Chapter 274: 274
After Brightblade's departure, Arran spent some minutes inspecting his wounds . It wasn't too bad — some burns, a few shallow wounds, and more than a few bruises, but nothing that would take more than a few hours to heal .
Just two years earlier, these same injuries might have killed him . And even if he'd survived, he would have been bedridden for weeks if not months . But his body had grown far stronger since then, and now, the injuries were little more than an inconvenience .
Still, he did not hurry in leaving . He sat quietly for several hours, looking out over the mountains around him as he chewed dried dragon meat and waited for his wounds to heal .
Evening was already nearing when he was well enough to travel, but after giving it some thought, he decided to remain for the night . Without knowing the region, traveling in the dark would be both dangerous and foolish .
Of course, he felt some unease at camping out so close to the formation — and the creatures behind it — but he forced himself to suppress it . The barrier had lasted for thousands of years already, and it should endure another night without issue .
And if this was the night the formation would finally collapse… well, there was no point in worrying about the sky falling down .
Arran slept unexpectedly well that night, better than he had in weeks . Perhaps it was the exhaustion from the previous days, or perhaps relief from having escaped the mountains' creatures, but whatever the reason, he awoke the next morning well-rested and eager to start his journey .
Yet before he could depart, there was one last matter to handle — his appearance .
He didn't exactly look like a typical mage, but in the borderlands, few people would mistake someone in long robes with an enchanted sword for anything else .
Moreover, his status in the Ninth Valley meant that he could no longer expect to go unrecognized . Few of the Valley's mages might have seen him in person, but any single one of those could reveal who he was .
He was unwilling to take that risk, and so, he decided to do a thorough job in disguising himself .
He began by shaving off his beard . He'd had it since he spent a year breaking Master Zhao's seal, and without it, many of the Valley's mages would have a hard time recognizing him . But he didn't stop at that . His blond hair was almost as recognizable as his beard, and with a deep sigh, he decided it would have to go as well .
Barely ten minutes later, he was as good as unrecognizable, albeit with a rather cold head .
It wasn't a style he preferred, but he knew it would make for an effective disguise . Shaven heads were common enough among mercenaries, bandits, and other rough folk, and being taken for one of those would stop most other travelers from asking too many questions .
Next, he took Brightblade's bag from his void ring and inspected its contents . He was relieved to find that most of the clothes it contained were sensible — which, with Brightblade picking them, had been far from a certain thing .
He briefly rummaged through the pile of clothes, then picked out a pair of thick linen trousers and a gray shirt, along with a pair of good boots and a weathered leather coat . All of those were things a rough-edged traveler might wear, and together with Arran's newly shaved head, they completed the picture of a former mercenary who was best left alone .
Next, he belted on one of the unenchanted swords his void ring held . Although it had a fine blade by common standards, it would do Arran little good in a real battle . But then, the contents of his void ring were only a thought away if he needed them .
Finally, when he was satisfied with his disguise, he set off toward the edge of the mountains — the first steps on what would be a long journey .
He soon discovered that simply leaving the mountains was no small task . Whoever had created Brightblade's map had clearly decided that mapping out the mountains was too great a task, and had instead filled the area with small triangles that bore little relation to the actual mountains .
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That left Arran to navigate a path for himself, and although he knew the general direction, the small mountain paths twisted and turned with annoying frequency, throwing him off course whenever he thought he was finally heading in the right direction .
Yet after half a week, he finally reached the foothills . And here, without inconveniently placed mountains and ravines blocking his way, his pace quickly increased .
Another half-week passed before he came upon a large village — the first sign of habitation since he had left the Valley with Brightblade .
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