Wilbur gave it another try, focusing on an image of a Thunder-type Healing Pill. Sure enough, it appeared in the form of a mere illusory image as well and could not be consumed. It seemed like only the images of his thoughts would show up here, and not the real thing. It was the same with the Dark Messenger. While that attack had definitely hurt, it was not that bad. Wilbur spent all afternoon walking around the deserts before an idea finally hit him. He would use the special energy in the mirage to cultivate and improve his skills endlessly since that was the only way he would get more powerful. After all, it seemed like there was nothing really special or precious here aside from making his thoughts appear visually. The truth, however, was that memories were the most important part of a person. Human beings were prone to reminisce on the past, be it in wistfulness, remorse, joy, or resentment. Through it all, memories would only remain as memories, and they would never happen
The dreamlike sequence vanished along with the mirage, and Wilbur found himself on the shores of the real Wendis all of a sudden. It was nighttime then, and Wilbur clenched his fists as he felt the cool night breeze on his face. "I'm back at Wendis! This time, I'm going to make Light Valley pay!" As he spoke, several rays of golden light appeared above Wilbur's head. They intertwined to unlock a strange glowing space, and the fifth dragon cauldron fragment appeared. Wilbur caught the piece at once. He hesitated for a bit but ended up putting it in his demiplane before heading to dock fifty-two. "Oh?" Wilbur was confused at the sight of the broken wooden planks on the dock. After all, he had spent three years in that mirage. It would only make sense that three years had also passed in Wendis since Wilbur's battle with the Dark Messenger. Wendis was a pretty developed town, and dock fifty-two was still useful despite being rather narrow. Shouldn't it be repaired after three
Wilbur paused briefly before nodding his head and answered, "Yes." The Dark Messenger frowned. "Are you a cultivator?" "A what?" Wilbur met the Dark Messenger's gaze, before shaking his head. "No, sir. I think you've got the wrong guy." Despite the fact that Wilbur had gotten significantly more powerful and could definitely take the Dark Messenger down with ease in a battle, he knew that the Dark Messenger was still just a clone of the Dark Lord. After Wilbur killed the Dark Lord's first clone, the second clone that appeared was at least ten times stronger. Wilbur could easily take this second Dark Messenger down, but the power of the Dark Lord was still unfathomable. A third Dark Messenger was bound to show up after Wilbur killed the second one, and he did not know if he would be a match for him then. Wilbur had learned his lesson and did not want to cause himself any trouble. He was determined not to expose himself, at least not before he was significantly more powerful.
In the next three days, Wilbur continued to bring in a far bigger catch compared to the other beachcombers. He was getting two thousand Skermann dollars every day, and after five days, he finally took the innkeeper's advice and got himself a personal room. The room was far from luxurious, but it was certainly clean enough and he had it all to himself. Wilbur was at least able to get some rest earlier with his own room. However, this did not happen as he would spend his nights thinking about how he was going to take care of the war-ridden nature of Bullard Bay. Kortlin had said that if the wars were not put to rest within three months, Earth would never stand a chance against the Dark Lord. The problem was that Wilbur did not know what he had to do to put an end to the wars. It would take finding out the root of all the wars to stop them, and Wilbur had been asking around for news in the past few days. He found out that the wars in Bullard Bay were caused by an organization that
Wilbur wove through the crowds, listening in on their conversations and picking up useful bits of information. Ten days later, one of the beachcombers suddenly looked up at the sky with a frown before saying, "It's been almost twenty days since a mirage showed up. I thought mirages were supposed to appear for days at a time?" "You can't be too sure about anything. Maybe the humidity levels have dropped recently, so the mirages can't take shape." "A mirage is just an image made of refractions of the sun. There's nothing special about them. People just find them interesting." "Honestly, I'm more concerned about the wars on Bullard Bay than any mirage." "Bullard Bay's at war all year long, man. The refugees from the countries around Skermann have been flocking to Skermann like crazy, and it's only made the lives of us Skermann locals worse." "I wouldn't agree with what you just said. War is something no one desires, and all human beings are equal. They shouldn't be discriminat
Skermann was under great pressure and tension because of its economy and the steadily rising number of refugees. On top of that, some of the refugees had been disrupting the peace in Skermann and wreaking havoc. Despite all of that, Wilbur did not feel any of that tension here. Maybe Wendis was just a more relaxed town? It was only after Wilbur had zoomed in on a map of Skermann that he realized that Wendis was actually located in the middle of Skermann's coastline. This meant that Wendis was the furthest away from the other countries across Bullard Bay, and that definitely explained the lack of issues in their economy and safety. However, this would not last long. The situation at hand was already tense enough, and Wilbur actually planned to take direct action. Upon second thought, Wendis was just a small town in Skermann. It could be said that the town hardly affected Skermann at all. There were far more refugees in Skermann than it could handle, so it had to have been rece
"Those traitors! We're going to make them pay for what they did to us!" … "Silence!" Arthur roared, and the cultivators fell quiet. "This is a matter of great importance, and I only have one wish. Remember this: Within the next three days, I want to see the skull of General Buker of Ede!" Cultivators had the power to control the world of regular mortals. Buker, as the General of Ede, naturally had the nation wrapped around his finger. It did not take a genius to figure out that attacking Skermann had been his idea. Thus, killing Buker would cause a big enough wave to stir among the soldiers of Ede. They would surely lose their bravado and cease further attacks on Skermann. The truth was that Arthur had weighed out the possibility of being attacked by a neighboring country in the past two years, and even drafted plans to deal with the situation. Now that it had happened, Arthur was going with his best plan first. The thirty cultivators went on their way under General Arthur'
"Well…" Steviat lowered his head with a frown. "I'm afraid I don't know, General." "What?" General Arthur stared at Steviat in shock. "You just told me that someone killed Buker, but you don't know who did it? How can you not know something so important? This is disappointing, Steviat." The General had the biggest say in all of the Cultivator Guild, and all his orders were to be carried out by the cultivators. It was all the more important for the General's orders to be followed closely when the nation was facing such a huge threat. Nonetheless, Steviat had brought all the cultivators back from the borders just an hour after General Arthur gave his order. It was seen as a sign of treason. Steviat himself knew the severity of the situation and hardly dared to look Arthur in the eye as he fell to his knees. Just then, Kevan bowed and spoke up, "General… Mister Steviat is right. We did receive news from a reliable source that General Buker of Ede has been killed by a cultivato