Highway Hero 2: A LitRPG Apocalypse Cultivation Fantasy Adventure by Jack Bryce

Author:Jack Bryce [Bryce, Jack]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-10-26T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 23

The tiered tower of the Auspicious Whining Head rose in the distance, a silhouette marked against the rolling clouds of ashes and dust.

Like the other Sacred Sites I had encountered, this tower was an oddity in the post-apocalyptic landscape. Most of all, it appeared as if something came down from another world and landed here, rooting itself to our planet.

Behind me, Loren shifted her weight to study the tiered tower over my shoulders. I felt her grip tighten as she laid eyes on the structure.

“Of the Eight Nomads Brotherhood,” she had told me before we set out, “only Tall Pete ever visited the Auspicious Whining Head. He told none of us why, but he came back even more… fanatic than before.”

I could guess why Tall Pete would have wanted to visit the Auspicious Whining Head. The zealous man had explained to me, before his death, that Willow had foretold him the manner in which he would die. If someone were to tell me something like that, I would make it a priority to get a ‘second opinion’ from another soothsaying power.

Whatever the case, Loren wasn’t eager to visit this place. And rightfully so — like Red Cary’s Lair, Sacred Sites were a mystery and a source of danger to her. Anyone who did not cultivate would pose an easy mark for the Sacred Beasts and Cultivators that made such places their homes.

She is right to be careful.

I eased off the throttle as we neared the tower. Like the other Sacred Sites I had encountered, a boundary formation of flags marked off the area that belonged to this site. Strangely unaffected by the ashes and the dust, the flags were bright blue, snapping in the wind as they were attached to small wooden poles driven into the ground.

If my guess was correct, stepping through the boundary would take us to some parallel plane of existence — like it had when I ventured into Red Cary’s Lair and into the Shadows under Heaven.

With every passing moment, the tower grew clearer. And as a final cloud of dust billowed away on the wind, I saw the tower appeared ramshackle at best. It looked like someone had hammered together planks of a hundred different kinds and a hundred different sizes. The result was an unstable structure that — by rights — should have collapsed the moment it was completed.

And each board was painted in a different color. On some of them, the paint had flaked away to reveal the bare wood underneath, but the colors still dazzled and overwhelmed the eyes. Combined with the tower’s dizzying height and the maddening variety in architectural styles, the effect was an unearthly one.

Loren remained tense behind me, telling me that the place did little to put her at ease either.

But this is where we must go.

I found a small formation of rocks and boulders that allowed me to park the Softail out of sight of anyone who might monitor the location from a distance or pass by.

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