I unleashed my Raging Dragon Slash. A figure soared into the air, sending a deep azure surge of Dou Qi toward a distant hill.

With a tremendous roar, the hill, easily ten meters high, was leveled, as if it had never existed.

The figure landed, shouting with elation, "Hah! I succeeded! I've finally reached the rank of Great Swordsman!"

This man was Chen Mohan, two years into his journey in this other realm.

As he touched the ground, perhaps due to his practice of Dou Qi and magic, his face seemed imbued with a deeper masculinity; the lines of his jaw were resolute, his black eyes as deep as the starlit void, and coupled with his towering physique, he radiated an indescribable allure.

After two years of ascetic cultivation, both his Dou Qi and magic had reached the level of Archmage and Great Swordsman, a feat largely attributable to his peculiar constitution, as many never attained such heights in their entire lives.

It was time to leave this isolated place and see the wider world, Chen Mohan mused. He cast a final glance at the sanctuary of the past two years, packed a few essential supplies, turned resolutely, and cast the Flight spell to depart the island.

As he left the shore, he felt a resistance, like being caught in a net, but through sheer force of magical exertion, he ripped free of the restraint and soared eastward toward the Dragon Soaring Continent.

After a full day of flying, during which Mohan paused briefly on a small islet to rest, he finally spotted the shadow of land.

Seeing this, a surge of joy filled Mohan. He immediately urged his magic forward, increasing his speed toward the mainland, and in a short time, he descended into a dense thicket of trees along the coast.

After a period of recuperation, Mohan retrieved the dwindling supplies of food and water from his spatial ring, ate his fill, and then leaped onto an ancient tree. There, he cast a Light and Shadow Barrier around himself, and concurrently pulled a set of white garments from the spatial ring. Mohan wasn't sure of their origin—they were clothes Mo Xiuyi had found within—but he changed into them and settled down to meditate, as the continuous flight had utterly drained his magic and Dou Qi; he needed to recover quickly to face any unforeseen dangers.

After an indeterminate amount of time, Mohan had largely recovered. He jumped down from the tree, stretched languidly, and sighed contentedly, "This is pleasant. The air here is far more refreshing than on Earth."

Finishing his thought, Mohan glanced at the sky and spoke to himself, "It's already noon. I need to hurry away from here, or night will fall."

He then set his direction.

Engaging his Dou Qi, he moved forward at a rapid pace.

Driven by the swift surge of his Dou Qi, the surrounding trees blurred past him in retreat, and soon he arrived at the entrance to a village, forcing Mohan to immediately slow his momentum.

Upon reaching the junction, Mohan noticed a crowd gathered there, clearly engaged in a heated argument.

Curiosity piqued, Mohan approached and saw a contingent of about a hundred soldiers confronting a small group of mercenaries. As he drew near, he overheard a middle-aged man pleading, "Lord Morte, you know the harvest was poor this year. We truly have no surplus grain left. If we give you more, the people in our village will starve."

A man of similar age in the soldier contingent replied with visible difficulty, "I know, but the Lord has given strict orders to bring back the required tax, one way or another. Otherwise, I will face severe punishment as well."

Mohan used the opportunity to observe the mercenaries closely. This was his first time seeing the mercenaries Mo Xiuyi had spoken of. There were five of them in total: three men and two women. One of the women was actually a Sylph. Judging by her features, she was quite young, and indeed, as his master had described, elves were born beauties. This Sylph had flowing blue hair, delicately pointed ears, and luminous, large eyes, complemented by snow-white skin—she was clearly a natural beauty, and with the inherently perfect physique of the elves, an absolute stunner.

On the Sylph’s back was a bow and quiver. Mohan knew that elves were born master archers; their eyesight and accuracy were beyond human comparison.

Next to the elf stood a blonde woman dressed in tight-fitting warrior gear. Pinned to her chest was an E-rank insignia, denoting the mercenary group's standing. Below that insignia was another badge indicating her specific class rank, which Mohan instantly recognized, thanks to Mo Xiuyi's explanations, as the mark of a High Warrior.

The blonde woman's water-blue, skin-tight warrior attire perfectly showcased her flawless figure—neither an inch too much nor too little—and this, combined with her composed yet incomparably beautiful face, created a unique aura that instantly captivated Mohan.

Beside her stood a warrior gripping a knight's sword. He was decent looking, but his arrogant expression immediately put Mohan on edge. Pinned to his chest was the insignia of a Novice Swordsman.

The remaining two were a warrior and a mage. The warrior towered nearly three meters tall, carrying a pair of enormous axes strapped to his back. His massive musculature clearly marked him as a strength-focused fighter. The mage, however, clutched a worn staff, his gaze fixed warily on the soldiers.

Just then, the Sylph among the mercenaries spoke up, her voice sharp. "What kind of Lord do you serve, treating the people of your own domain like this? Stealing all their grain—what are they supposed to eat? I say your Lord is a shameless villain!"

Hearing the Sylph's words, the faces of the soldiers instantly darkened.

The middle-aged man, Morte, spoke with a grave voice, "Little girl, I see you are still a child, so I won't argue with you. But if you continue to interfere here, do not blame me for being impolite."

At Morte's warning, the blonde woman quickly stopped the Sylph, who was about to speak further, and said calmly, "Sir, we are not trying to oppose you, but these villagers are truly pitiable. We merely happened upon their plight. We only hope you can show leniency and grant them a way to live."

Morte managed a wry smile. "Do you think I don't know that? I argued with the City Lord myself, but he is utterly determined to collect the rent. I have no recourse, and I was even reprimanded for it."

Hearing Morte’s response, the warrior with the knight's sword spoke coldly, "Who knows if you are telling the truth or lying? Perhaps you are in league with them to exploit the people."

Morte's face changed drastically at the knight's accusation. "What kind of thing are you, to speak to me like that? Do you wish to make an enemy of the Empire?" As the knight prepared to retort, the blonde woman interjected sharply, "Latin, shut your mouth! Stop causing trouble here."

She then turned back to Morte, saying, "I apologize, sir. My group member has offended you. I offer my apologies, but is there truly no other way to resolve this?"