《Re cultivation:To Immortality》 Chapter:1 The streetlights flickered on as James walked down the quiet sidewalk, his shoulders hunched under the weight of a long day. At 25, he felt older than his years, burdened by the dull routine of his job, the mounting pile of unfulfilled dreams, and the nagging sense that he was just getting by rather than truly living. The cool night air stung his cheeks, reminding him he¡¯d forgotten his jacket¡ªagain. He glanced at his watch, the one his mother had given him before she passed, and felt a pang of regret. His life was a cycle of days blending together, each one feeling more pointless than the last. But tonight, for reasons he couldn¡¯t explain, he felt a strange sense of finality. As he approached the crosswalk, he paused, waiting for the signal to turn. The faint hum of traffic seemed distant, almost peaceful. That¡¯s when he saw it¡ªa truck barreling down the street, its headlights bearing down on him. It happened in a flash. The truck¡¯s brakes screeched, but it was too late. James felt a massive force collide with him, sending him spinning into darkness. The pain was sharp and blinding, then dull and strangely distant, as though he was floating outside his body, observing the chaos from afar. As he lay on the cold pavement, everything around him blurred. He vaguely heard voices, frantic and desperate, but they sounded far away. His vision dimmed, and he became acutely aware of how fragile life was, of all the things he hadn¡¯t done. ¡°Is this it?¡± he thought, a strange calm settling over him. ¡°Is this really¡­ the end?¡± A sudden peace enveloped him. The pain, the regrets, the endless grind¡ªall of it slipped away. The voices faded, and he sank into the darkness, ready to let go. Time was meaningless in that void. He drifted, feeling neither alive nor dead, as though he existed in a state of limbo. Then, slowly, something pulled him back, a bright light that pierced the darkness and drew him toward it. He felt warmth, comfort, and a strange sense of belonging. And then¡­ A piercing cry shattered the silence. The world around him was unfamiliar, and his senses felt heightened, yet¡­ restricted. A rush of warmth, and a soft blanket wrapped around him, cocooned him in comfort. His eyes blinked open, though everything was blurred and strange.The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. He was lying in someone¡¯s arms. The scent of lavender and some kind of sweet herbal aroma filled his nostrils. He tried to move his arms and legs, only to realize he couldn¡¯t. His limbs felt tiny and weak, his body strangely¡­ small. ¡°Is this¡­ am I¡­ a baby?¡± The thought was absurd, yet undeniable. From the corner of his vision, he could make out a woman¡¯s face, her eyes filled with warmth and pride. She spoke softly, her voice lilting in a language he didn¡¯t understand, yet he could sense the affection in her tone. James¡¯s mind spun as he struggled to make sense of his new surroundings. Tiny limbs, barely able to move, strange sensations, and the warmth of being held close by someone who exuded a gentle, protective presence¡ªit was all surreal. A pair of large, dark eyes gazed down at him with an intensity he could only describe as motherly. Her voice was soft, almost musical, though the words were utterly foreign to him. But there was one word she kept repeating, a sound that seemed to have a special significance. Whenever she spoke it, her eyes softened, and she would gently touch his chest or pat his tiny hand. "Arlan," she murmured again, smiling down at him. The name carried warmth, perhaps love, and a hint of pride. James¡ªor Arlan, as she called him¡ªbegan to realize that this was what she had named him in this new life. Next, a deeper voice entered the scene. James looked up to see a towering figure¡ªa man with a thick beard and fierce, piercing eyes. His posture was authoritative, exuding power. He spoke in the same unfamiliar language, his tone steady and resolute. As he spoke, he motioned to James, and from his expression, James sensed something beyond fatherly pride. This man was assessing him, not just as a child, but as someone who would carry on¡­ something important. James couldn¡¯t understand a word, but he caught snippets that repeated¡ªsomething that sounded like ¡°baron¡± and another word that might have been the family¡¯s name. His mind worked to connect the dots, though he was little more than a helpless infant. As his new father gazed down at him, James noticed that the man wore an ornate crest on his robe¡ªa symbol of status, perhaps? This room, with its stone walls, tapestries, and ancient furniture, felt like something from a time long past. He realized that his new parents were likely nobility, and whatever family he had been born into was a far cry from his ordinary life on Earth. The woman¡ªhis mother, he supposed¡ªshifted him in her arms, murmuring soft words that he didn¡¯t understand, yet he felt comforted. As she hummed a lullaby, he let himself relax, surrendering to the strange new sensations and sounds around him. So, my name is Arlan, he thought, his mind swimming with the surreal wonder of it all. And this time, I am someone different. In his last waking moments, he caught a glimpse of his new father¡¯s face, proud and watchful, before drifting into a deep, dreamless sleep. (End of the Chapter). Chapter:2 Two months had passed since Arlan¡¯s rebirth, and though he was still an infant, his mind¡ªthanks to his memories from his previous life¡ªwas far from typical. At first, everything had been a blur of light, warmth, and muffled sounds. But as his senses sharpened, he began to notice details in his environment that hinted at something far beyond the mundane life he had once known on Earth. The stone walls of his nursery were adorned with tapestries depicting strange beasts and warriors wielding glowing swords. He¡¯d heard words he couldn¡¯t understand, but with time, he¡¯d started to pick up basic tones and patterns. Even though he was physically helpless, his mind grew sharper every day, cataloging everything he saw and heard. One day, as he lay on his small, ornate cradle, a maid entered the room¡ªa young woman who moved with the practiced grace of someone used to hard work. She gave him a kind smile, muttering something he couldn¡¯t understand, and went about her duties. Then, something extraordinary happened. Arlan watched with wide eyes as the maid lifted her hand over a dusty shelf. She whispered a single word¡ª¡°Clean.¡± Instantly, a shimmer of energy rippled from her fingers, and the dust vanished, leaving the shelf spotless. She moved her hand in a small, practiced motion, muttering the word again as she turned her attention to the floor, where a similar glimmer swept away the dirt and grime. Arlan¡¯s tiny heart pounded with excitement. Magic. Real, actual magic. His mind raced, replaying the scene. She hadn¡¯t done anything strenuous or complicated; it had been a simple word, spoken with intention, and the room had responded. As she continued, Arlan¡¯s wonder only grew. He¡¯d known magic from books and movies in his former life, but seeing it here¡ªfeeling the energy in the air as the word summoned action¡ªmade him realize just how different this world was from Earth. I¡¯m in a world where magic is real, he thought, a thrill of excitement and curiosity sparking within him. How is this possible? Over the next few weeks, Arlan became more observant, eager to piece together the nature of his new family and their place in this magical world. From the hushed conversations he overheard between the servants, he picked up key words and names, repeating them in his mind until they started to take shape in his understanding. One word he heard often was ¡°Baron,¡± usually spoken with a hint of respect and deference. He began to understand that his father held a title, one that carried weight and authority. Gradually, he deduced that his family was part of the nobility in this land. They referred to his father as ¡°Baron¡± and seemed to treat him with a respect that bordered on reverence.Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author. It wasn¡¯t long before he overheard something even more intriguing: ¡°Kingdom of Diamond.¡± The maids and attendants spoke of the ¡°Kingdom of Diamond¡± in tones of loyalty and pride. His father was a baron here, and from the few hints he could piece together, Arlan realized that he himself was an only child, the sole heir to whatever influence and power his family held. The concept of lineage and inheritance wasn¡¯t lost on him, even as a baby. It was a new identity to adjust to¡ªone that came with responsibilities and expectations that were far different from the ordinary life he¡¯d known before. So, I¡¯m the son of a baron in a kingdom where magic exists, he thought, lying in his cradle as he processed the implications of his new life. With this knowledge came a growing fascination with the magic he observed around him. The servants seemed to use it casually, as if it were as natural as breathing. He¡¯d seen others beside the maid use simple spells to aid their tasks, whether it was lighting candles with a flick of the wrist or calling for water with a soft incantation. Yet he noticed that only some of the household staff seemed capable of performing these spells. There were certain individuals who, despite their duties, never attempted any magic. Arlan noted this, his young mind wondering if magic was something not everyone could access or if it required special training. As the days passed, he realized he was absorbing knowledge at a rapid rate. His past experiences as an adult helped him make sense of things that might have confused any other child, and he became adept at piecing together context from snippets of conversation and observations. In his quiet moments, he started to dream about what lay beyond the walls of the baron¡¯s estate. What kinds of creatures and mysteries filled this world? And, more pressingly, would he himself have the ability to use magic someday? One evening, as Arlan lay quietly, his father entered the nursery. The baron was an imposing man, broad-shouldered and dignified, with a look of fierce pride and determination in his eyes. He picked up Arlan, holding him up as he examined him with an intensity that Arlan had come to expect. The baron spoke to him in that deep, resonant voice, and though Arlan couldn¡¯t understand all of it, he sensed the importance behind the words. He felt the weight of his father¡¯s expectations pressing on him, a subtle but unmistakable promise that he would one day carry the family¡¯s legacy forward. In that moment, he realized that his life here wasn¡¯t just a second chance. He had been given a role, one with weight and meaning. There was a legacy to uphold, a path to carve out, and possibly, a future where he could learn to wield the very magic he saw around him. As his father set him back down and left the room, Arlan gazed up at the ceiling, his mind brimming with possibilities. His old life on Earth had been ordinary, filled with dreams that never came to fruition. But here, he had the chance to be someone different, someone powerful. If magic is real¡­ what else is possible in this world? And with that thought, he drifted off to sleep, eager for the possibilities that awaited him in this strange, enchanted life. (End of the Chapter). Chapter:3 The Kingdom of Diamond was in a state of cautious anticipation, with rumors of strained relations with the neighboring Kingdom of Creed growing louder by the day. Arlan, of course, only picked up fragmented whispers¡ªstray words caught in passing, tense glances shared between the staff, and brief, serious conversations held behind closed doors. But even at two months old, he could sense an unspoken heaviness settling over his home. The Kingdom of Creed was mentioned in the same way one might speak of a shadow on the horizon, a distant storm that everyone hoped would pass but none could ignore. It was a land known for its disciplined soldiers and formidable magical prowess, and the people of Diamond, though loyal and proud, couldn¡¯t help but wonder what a clash between the two kingdoms might bring. Baron Aldric Roquefort, head of House Roquefort and Arlan¡¯s father, was often summoned to the capital for meetings with the king and his councilors. Arlan could see the toll it took on his father, who would return from each trip with a more serious look in his eye. Though Arlan couldn¡¯t understand the words, he picked up on the heavy atmosphere that seemed to cling to his father¡¯s shoulders, as if every meeting brought with it a burden he alone had to bear. Despite his responsibilities and the growing tensions, Baron Roquefort would always find time for his son. These moments were the baron¡¯s solace¡ªa brief reprieve from his duties and the ever-present worries of potential war. Arlan became aware that, to his father, he was more than just an heir; he was a spark of hope, a future worth fighting for. Every afternoon, when the baron returned from his duties, he would come to the nursery and scoop up Arlan with surprising gentleness. Arlan couldn¡¯t understand the language yet, but he felt the warmth in his father¡¯s voice as he murmured words of encouragement, his tone carrying a mixture of pride, hope, and affection. ¡°Arlan, my boy,¡± the baron would say, lifting him high with a small, rare smile. ¡°You may not understand me now, but someday you¡¯ll grow into a man who will lead this house¡ªour family, our people. I know you¡¯ll be strong.¡± Arlan gazed up at his father, his young mind recognizing the intent, even if the words were foreign. There was something powerful in the way the baron looked at him¡ªa conviction that ran deep, as though he saw in Arlan the potential to carry on the family¡¯s legacy. And even though Arlan was still an infant, he felt a spark of determination awaken within him. He wasn¡¯t just a child; he is the future of House Roquefort. The baron, though gruff and somewhat formal with his subjects, was surprisingly gentle with his son. He would carry Arlan around the manor¡¯s gardens, showing him the blooming flowers, the majestic trees, and the rolling hills that stretched beyond the estate¡¯s borders. Sometimes, he would bring Arlan to the stables, introducing him to the family¡¯s prized horses, patting their strong necks as he spoke softly.Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. ¡°This will all be yours one day, Arlan,¡± he would say, pointing toward the land. ¡°Every inch of it, every person who works this soil¡ªthey¡¯ll look to you. So, remember, strength is not only in the sword but in the heart. A true leader protects his people.¡± In these moments, Arlan felt an odd sense of responsibility. His father¡¯s words and gestures, though beyond his full understanding, gave him glimpses of the future waiting for him. He was more than just a child in this life; he was a son of the baron, with a legacy and duty ahead of him. Arlan would reach out, tiny hands grasping at his father¡¯s robes, as though he wanted to reassure the baron that he understood, that he would be ready one day. The baron¡¯s smile would soften, and he would stroke Arlan¡¯s hair, murmuring words of encouragement and pride. One evening, after a particularly long day, the baron sat beside Arlan¡¯s cradle, a weariness in his eyes that only Arlan seemed to notice. He gazed down at his son, his expression softened, and though Arlan couldn¡¯t comprehend everything, he felt the weight of his father¡¯s hopes. ¡°Arlan,¡± he said softly, his voice barely more than a murmur, ¡°I know you can¡¯t understand this yet, but one day you will. One day, when I¡¯m no longer here, you¡¯ll stand in my place, and you¡¯ll need to be stronger than I ever was. You¡¯re my only son, my heir¡­ and everything I fight for now is to ensure you have a future.¡± There was a long pause as the baron sighed, reaching a hand down to clasp Arlan¡¯s tiny fingers. ¡°The world is not always kind, my son. The Kingdom of Creed looms close, and there may come a day when you¡¯ll have to defend all we hold dear. I pray that I¡¯ll still be here to teach you when that time comes.¡± Arlan could only stare up at his father, feeling the unspoken weight behind the words. Though he was only an infant, he recognized that his father¡¯s love was not just tender but fierce¡ªa love that was ready to shield him from harm, a love that would fight to the last breath to secure his future. The baron¡¯s gaze lingered on him, the edges of his eyes crinkling with a quiet pride, and for a fleeting moment, he seemed less like a warrior or a noble and more like a father¡ªone who saw his own dreams and aspirations reflected in his son. After a few quiet moments, the baron leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to Arlan¡¯s forehead. ¡°I¡¯ll teach you everything I know, Arlan. You¡¯ll learn to wield a sword, to command respect, and perhaps, with time, even to use magic as I do.¡± He raised a hand, and a faint, glowing light flickered at his fingertips before disappearing. Arlan¡¯s eyes widened, his heart racing at the sight. So, his father could use magic as well. The realization filled him with both excitement and a strange sense of responsibility. His father was not only a baron, not only his protector, but a wielder of magic¡ªa power that Arlan hoped he might someday inherit. Baron Roquefort sat with him for a while longer, his gaze thoughtful as he watched his son. Then, with a final, reassuring smile, he rose, leaving Arlan to drift into sleep. (End of the Chapter). Chapter:4 The days slipped by quickly, and at six months old, Arlan Roquefort¡¯s awareness had blossomed far beyond that of a typical infant. His memories from his past life sharpened his understanding, and his surroundings had become more familiar. He¡¯d picked up on the meanings of words, grasping the language with surprising ease, though he kept this knowledge hidden from his caretakers. Each conversation, each whispered worry, gradually pieced together the situation within his family and the kingdom he now called home. Arlan had begun to understand his mother and father¡¯s roles, and even as a child, he couldn¡¯t ignore the turmoil his new family faced. Early one morning, Arlan¡¯s mother, Lady Elara, cradled him in her arms, rocking him gently after feeding him. Her presence was warm, her voice a soft melody as she murmured to him. While he appreciated the gentleness and the love that radiated from her, his pride felt constantly bruised by the realities of being a baby. After a while, Lady Elara handed him over to the maid, who had become a familiar figure to Arlan over the months. She hummed a tune as she prepared to clean him. Unlike his former life on Earth, there were no diapers in this world. Instead, a quick magical incantation, as simple as a word or two, would take care of the mess. She raised her hand, said, ¡°Clean,¡± and with a small pulse of energy, everything unpleasant vanished in an instant. Arlan fought a sigh. The indignity of it stung. I was an adult once, he thought, suppressing his irritation. I had a career, responsibilities, and I could take care of myself. And now I have to endure¡­ this. Still, he reminded himself that it was only a phase, and he¡¯d outgrow it soon enough. For now, he endured, focusing instead on absorbing as much as he could about this world and his new life. The moments of helplessness were just temporary setbacks. Lately, Arlan had noticed the absence of his father, Baron Aldric Roquefort, more acutely than ever. In the past two months, Aldric¡¯s visits had dwindled, with his appearances reduced to twice a month at best. Even then, he was never quite the same. The baron¡¯s strong and steady presence had been Arlan¡¯s earliest memory, a constant in this new life. Yet now, when Aldric did return, his face was shadowed by worry, and his strong frame seemed slightly bowed by an unseen weight. Arlan¡¯s mother, Lady Elara, too, seemed changed. She carried a worried look in her eyes, one that softened only when she held Arlan, though her distant gaze often betrayed her concerns. As she¡¯d hold him close, her murmurs would drift into faint whispers about the kingdom, the unrest brewing, and her hopes that peace would prevail. She often fell silent midway, though, leaving her thoughts unspoken. From her, Arlan had heard of the Kingdom of Creed. He understood now that Creed was more than just a distant land; it was an ever-present threat, a shadow on the horizon that grew darker each day. The kingdom¡¯s forces were formidable, and its alliances stretched farther than Arlan had first realized. The tension between Diamond and Creed was old, rooted in past grievances and power struggles, and now it seemed to be rekindling, as though destiny had chosen his generation to continue the battle.The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation. One evening, as he lay in his cradle after a long day of observing the household, Arlan¡¯s thoughts lingered on his family. Lady Elara¡¯s soft smile, her protective warmth, and Aldric¡¯s proud gaze flashed through his mind. Despite the inconvenience and frustrations of his current state, he realized that this family had become precious to him. Lady Elara¡¯s love was real, and Aldric¡¯s rare visits and proud glances reminded Arlan that his father¡¯s heart held high hopes for him. They are my family now, he thought, a strange, fierce emotion welling up inside him. And if there¡¯s anything I can do to protect them, I¡¯ll do it. The realization filled him with a sense of purpose he hadn¡¯t felt in his past life. His existence had been largely ordinary before¡ªhe¡¯d never felt any great calling or motivation to protect something as monumental as a kingdom. But now, even though he was still a child in this world, he felt the stirrings of ambition. From that moment on, Arlan¡¯s resolve solidified. He would make sure to grow stronger, to understand more about this world, its magic, and its history. And when the time came, he would be ready to protect his family, and perhaps, even the Kingdom of Diamond itself. In the weeks that followed, Arlan immersed himself in the study of his surroundings. Every time Lady Elara or the servants conversed, he paid close attention, piecing together conversations, learning words, and picking up nuances of the language. By six months, he could understand most of what was said around him, though he made sure to keep his comprehension hidden. Occasionally, he¡¯d catch snippets of Aldric¡¯s conversations with other men who bore the same serious expressions. There were words he didn¡¯t fully understand yet¡ªmentions of alliances, defenses, and strategies. He gathered that Diamond¡¯s military was on high alert, that the king himself had ordered additional patrols along the borders. The kingdom seemed to be bracing itself for the possibility of conflict. The idea of war left him uneasy, but it also fueled his determination. He wanted to be prepared, to grow strong enough to stand beside his father someday. And though it was still a long way off, he had a feeling he would need to understand the magic he¡¯d seen in this world if he hoped to make a difference. One evening, Lady Elara held Arlan as she watched the setting sun from the window. The colors painted across the sky were vivid, a tapestry of purples and oranges blending over the horizon. Arlan could feel her concern, her heartbeat steady yet filled with worry as she cradled him close. She stroked his hair gently, whispering, ¡°My sweet boy¡­ so much rests on your shoulders already, even if you don¡¯t understand it yet. I just wish we lived in a world without all this turmoil. But you¡­ you are my hope.¡± The words stirred something deep within Arlan. He looked up at her, his tiny hand reaching up to touch her cheek. Her smile softened as she held his hand, pressing it lightly against her face. Even though she didn¡¯t know that he understood, he wanted to let her know that he was there, that he would do his best to be the son she hoped for. As the sun dipped below the horizon, he made a quiet promise to himself: I will protect them. I will become someone who can stand beside my family and defend them, no matter the cost. End of Chapter. Chapter:5 As Arlan turned one, the household buzzed with a mixture of pride and joy. He¡¯d been growing fast¡ªhis observations sharp, his understanding keen. But recently, he¡¯d unlocked something that delighted everyone in the manor: he¡¯d started to speak. It wasn¡¯t perfect; his words were short, and sentences were difficult for him to form, but he could string together two or more words at a time. Each time he spoke, he brought a fresh wave of joy to his mother and the household staff, who marveled at his progress. Early one morning, Arlan sat on the nursery floor, stacking wooden blocks as his mother, Lady Elara, watched him with a tender smile. She seemed lighter, her eyes brighter each time he managed to say something new. She crouched beside him, holding a new block to add to his tower. ¡°Can you say ¡®Mama¡¯?¡± she asked softly, the warmth in her voice unmistakable. Arlan looked up, his small lips forming the word carefully. ¡°Mama.¡± He beamed at her, pleased with himself, and her laughter rang out, filling the nursery with warmth. She gently hugged him, whispering, ¡°You bring so much joy to us, Arlan.¡± Her fingers stroked his hair, a gesture he¡¯d come to associate with comfort and safety. He attempted another phrase, though his voice wobbled. ¡°Good¡­ Mama.¡± A smile spread across her face, bright as the morning sun, as she held him close. Each new word he spoke seemed to ease her worries, lifting some invisible burden from her heart. Arlan didn¡¯t fully understand yet, but he sensed that his small efforts brought her a measure of peace, especially in his father¡¯s absence. Despite her pride in her son¡¯s growth, Lady Elara¡¯s thoughts were often preoccupied with her husband, Baron Aldric. The recent conflicts with the Kingdom of Creed weighed on her, but as the daughter of a noble house herself, she understood the delicate balance of loyalty and pride that held their family together. She was the daughter of a count, her elder brother now the head of their house, a man who had offered his assistance when tensions with Creed had first started to rise. ¡°Let me send you men and supplies, Elara,¡± her brother had said the last time he visited. ¡°Aldric is carrying this burden alone, and there is no shame in family supporting family.¡± But Elara had refused, her head held high. She knew that asking for her brother¡¯s aid might suggest to the nobility that her husband, a baron, couldn¡¯t hold his own in protecting his lands and family. And Aldric¡¯s pride, along with his reputation, was essential for the respect he commanded. ¡°Thank you, but I¡¯ll wait until it¡¯s necessary,¡± she had told her brother with a gentle smile. ¡°Aldric is capable, and there is no war yet. I would rather you save your strength for when it¡¯s truly needed.¡±This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. Yet, as much as she tried to reassure herself, her husband¡¯s prolonged absences left a lingering worry. He was constantly stationed at the border, managing security, planning strategies, and preparing for whatever Creed might bring. His duties were honorable, but they kept him far from home. She missed him deeply, and each day she prayed for his safety and swift return. What Elara didn¡¯t know was that Aldric¡¯s mind wasn¡¯t only on the conflict with Creed. He was preparing something else, a plan to help his son reach his full potential. Though Arlan was only a year old, Aldric had already begun thinking of his future as the heir to House Roquefort. He wanted to ensure Arlan had every advantage, every strength, to face the challenges that awaited him. Among the many pieces of lore passed down through noble families, there was one ancient technique for children born to noble bloodlines, designed to enhance their mana channels from a young age. The ritual was known as the Medicated Bath of Vitality, a painstaking process that required rare ingredients and monsters found in the wildlands near the border. Aldric had left word with a trusted scout to search for the necessary ingredients, which included potent herbs, monster scales, and stones rich in elemental energy. Only with these components could the medicated bath be properly prepared. Once the scout had everything, Aldric intended to start the ritual, bathing Arlan once a month until he turned five. This would help widen his mana channels, smoothing their flow and allowing him to grow with enhanced magical capacity. The ritual was risky, but Aldric was determined to give his son every advantage. He¡¯d seen Creed¡¯s military strength firsthand, knew of their skill with both blade and magic. His heart swelled with a fierce determination whenever he thought of Arlan, his young son¡¯s bright eyes, and the curiosity he already showed. If Arlan were to inherit the barony one day, he¡¯d need to be strong, resilient, and ready for anything. Meanwhile, back at the manor, Lady Elara busied herself with her duties, doing everything in her power to ensure that Arlan felt loved and protected. On a quiet afternoon, she took him for a walk in the garden, holding his hand as he toddled along the stone paths. Arlan glanced up at her, his young mind beginning to understand the sadness he sometimes glimpsed in her eyes. As they strolled, she spoke softly to him, her voice tinged with hope. ¡°One day, your father will be here to see you like this,¡± she murmured, almost as if reassuring herself. ¡°He¡¯s out there keeping us safe, Arlan. But you, my sweet boy, are his greatest treasure.¡± ¡°Papa¡­¡± Arlan said, stumbling over the word. Elara¡¯s eyes widened, and she knelt down beside him, her face filled with joy and surprise. ¡°Yes, Papa,¡± she said softly, brushing his cheek. ¡°He¡¯ll be home soon.¡± Arlan repeated it, feeling the weight of the word and the pride his mother¡¯s reaction brought. ¡°Papa¡­ safe.¡± Elara blinked, her surprise deepening. Though his words were simple, they were laced with understanding. She gathered him into her arms, pressing a kiss to his head, her heart swelling with love and relief. Even in his limited vocabulary, he was trying to console her, and she marveled at how much he already understood. Late one evening, just as the household was beginning to settle, the sound of hooves echoed through the courtyard. Lady Elara rushed to the window, her heart leaping as she recognized Aldric¡¯s familiar silhouette dismounting from his horse. Though he looked exhausted, his eyes held a steely resolve, as if his journey had strengthened his dedication to his family. Elara gathered Arlan and hurried to greet him. As Aldric stepped inside, Arlan reached out his arms, the word tumbling out excitedly, ¡°Papa!¡± Aldric¡¯s stern expression softened instantly, his pride and love clear as he took his son in his arms. He held Arlan close, a rare smile breaking across his face. ¡°Arlan,¡± he murmured, his voice warm with affection. ¡°You¡¯re growing quickly, aren¡¯t you?¡± Elara watched the two of them, a peace settling over her heart as she saw her family together once more. Aldric looked at her, and she could see in his gaze the weight of all his responsibilities¡ªbut also the unwavering love he held for her and their child. ¡°I have plans for him, Elara,¡± he said softly, his eyes reflecting the strength of his resolve. ¡°I¡¯ll make sure he¡¯s ready for whatever comes.¡± Elara nodded, understanding what he couldn¡¯t fully say. They would prepare Arlan for a future filled with both duty and challenges, hoping that he would grow to be someone who could protect both their family and the Kingdom of Diamond. End of Chapter. Chapter:6 The evening was calm as the household settled into the rare peace that followed Baron Aldric¡¯s return. For Lady Elara and Arlan, his presence brought a comfort they had missed during his long absences. Aldric had always been a commanding presence, someone whose strength filled every corner of their home, and with him around, Elara felt a sense of security she hadn¡¯t known in his absence. At one year old, Arlan was sharp, perceptive beyond his age, and as soon as he¡¯d seen his father return, he¡¯d made a surprising request: his own bedroom. Both Aldric and Elara had exchanged glances, taken aback by the formality of it. But his earnest look had left them little choice, and Elara, though reluctant, had eventually agreed. The nursery was now his, and, with a sense of pride, he¡¯d watched his parents arrange his small bed and toys as though he were an adult. Lady Elara kissed his forehead goodnight, her fingers lingering on his cheek, but she couldn¡¯t hide the sadness in her eyes as she closed the door to his room. Later that night, in the quiet of their own bedroom, Aldric pulled off his tunic, the exhaustion of his recent journey visible in the weariness of his movements. Lady Elara was ready to embrace him when she noticed it¡ªa fresh scar, angry and red, running across his back. Her hand flew to her mouth, and her eyes widened with worry as she reached out to touch the wound. ¡°Aldric¡­¡± she whispered, her voice laced with both concern and fear. ¡°What happened?¡± He turned to face her, pausing as he saw the tears welling up in her eyes, threatening to spill. Her worry was like a weight pressing against his heart, and he longed to ease it, to tell her everything would be fine. But he knew better than to offer empty promises. With a heavy sigh, he lowered his gaze. ¡°It was necessary,¡± he said quietly, ¡°for the blood ritual.¡± Elara¡¯s hand trembled as she traced the edges of the scar. ¡°This¡­ for Arlan?¡± Her voice was a mixture of pain and disbelief. ¡°Aldric, he¡¯s only a child. Is all this really necessary? No matter his talent or his strength, he is our son. We will cherish him for who he is, not for what he can become.¡± Aldric took her hand, his touch gentle but firm. ¡°I know, my dear,¡± he murmured, his voice steady. ¡°I love him as he is, and I want nothing more than to keep him safe here with us. But¡­¡± He paused, searching for the right words, words that could make her understand the gravity of what lay ahead. ¡°The tensions with Creed are worse than ever. There may be a war soon, and if there is, I cannot protect him forever by keeping him here.¡± Her tears spilled over, and she shook her head, grasping his hands. ¡°Aldric, he¡¯s our only son. Our only child. How can you talk about taking him to war?¡± Her voice cracked with desperation, her eyes pleading with him.You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story. ¡°I know,¡± he said, his own voice thick with emotion. ¡°But he is a Roquefort. Our family¡¯s legacy runs deep, and our loyalty to Diamond demands that we prepare him for what¡¯s to come. If he¡¯s not strong enough, Elara, he will be vulnerable. And in times like these, being weak is not an option for someone in his position.¡± Elara stared at him, the weight of his words sinking in. She knew Aldric¡¯s pride and sense of duty ran deep, but to prepare Arlan, their only son, for a life filled with bloodshed and conflict was almost more than she could bear. Aldric¡¯s hand brushed against her cheek, his fingers wiping away a tear. ¡°Elara, I don¡¯t want this any more than you do. But if he¡¯s not ready, if he doesn¡¯t learn to harness his power, to understand strength¡­ he will be eliminated. The world outside our manor walls is not forgiving. Our enemies would see him as nothing more than a weakness, a threat to be extinguished.¡± She closed her eyes, leaning into his touch, her heart aching. She had hoped Arlan¡¯s life would be simpler, that he would grow in safety and be allowed to explore the world on his own terms. But the world was unforgiving, and Aldric¡¯s logic, as painful as it was, held an undeniable truth. ¡°Is this really what he must face, Aldric?¡± she whispered, her voice barely more than a plea. ¡°Is there truly no other path for him?¡± Aldric¡¯s jaw tightened, his eyes dark and resolute. ¡°I have asked myself the same question countless times. I have wished for another way, Elara, but this is the reality we must face. Our kingdom needs strong defenders, and Arlan, as our son, must be among them. By preparing him now, we give him a chance to survive, to thrive in a world where only the strong endure.¡± He pulled her into an embrace, holding her tightly. ¡°I will do everything in my power to ensure he grows into the man he needs to be, and I swear to you, Elara, I will protect him with everything I have. But to do that, I need your support.¡± Elara sank into his arms, her mind swimming with conflicting emotions. She was a noble¡¯s daughter herself, raised with the understanding of duty and honor, but as a mother, she wanted nothing more than to shield her son from the harsh realities of noble life. Finally, she looked up at Aldric, her eyes red-rimmed but filled with a steely resolve of her own. ¡°If this is truly the only way¡­ then I will trust you. But promise me, Aldric, that he will never be a tool for the kingdom. Promise me that he will always be our son first, that he will know love before he knows the weight of duty.¡± Aldric¡¯s face softened, and he pressed a kiss to her forehead. ¡°I swear it, Elara. I will never let him lose sight of who he is. He is our son before he is a soldier or a noble. I will make sure he grows with strength, but also with a heart that knows love.¡± She nodded, though the ache in her chest remained. She knew that from now on, their lives would be shaped by the delicate balance of nurturing their son¡¯s growth while preparing him for a life that neither of them could fully protect him from. Over the next few days, Elara and Aldric spoke little of their midnight conversation. But a quiet understanding had taken root between them, a shared determination to raise Arlan with both love and strength. Aldric resumed his secret preparations, making arrangements for the rare ingredients needed for the medicated baths. Each month, he would conduct the ritual to strengthen Arlan¡¯s mana channels, even if it meant braving the wildlands and hunting the monsters required for the ritual. The recent scar on his back was but a mark of the commitment he had to his son¡¯s future¡ªa commitment he would carry proudly, no matter the cost. And Elara, though her heart remained heavy, poured her love into each moment with Arlan. She cherished every word he spoke, every smile he gave her, knowing that these tender moments would one day be the foundation of the strength and courage he would need. Together, they would guide him, and in the quiet spaces of their home, they would prepare him for a future none of them could yet foresee. End of Chapter. Chapter:7 The manor was quiet as dawn broke, the early light casting long shadows across the stone walls. In the courtyard, Baron Aldric Roquefort prepared to leave, his face set with steely determination. He¡¯d waited long enough, gathering the rarest and most powerful ingredients to ensure that his son, Arlan, could undergo the ancient therapy. But without the Ice Heart Herb, it would be incomplete. The herb, known for its neutralizing properties, was essential to counteract the dangerous potency of demon¡¯s blood, one of the ingredients required to widen and fortify Arlan¡¯s mana veins. However, acquiring this herb was no easy feat. Rumors had spoken of it, a mythical plant that thrived in the coldest, most treacherous climates. And now, after weeks of searching and questioning, Aldric¡¯s loyal knight and childhood friend, Zenith, had brought word of a possible location. ¡°There¡¯s been a sighting, my lord,¡± Zenith had told him just the night before, his voice grave. ¡°In the western mountains. The entire range is covered in ice, the temperature dropping far below anything our men have seen. It matches the descriptions of the Ice Heart Herb¡¯s presence¡ªa place where frost claims the land, and even the air itself is deadly cold.¡± Aldric had listened, his face a mask of determination. He knew what this mission required, and he would not shy away from the danger. ¡°Thank you, Zenith. Prepare yourself and two others. We leave at first light.¡± As the men readied their gear, Lady Elara watched from the doorway, her expression both proud and concerned. She¡¯d grown accustomed to Aldric¡¯s bravery and the responsibilities that came with his title, but each time he departed, her heart felt the familiar ache of fear. This time, the risk was higher, and she could see it in his eyes¡ªthe cold, unyielding resolve to bring back this herb, no matter the cost. ¡°Be safe,¡± she whispered, her hand reaching for his. ¡°Remember, Arlan needs you¡­ and so do I.¡± Aldric held her hand tightly, his face softening just for a moment. ¡°I¡¯ll return, Elara. Our son¡¯s future depends on this, and I will not fail him. Zenith and the others are prepared. We¡¯ll be back before you know it.¡± With a final, reassuring nod, he left, the clinking of armor and crunch of boots on gravel marking the beginning of their journey. The journey to the western mountains took days, and as they approached, the temperatures began to drop dramatically. Aldric, Zenith, and the two other knights¡ªHarlan and Viktor, men known for their strength and loyalty¡ªpressed onward, their breath visible in the cold air as they climbed higher. Finally, they reached the base of the icy mountains, a place that seemed almost otherworldly. Frost coated every surface, and the very ground seemed to hum with a strange, chilling energy. The tales had not exaggerated; here, the cold was so intense that even the hardiest of men would be tested. They¡¯d brought heavy furs, but even those seemed to offer little protection from the biting air. ¡°This place¡­¡± Zenith murmured, his gaze scanning the frozen landscape. ¡°It feels as though death itself lingers here.¡±If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. Aldric nodded, his eyes sharp as he surveyed their surroundings. ¡°Stay alert. The herb is here, I can feel it. But so, too, is the danger.¡± With cautious steps, they began their ascent, each man feeling the weight of the task before them. The path grew steeper, the air thinner, and the cold seemed to seep into their bones. Yet Aldric¡¯s resolve was unwavering. Every step he took was a testament to his determination to secure his son¡¯s future. Just as dusk began to settle over the frozen landscape, Aldric and his knights reached a plateau where the temperature seemed to plummet further. The air was thin, frigid, and laced with a sense of foreboding, pressing down on them with an unseen weight. In the center of the clearing, nestled amidst layers of frost, they saw it¡ªthe Ice Heart Herb. Its leaves glistened like crystal shards, glowing faintly blue, as if it held the essence of winter itself. Aldric took a step forward, eyes locked on the herb, the culmination of his journey. But as he did, a low, resonant rumble echoed through the frozen landscape, vibrating through the ground beneath their feet. ¡°What was that?¡± muttered Harlan, his voice trembling as his gaze darted around the icy expanse. The ground trembled again, the rumbling sound growing louder, reverberating through the frozen cliffs around them. Aldric¡¯s eyes shifted, scanning the shadows that clung to the mountainside. And then, he saw it¡ªa massive, ancient form embedded within the ice itself, its scales gleaming in the fading light, covered with frost and glistening as though part of the mountain itself. A monstrous head, larger than any creature Aldric had ever seen, was partially encased in ice. Its scales shimmered with an unnatural, spectral blue, and two massive horns curved back from its skull, covered in frost. From its snout to the thick armor plating along its body, the creature looked like it had been asleep for centuries, frozen in time¡­ but now it was stirring. Aldric felt Zenith¡¯s hand on his arm, his loyal friend¡¯s voice a low, urgent whisper. ¡°My lord¡­ that¡¯s a Demonic Ice Dragon.¡± Aldric¡¯s breath caught. He¡¯d heard of these beasts in legends, creatures of ancient power and malevolence that resided in only the harshest, most inhospitable places. They were said to guard places of great magic, drawn to such locations like moths to flame. And now, it was clear that this dragon had claimed the Ice Heart Herb¡¯s territory as its own. The dragon¡¯s eyelids, frosted over yet fierce, slowly opened, revealing slitted pupils that glowed a dark, icy blue. Its gaze settled on the intruders, a flicker of curiosity and malice in those ancient, calculating eyes. The ground beneath their feet shook once more as the dragon let out a slow, deep exhale, the breath forming a mist that froze into tiny ice crystals in the air. ¡°Stand your ground,¡± Aldric commanded, his voice barely more than a whisper, his heart pounding in his chest. The dragon¡¯s massive tail twitched, cracking through layers of ice, and its nostrils flared, sending out another plume of frost that swept over the plateau. The sheer size and presence of the beast dwarfed everything around it. Aldric¡¯s eyes narrowed as he met the dragon¡¯s gaze, feeling the primal force radiating from it. He knew that retrieving the herb would mean facing this ancient guardian. The dragon¡¯s mouth opened slightly, revealing rows of razor-sharp teeth coated in frost. With a low, rumbling growl that shook the ground, it slowly began to lift its head, the ice encasing it cracking and shattering. Aldric gripped his sword, exchanging a silent look with Zenith and the others. They knew that escape was not an option. The dragon would not let them leave so easily. Chapter:1 Iam Back Time Sacred Palace stood before me, a monument to the unfathomable. It was both magnificent and terrifying, its ancient gates inscribed with the glyphs of an era that predated even my understanding. The Beginning Emperor had left it here, a reminder of his omnipotence and his vision for the Divine Realm¡¯s prosperity. Yet to me, it was more than that. It was my last hope. I tightened my grip on the talisman in my hand, feeling its rough, uneven surface. It was no ordinary artifact. The Time Talisman, they called it¡ªa fragment of the Beginning Emperor¡¯s power, capable of bending the river of time itself. But like all great powers, it came with a price. And yet, what choice did I have? The years had been unkind to me, not in the way they wear down mortals, but in how they crush the spirit. I was Lin Fan, the Elderly Deity of the Ninth Azure Peak, a name that once struck fear into the hearts of all who dared to oppose me. My victories were countless, my name immortalized in legends. But what use was all of that now? I had lost. Not to an equal, not even to someone I could respect, but to a schemer, a shadowy figure who used every dirty trick imaginable to bring me to my knees. The memory of my defeat was a bitter taste that refused to fade. It gnawed at me, keeping me awake in the endless nights of my immortality. Immortality. What a cruel joke. For centuries, I hadn¡¯t slept, not truly. The higher realms demanded vigilance, cultivation, and strength beyond mortal comprehension. My body, refined to perfection, had transcended the needs of ordinary men. Food, water, even sleep¡ªthey were luxuries I no longer required. I hadn¡¯t bathed in years, not because of neglect, but because my cultivation had purified me so thoroughly that waste was a foreign concept. Yet here I was, standing before this cursed palace, feeling more mortal than ever. My robes, once pristine and embroidered with the sigils of my clan, were now tattered. I hadn¡¯t cared for appearances in a long time. What use was vanity when you lived among gods? My hair, silvered from the weight of eons, hung loosely around my face, unkempt and wild. I looked down at my hands¡ªcalloused, steady, but trembling slightly. Was it fear? Or was it the sheer enormity of what I was about to do? ¡°Lin Fan,¡± I whispered to myself, my voice barely audible against the howling winds. ¡°You¡¯re either a genius or the greatest fool to ever walk this realm.¡±If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. The gates of the Time Sacred Palace groaned open, the sound echoing like a lament. I stepped inside, my every footfall reverberating through the vast, empty corridors. The walls pulsed with an eerie light, the glyphs shifting and rearranging themselves as if alive. This place wasn¡¯t just a palace¡ªit was a living entity, watching me, judging me. I could feel its disdain. ¡°An Elderly Deity reduced to this,¡± I muttered bitterly, forcing myself to move forward. The talisman in my hand grew warmer, its energy reacting to the palace¡¯s ancient mechanisms. The journey through the palace felt endless, each step a reminder of what I was leaving behind. My cultivation, my status, my very identity as a deity¡ªall of it would be stripped away. The Time Talisman wasn¡¯t a gift; it was a gamble, a desperate plunge into the unknown. Finally, I reached the altar. It was simple, almost underwhelming, a stark contrast to the grandeur of the palace. The talisman¡¯s glow intensified, its energy spilling over like molten gold. I hesitated for a moment, the weight of my decision pressing down on me. Was this truly what I wanted? To give up everything, to regress to a time when I was weak, vulnerable, insignificant? But then I thought of my defeat, the sneering face of my nemesis, the hollow echo of my name in the halls of the Divine Realm. Yes, this was what I wanted. I placed the talisman on the altar, its energy consuming me instantly. The world dissolved into light and shadow, my body and soul unraveling in a torrent of pain and exhilaration. Memories flashed before my eyes¡ªvictories, losses, moments of triumph and despair. And then, silence. When I opened my eyes, the first thing I noticed was the air. It was lighter, fresher, untouched by the dense spiritual energy of the upper realms. I took a deep breath, my lungs filling with a crispness I hadn¡¯t experienced in centuries. I sat up slowly, my body aching in ways I hadn¡¯t felt in eons. Gone was the strength of an Elderly Deity, the unyielding power that had once coursed through my veins. In its place was the body of a youth¡ªslender, unrefined, and painfully mortal. I stumbled to my feet, my legs trembling beneath me. My balance was off, my movements clumsy. It was as if I were learning to walk again. I looked down at myself, my hands now smaller, softer, and less worn. I was young. A laugh escaped my lips, sharp and bitter. ¡°So, it worked,¡± I said aloud, my voice trembling. ¡°The great Lin Fan, reduced to this.¡± I caught my reflection in a nearby stream, the water rippling under the morning sun. The face staring back at me was both familiar and foreign. I was seventeen again, my features sharp but unmarred by the passage of time. My hair was black, falling messily over my forehead, and my eyes burned with a determination that felt... alien. ¡°This is who I was,¡± I murmured, touching my face as if to confirm it was real. ¡°A boy with nothing but potential.¡± The realization hit me like a blow. I was starting over, from the very bottom. All the power, the prestige, the reverence¡ªI had traded it all for this. And yet, a part of me felt... relieved. For centuries, I had carried the weight of my cultivation, the constant pressure to grow stronger, to maintain my place at the top. Every decision had been calculated, every step measured. Now, for the first time in ages, I felt free. But freedom came with a cost. My stomach growled, the first pangs of hunger gnawing at me. I hadn¡¯t eaten in centuries, my immortal body sustaining itself through cultivation alone. Now, I was bound by mortal needs once more. Hunger, thirst, fatigue¡ªall of it came rushing back, overwhelming me with its intensity. I knelt by the stream, cupping water in my hands and drinking greedily. The cool liquid soothed my parched throat, its simplicity grounding me in this new reality. As I sat there, catching my breath, I began to take stock of my situation. I was in the lower realm, the starting point of all cultivation. I was weak, unrefined, and utterly unremarkable. But I had something no one else did: knowledge. I knew where the treasures were hidden, the artifacts that could accelerate my growth. I knew the names of rising stars, those who would one day shape the destiny of this world. I knew the paths to power, the mistakes to avoid, and the enemies to watch for. This was my advantage. I clenched my fists, a spark of determination igniting within me. ¡°I may have lost everything,¡± I said quietly. ¡°But I haven¡¯t lost myself.¡± Chapter:2 Mei lin The water was cold but refreshing as it slid through Lin Fan¡¯s fingers. He crouched by the stream, scooping another handful and splashing it onto his face. The shock of the cool water against his skin was a stark reminder of his new reality. This wasn¡¯t the realm of deities, where spiritual energy pulsed in the air and the water shimmered with celestial light. This was the lower realm, raw and unrefined. His reflection stared back at him from the stream¡¯s surface: a young man¡¯s face, sharp yet unfamiliar, with messy black hair falling over his eyes. Those eyes carried the weight of centuries, a heaviness no mortal youth could understand. Lin Fan sighed and wiped his face with his sleeve. ¡°Back to the beginning,¡± he muttered under his breath. The sound of footsteps rustling through the grass behind him made him turn. A figure approached cautiously, holding a bundle of neatly folded robes in her hands. ¡°Master Fan,¡± the girl said, her voice soft and uncertain. It was Mei Lin. Lin Fan froze, his breath catching in his throat. Mei Lin. She looked so young, so alive. Her hair, tied back in a simple braid, framed a face that hadn¡¯t yet been touched by the hardships of the world. Her brown eyes avoided his, as they always had, her posture timid yet dutiful. In his past life, she had been more than just a maid. Mei Lin had been loyal to a fault, standing by him even when others abandoned him. She had died for him, her body shielding his during an ambush. He had never forgiven himself for letting her sacrifice go in vain. ¡°Master Fan,¡± Mei Lin said again, her brow furrowing slightly. ¡°Are you alright? You¡¯ve been quiet.¡± Without thinking, Lin Fan stepped forward and pulled her into a tight embrace. She stiffened in his arms, clearly caught off guard. ¡°M-Master Fan?¡± He didn¡¯t respond immediately. He couldn¡¯t. The feel of her warmth, the scent of her faint herbal soap¡ªit was overwhelming. She was alive, whole, and standing in front of him.If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. ¡°You¡¯re here,¡± he said finally, his voice hoarse. ¡°You¡¯re really here.¡± Mei Lin hesitated before awkwardly patting his back. ¡°I¡­ I¡¯ve always been here, Master Fan.¡± He released her, stepping back as if to regain control of himself. He cleared his throat and gave her a faint smile. ¡°Never mind. Thank you for bringing the robes.¡± She tilted her head slightly, still looking puzzled but too polite to question him further. ¡°You¡¯ll catch a cold if you stay in damp clothes. Please, change into these.¡± Lin Fan nodded, taking the robes from her hands. As he changed, his mind raced. Seeing Mei Lin alive stirred something deep within him¡ªa sense of relief, but also a quiet determination. He had failed her before.by not being strong. When he was done, he turned to face her. Mei Lin was standing quietly by the stream, her hands clasped in front of her. ¡°Mei Lin,¡± he said, his tone firmer now, ¡°have you ever thought about cultivating?¡± Her head snapped up, her eyes wide. ¡°Me? Cultivate? No, Master Fan. That¡¯s¡­ that¡¯s not for someone like me.¡± ¡°Why not?¡± ¡°I¡¯m just a maid,¡± she said, her voice barely above a whisper. ¡°Cultivation is for people with ambition, people who want to fight or gain power. My only goal is to serve you.¡± Lin Fan¡¯s expression darkened. ¡°Serving me doesn¡¯t mean staying weak.¡± ¡°But¡ª¡± ¡°No,¡± he interrupted, his voice sharp. ¡°You don¡¯t understand. This world is cruel, Mei Lin. Even if you don¡¯t seek power, power will seek you. If you stay like this, you¡¯ll¡­¡± He trailed off, the memory of her death flashing in his mind. ¡°You¡¯ll regret it,¡± he finished quietly. Mei Lin bit her lip, her gaze dropping to the ground. ¡°I don¡¯t want to be a burden to you, Master Fan. I don¡¯t want to slow you down.¡± Lin Fan¡¯s heart clenched. Burden? You were never a burden. He reached into his robes, pulling out a small scroll and used a twig with his sharp sense he wrote tla cultivation technique for her. ¡°This is for you,¡± he said, holding it out to her. Mei Lin hesitated, staring at the jade slip as if it might burn her. ¡°Master Fan, I can¡¯t¡ª¡± ¡°You can,¡± he said firmly. ¡°And you will. This is a basic cultivation technique from the family. It¡¯s called the Four Petal Lotus Technique.¡± She blinked, confused. ¡°family? But¡­ why would you give this to me?¡± Lin Fan sighed. He couldn¡¯t tell her the truth¡ªnot yet. That he had lived a lifetime already, that he had watched her die and carried that guilt for centuries. ¡°Because you¡¯re worth it,¡± he said simply. Mei Lin¡¯s hands trembled as she reached for the jade slip, her expression a mix of awe and doubt. ¡°I¡­ I don¡¯t know what to say.¡± ¡°Then don¡¯t say anything. Just listen,¡± Lin Fan said. ¡°This technique will help you draw Qi into your body. It¡¯s simple but powerful.it¡¯s enough to make you stronger than most.¡± She nodded slowly, clutching the jade slip to her chest. ¡°Practice it diligently,¡± Lin Fan added. ¡°Don¡¯t rush. Build a solid foundation, step by step. If you do, this technique will protect you when the time comes.¡± Mei Lin swallowed hard, nodding again. ¡°I¡¯ll do my best, Master Fan.¡± Lin Fan studied her for a moment, his expression softening. ¡°Good. That¡¯s all I ask.¡± He turned back toward the stream, his gaze drifting to the horizon. The lower realm was vast, but it was nothing compared to what lay beyond. The techniques here were pitiful, the cultivation methods barely scratching the surface of true power. In his past life, he had been lucky. After his family¡¯s destruction, an Upper Realm master had found him and taken him in, recognizing his potential. That chance encounter had set him on the path to greatness. But he wouldn¡¯t rely on luck this time. This time, he would forge his own destiny¡ªand ensure those he cared about survived alongside him. ¡°Let¡¯s head back,¡± he said, breaking the silence. ¡°You¡¯ll start practicing tonight.¡± Mei Lin hesitated, glancing at the jade slip in her hands. ¡°Master Fan¡­ thank you.¡±