Everyone in the carriage was quiet and tried to mind their own business as much as possible in their own little groups. For the next eight to ten hours, he was going to be stuck in this carriage. It was too bumpy to cultivate spirit energy or Qi, and training skills wasn't a good idea in these cramped quarters. The only options he had were look out the windows at the trees as they flashed by, or to try and sleep. Watching the trees became very boring, very quickly.
Xavier released First from his soul orb to guard him as he tried to sleep. None of these people looked like they would or even could cause him trouble, but after a lifetime of being hunted and being at war, it was far better to be over cautious than be sorry.
The bumping motion of the carriage made it hard to feel like sleeping, but as time went by the motion became a fuzzy comfort and he slowly lost conscious. While he slept, he had dreams of being on a boat, and the carriages bumps were transformed into waves rocking the boat. This led to a feeling Xavier was familiar with, seasickness. He never like boats, the first boat he had traveled on was the ship to the mainland, and he spent the entire journey sick. This led him to be the laughingstock of the ship's crew and few cultivators heading to the mainland. After some time, he started to feel nauseous in the dream and woke up feeling ill. Only feeling better after taking many deep breaths.
Boats made him sick, and carriages were too slow for his liking. If given the choice he would prefer to fly to the hunting grounds. But his cultivation was nowhere near strong enough to fly on his own power, and while flying treasures were easy to find and buy on the mainland, they were all but impossible to find here. If he wanted to use a flying treasure anytime soon, he would need to make it himself. This would be a daunting task, especially with the idea he had, but it was doable. The more he thought about making a flying treasure, the more the annoyances of the long carriage ride faded from his thoughts.
In his mind he began to construct the very ornate flying treasure he had thought up. It would require a large amount of bones, blood, and souls to complete. It would also require him to inscribe a great number of runes and arrays on the various parts. But if everything went as he planned at the hunting grounds, he would have an excess of blood and bones and should have enough souls. Xavier kept refining the design in his mind until he was awoken from his thoughts by the carriage coming to a stop. They had arrived at the first way station; he had been caught up in his own little world that the sun had set, and hours had disappeared.
After waiting for those in front of him to step off the carriage, it was finally his turn. The warm stale air of the carriage was replaced with a fridged cold wind that smelled of wood smoke and a hint of feces. The carriage he had arrived on had stopped near several over carriages, and the way station workers were tending to their maintenance, which included cleaning out the shit barrel from the carriage's so-called restroom. In a few moments the faint hint of feces soon became a strong overwhelming stench, that quickly drove all the passengers towards the inn.
it was his third time being here, the first would be a couple years from now on his first mission for the cult after graduating from training. The second time was forty something years from now, just after he became a cultivator, he had walked through the burned-out ruins of this way station on his way to the hunting grounds. As for this third time, all he wanted to do was eat a bowl of pork stew and spend the night in his room cultivating.
"Room 47, up the stairs and to the left, next."
When he entered the inn, he was handed a key and given a room number. And while the others headed to their rooms to store their luggage, Xavier had no luggage, he had all his belongings in his storage bags. He decided to head next door to the tavern and get some food. There were about a dozen people in the tavern, one person behind the bar, two women who looked like servers, and the rest were eating. It was too early, in an hour or two this tavern would be filled with people, loud badly played music would fill the air and women offering their bodies for coin would be plying their trade. But he preferred it this way, less chances he would get distracted by unnecessary diversions, and far less chance his belongings going missing.
One of the servers came to him when he sat down and asked what he wanted. He ordered two bowls of pork stew, some bread, and something to drink. A few minutes later two bowls of stew with a pat of butter melting in them, a plate with half a loaf of bread, and a mug of milk had been delivered to him. Xavier wasted no time and began to rip chunks of bread to dip in the melted butter in the stew, as soon as the bread was gone, he used a spoon to shovel stew into his mouth. Last to disappear into in stomach was the mug of milk, he would have preferred whiskey, but to everyone else he was a twelve-year-old, and twelve-year-olds don't get to drink whiskey. Leaving a few silver coins for his meal, went to his room.
The room wasn't that big, it had a bed and just enough for people to store their luggage, but it was free with the carriage ticket. There were bigger rooms that came with different amenities, but those cost extra and depending on the amenities a lot more. All he wanted was to cultivate for a while and then sleep till the morning. Releasing one of the ghosts from their spirit orb to guard him, he began cultivating his spirit energy then his Qi. When he was done, he went to sleep and was woken up by banging noise going up and done the hallway outside his room. When the banging was done a voice repeated that the carriages would leave in an hour and that everyone should get some breakfast and be prepared to board their carriages.
Getting up and recalling the little ghost to his soul orb, he felt a small temptation to crawl back into bed and sleep but got up anyway. Leaving his room, he saw the other guests struggle with their belongings, and the parents trying to get their little children to do as they were told instead of running around as they pleased. The tavern was handing out plates with a couple of eggs, several fried pork bits, and slices of butter fried bread for breakfast. With the exception that everything tasted like pork, the food wasn't bad. After eating, he boarded the carriage, he just needed to get through one more long boring day to get to the hunting grounds.