon. When he sat next to me, he complained about the horses’ speed and even tried to growl at them a few times so they’d go faster. He stopped doing it because every time he’d growl at them, they’d shit themselves from fear. And since they were running in fright at the time, some of the shit flew at us.

When he went “home” into the wagon to nap on his beanbag or watch television, he couldn’t shut up about how great the wagon was. I was worried my dog would suffer from a split personality at some point—he was that preoccupied with this specific question.

As its name suggests, Bluewater was by a river that ran through the plain. The specialization of the farmlands here was in rice paddies and various water-intensive crops. What surprised me the most in this town was that the rice was identical to basmati rice on Earth: shape and taste. The town had wooden walkways and bridges over the paddies, and all the buildings were painted blue, reflecting the sky and water. With vibrant flower boxes in the windows, the place took on a postcard-like look, complete with a splash of color. The docks were a hub of activity, as small boats constantly arrived and departed, transporting goods and supplies.

Finally, there was Redrock, set near the reddish cliffs almost at the end of the plain. The farms here grew sturdy crops primarily used to feed the livestock, and the wind from the cliffs never stopped. The town’s architecture mirrored the cliffs, with red stone buildings that were squat and solid. Even the shops appeared rough, as if someone had built them to withstand everything. It felt more isolated, with fewer travelers passing through, but the community here was tight-knit, friendly, and welcoming.

During all this travel, I would stop in a town, present myself as a traveling merchant and healer, sell some things, heal some people, stay two to three days in a town, and continue. In the endless hours monitoring the horses, I slowly inscribed the Durability rune on all the tableware I bought from the bankrupt company in the UK and sold it in the towns—mainly to the inns. However, some residents purchased some, too. I also sold all the fabric I had from Vegas and China, most of the linen and towels, and all the cigarettes and tobacco products from Vegas. My total earnings from this trading were over 300 gold and some silver, but sadly, there were no levels in Merchant or Healer.

During all this time, I didn’t meet another detachment from lord Damarion. I didn’t think he gave up—the vibes I got from him made me believe he wouldn’t give up so easily. Either the wagon and horses threw him off or because Rue didn’t venture out of the wagon in some towns. I didn’t know why, but was happy to travel leisurely in peace and enjoy the journey.

We finally arrived at the Gate area. I unhooked the horses, gave them water, and tied them near the gate so they could graze. After the core shrank into its backpack disguise, Rue and I approached the Gate.

The threat level was too high compared to the mana level—I already understand the correlation between mana and threat level.

Maybe the World’s Info has the answer?

I opened the earlier information and read.

That was depressing, in a way. Now that I had the background, I returned to the last information.

Hmm, that’s interesting.

I stood there, scratched my head for a few minutes, and made up my mind. I opened the Archive and wrote a message to the gang.

After closing the Archive, I cast invisibility and tried to cross the Gate to add it to my count. Tried being the operating word. No matter what I did, I couldn’t cross the Gate.

I told Rue. “Rue, buddy. See if you can cross the Gate. Don’t linger; just check if you can.”

“Yes boss!”

A second later, I couldn’t feel him anymore. I waited with bated breath, and he returned in less than a minute.

“Rue back,” he informed me. “No problem.”

I tried again with the same results. No matter what I tried, I couldn’t cross. After standing there dumbfounded for over five minutes, I facepalmed. Of course!

I took off the backpack with the core and told Rue, “Guard the core.”

This time, I crossed with no issues. As always, the other side of the Gate was between two enormous boulders. What was new was the location: it was in the middle of an enormous junkyard or dump. Everywhere I turned, I saw massive mounds of garbage. It mainly was rusted metal that looked like it could crumble to dust if I touched it, wood that looked even worse, and a lot of rubber. Some of the rubber was tires that were quite similar to the tires on Earth. They were wider and smaller, but the design was similar. I rubbed my hands in anticipation.

My core can feast here for days!

I considered staying there for a few days to feed my core with all those riches, but then imagined Mahya’s face if I did it without her and shook my head, sighing. I returned to Lumis, and we continued our journey to Azureas.