Garrett shouted. With a whoosh of his flying spell, he soared into the sky, whirling through the canyon.
Seraina flew beside him, while the barbarian rode Apa relentlessly below...
Garrett, originally eager to return home quickly, had thought about catching an airship or using a teleportation array near Hartland, a large city, to make his way back. Normally, this would take him a day, at most two, to get home.
However, both plans were vetoed by the Lord of Thunder. The legendary mage, eyes lowered, indifferently dropped the advice:
"You’d better walk the distance."
Well, then, walking it was. This included the earlier plan of taking a ship from Nevis Port, heading south for a while, and now packing up everything...
From Nevis to Hartland City, it was merely four to five hundred kilometers. Garrett sent a message to Elder Elwin, borrowing a bird trained by the Church of the God of Nature, which would take at most a week for a round trip.
If this were in the great wilderness, Apa could sprint and cover two thousand kilometers in five days. But from Nevis City southward, first to circle around Igor Peak, and then mountains upon mountains followed.
From Igor Peak southward, within 40 kilometers, the terrain was undulating, and the valleys deep. The Lord of Thunder meant for him to find his own way out.
Whether climbing hard, using a flying spell, following the valleys, or directly crossing the mountains, the idea was the same—proceed on your own.
Although he didn’t expressly forbid Seraina from carrying him or even scouting ahead in her dragon form, Garrett felt that if he really asked Seraina to do so, or even just to scout, it would end terribly.
So, he just had to walk. Garrett flew above while the barbarian rode the deer below...
"Aaaaah! I’m going to hit the mountain! I’m crashing!"
A poor choice—air currents varied greatly between the canyons, not a good place for a novice to practice flying spells...
Seraina laughed so hard she almost fell over. Garrett drifted slowly down, squeezed onto the back of the silver moon deer, and continued on the journey.
As a level 8 magical beast, Apa’s ability to traverse mountainous terrain was much stronger than Garrett’s. The wind whistled by his ears, quickly covering a good distance.
"Wait a moment! Stop, I need to check the map!—A mountain on the left, a mountain slightly ahead on the left, then a lake forward... Why doesn’t it match the map? Where am I now?"
Garrett missed the modern map-making technology, the Beidou navigation system, and the game mini-maps that showed a red dot just by opening them.
What kind of map was this, anyway? A triangle for a mountain, a circle for a lake. There were no contour lines, and the scale was guessed at random. He had been walking for only half a day, and already he didn’t know where he was!
Garrett turned the map over and over. After a long while, he looked up:
"Right, which way is south? Let me check... The position of the sun is... What time is it now..."
"That way is south," Seraina stretched out her hand lazily. Garrett was still a bit skeptical, having checked and calculated for a long time:
"It really is that way! How did you know?"
Seraina’s answer was matter-of-fact. Her slender palm was raised high, her fingertips pale and almost transparent, a flash of light passing by, and Garrett suddenly realized:
"This is dragon scales! Can your scales directly feel it?"
"Of course! All that stuff you mentioned... infrared, ultraviolet, and all sorts of other things, I can feel them all! There’s definitely more than just those types of light in the sunlight!"
Garrett’s heart raced. Radio waves? X-rays? Gamma rays? What kinds of rays could Seraina feel?
In an instant, he thought of countless research papers, seven or eight ways to utterly doom the Radiant Church.
It’s just too bad that these things all required experiments, possible only back in Nevis—now was not the time to turn back immediately—
"Ah, wait, there seems to be a village ahead! Let’s go ask!"
Fortunately, the mountains around Igor Peak, considered the backyard of the Council, were dotted with numerous villages, mage towers, and production bases. It was feasible to ask around to confirm his location.
Garrett stumbled about, asking people everywhere, taking countless detours. Flying a bit, running a bit, then flying again, running again. If he found he had taken a wrong turn, he
could either go back or climb over—
Just fly up with a flying spell, go straight over the mountain. Aim south and keep going; eventually, he would make it out.
Garrett climbed through the mountains for seven days. After seven days, he reached a mountain ridge, and the view suddenly opened up—he couldn’t believe he had actually made it out—
Out of the mountains! Out of the mountains! Ahead, beneath, the land was flat, and from then on, he just needed to sit on Apa and speed straight ahead!
"Yo—ho! Apa! Let’s run!"
The silver moon deer snorted disdainfully. Lowering its head, it nudged Garrett, causing him to stumble.
Garrett looked down at his attire: his coat, a complete mess; his trouser legs, frayed; his shoes, all muddy...
"Cleanse! Cleanse! Cleanse!!!"
Once out of the mountains, the path became easier. Racing straight south across the plains, circumventing mountains, bypassing cities. Traveling by day, setting up a protective shelter at night, he didn’t need to bother finding a place to stay.
So, he sped for three days, from the northern mountainous regions of the Kent Kingdom, across the central plains, down to the southern parts of Newster County, taking a slight detour to Hartland City.
The mountains, rivers, and fields ahead grew more and more familiar. Gradually, he passed roads he had patrolled, cottages where he had treated the sick, and...
The mage tower where he had studied magic.
Garrett grew increasingly silent. He stopped Apa, took a wide detour, and headed towards the city gate. When he could see the city gate, he simply jumped off the deer’s back and slowly walked forward by himself.
Returning home as an adult, the familiar accent unchanged... It wasn’t quite as dramatic as gray hair at the temples. After all, it had only been four years since he left home.
Four years, from a 16-year-old boy to a 20-year-old young man. From a mage apprentice, a priest apprentice, to both a level six priest and mage. He had completed the treatment protocol for patent ductus arteriosus, with animal experiments verified.
When he left, Garrett had set a deadline for himself: to complete it within eight years. If possible, better within five years. But now, he had managed to save an extra year.
A year early meant the disease might not have progressed to a later stage, pulmonary hypertension might not have started, or it might not be severe, there might not have been a reverse shunt, the myocardium might not have been damaged...
It meant treatment was possible, the prognosis would be better, and little Avril could grow up healthy and happy.
Had Uncle Calren’s beard gotten tougher? Had Aunt Eileen gained some weight? Raymond, the guy who danced hand-in-hand with that girl at the Midsummer Festival, they had gotten married the year before last, when would they have a little baby?
Elder Elwin, Bishop Bald, Mage Gelman, Mage Elliott, Little John... the casters who worked in my clinic...
How was everyone doing? I had sent many letters before, and they always said they were doing well, never sharing any difficulties with me...
Garrett walked slowly. Crossing fields, onto the main road, and as he approached the city gate, he suddenly quickened his pace, raising a smiling face:
"Raymond! Vali!—I’m back!!!"
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