Leaving the royal capital of Frostholm behind, Adam traveled south. The snow-capped mountains of the Northern Frost Domain gradually yielded to rolling, sun-drenched hills and ancient, sprawling oak forests.
The climate here was rich with blooming mana, warm, and inviting. Yet, as Adam walked along the paved imperial highway connecting the northern border to the central heartlands, he noticed a subtle, artificial tension in the air.
High above the highway, massive floating eye-crystals enchanted surveillance artifacts operated by the Grand Aetheria Academy hovered in the sky, their blue lenses rotating constantly to monitor travelers.
Adam walked with his usual relaxed stride, his dark hair shifting gently in the spring breeze. He carried no baggage, wore no travel cloak, and possessed no identity token the standard imperial parchment required by all commoners and cultivators moving between territories.
Up ahead, a massive border outpost spanned the narrow pass between two stone cliffs. Steel gates barred the road, flanked by high towers where battle-mages stood watch. Dozens of merchants, mercenary groups, and wandering scholars stood in long, anxious lines, waiting for their identity tokens and magic cores to be appraised by imperial inspectors.
"Next!" a head inspector barked, slamming an ink stamp onto a parchment. "Merchant Guild of the South, cleared. Next! A rogue cultivator? Show your academy license or step into the mana-testing circle!"
Adam approached the back of the line, observing the process with quiet interest. The mortals here did not rely on simple guards; they used complex, automated magic arrays that measured a traveler's mana capacity and elemental affinity down to the exact digit.
A young man standing in front of Adam turned around, wiping sweat from his brow. He wore dusty scholar robes and carried a heavy leather satchel stuffed with ancient rolled scrolls.
"First time entering the Central Heartland, brother?" the young scholar asked, noticing Adam's lack of luggage or travel tokens. "If you don't have a noble crest or an Academy Pass, they're going to put you through the high-tier screening array. It measures your soul-signature to make sure you aren't a spy or a dark cultivator."
Adam looked at the young scholar, sensing no malice or arrogance in his spirit only a pure, restless desire for knowledge.
"I have no pass," Adam replied mildly. "Is passage forbidden without one?"
The scholar sighed, shaking his head. "Forbidden? No, but it's an absolute nightmare. The inspectors are arrogant snobs trained by the Aetheria Academy. If your mana capacity is low, they treat you like dirt. By the way, I'm Julian. I'm traveling to the Grand Library of Aetheria to study pre-collapse history."
"I am Adam," he said smoothly. "I, too, appreciate the keeping of old knowledge."
Before Julian could respond, a sudden commotion erupted at the front of the inspection line.
"Out of the way, peasants!" a loud, arrogant voice echoed across the outpost.
A grand, gilded carriage drawn by four winged pegasi touched down on the stone road, completely bypassing the long line of waiting travelers. Stepping out was a young nobleman clad in glowing white armor embroidered with gold leaf. A rank-six spell-gem sparkled on his chest, and an entourage of four stern arch-mages walked behind him.
"It's Young Master Valen of the House of Astra," Julian whispered nervously, pulling Adam back a step. "His house controls three major crystal mines in the south. He's a top-tier prodigy at the Academy."
Valen strutted toward the main inspection gate, casually tossing a pouch of high-grade spirit stones onto the inspector's desk. "Clear the gate instantly. I have an urgent appointment at the academy council."
The head inspector bowed so low his nose nearly touched the desk. "Right away, Young Master Valen! Clear the lane!"
The inspector gestured for the guards to push back the waiting commoners and scholars. A heavy-handed guard shoved a young merchant girl backward, causing her box of fragile alchemy herbs to crash onto the hard stone, scattering rare leaves everywhere.
Young Master Valen didn't even glance down, stepping casually toward the scattered herbs, his heavy boot aimed right at a rare, century-old spirit flower.
Adam stepped out of the line, stepping directly into Valen's path.
"Watch where you tread," Adam said quietly, his voice cutting clearly through the noisy outpost. "Life and effort were spent gathering those."