《Watcher of destiny》


 Chapter 1: The Awakening of Eryan

    Chapter 1:


    The world around Eryan spun as his eyes fluttered open, the sudden rush of information almost overwhelmed him. His head throbbed in pain, a sharp reminder of the fall he had just experienced. He tried to push himself up but found his body weak, unable to hold his own weight. The floor beneath him felt unfamiliar¡ªsmooth and cool, not the rough the concrete he was accustomed to.


    Confusion clouded his thoughts, as his senses slowly began to adjust. He had fallen down the stairs¡ªhow? His mind was fuzzy, struggling to piece together what had just happened. But something else, something deeper, was awakening within him. Memories¡ªold memories¡ªbegan to surface, like distant echoes from a time long passed.


    He reached up and touched his forehead, feeling the faint bruising from the fall, but as his fingers brushed his skin with pain a new realization hit him.


    This wasn¡¯t just the world he knew. This wasn¡¯t the life he had lived. No¡­ this wasn¡¯t his life at all.


    A strange hum, began to pulse in his mind. It was as if something ancient and powerful had unlocked within him. A sudden surge of wisdom seemed to course through his being. His past life, memories from a different world, flooded back in a chaotic torrent.


    He remembered Earth¡ªthe life he had once lived. His name had been Eryan, but his existence had been completely different. He had been an ordinary person, working, studying, struggling through the motions of life. A simple life. Until it ended¡ªabruptly, without warning. A tragic accident. Darkness. And then, rebirth.


    Now, he was here¡ªback in a new world, inhabiting the body of a young child, only five years old. A child with a father who was known as one of the best hunters in the village¡ªa well respected figure among his peers. Eryan¡¯s father, though skilled, was not extraordinary warrior. He was just¡­ a man, and Eryan had no clear memory of him, but he now understood this was his father.


    The wisdom from his past life hadn¡¯t taken over the previous owner¡¯s soul¡ªno, it had merely opened up his own innate understanding, unlocking the potential he¡¯d carried from his past existence. His mind, once simple, was now brimming with knowledge and insight that didn¡¯t belong to a five-year-old. His understanding of the world around him was clear, as though he had lived decades more than his body¡¯s age suggested.


    As he lay there on the floor, the memories of his fall slowly came into focus. He had tripped on the stairs, likely due to his own uncoordinated movements¡ªtoo much energy and not enough control over his tiny, developing body. The pain in his head and the bruises on his limbs were reminders of the fragility of this new life, and yet, he couldn¡¯t shake the certainty that this body would grow quickly. Time would pass, and he would grow stronger.Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.


    But for now, he was a child, and no one knew the truth. No one knew that this boy, this innocent five-year-old, had lived before. No one would understand the wisdom behind his eyes, the subtle confidence in his gaze. His parents, his father, believed him to be the same child they had raised from birth¡ªa simple boy, eager to learn, full of potential, but unaware of the strangeness he carried.


    Eryan closed his eyes for a moment, trying to calm his swirling thoughts. His past life, his memories, were distant but so vivid. The life he had lived on Earth now felt like a dream. But in this world, where time moved differently, where his body was young again, the weight of those memories was both a blessing and a curse. He had the knowledge and wisdom of someone far older than his years, and yet, he had to pretend to be a mere child.


    The door creaked open, and a figure stepped inside¡ªhis mother, a kind and gentle woman who seemed unaware of the battle raging in Eryan¡¯s mind. She knelt beside him, her expression one of concern.


    ¡°Eryan, you¡¯ve fallen. Are you alright?¡± Her voice was soothing, but there was a trace of worry in her tone.


    Eryan blinked up at her, nodding slightly, his eyes wide with an innocence he didn¡¯t quite feel. ¡°I¡¯m fine, Mama,¡± he said softly, his voice clear but carrying a wisdom that seemed out of place for a child his age.


    His mother smiled, brushing a stray lock of hair from his forehead. ¡°You¡¯re a strong boy. But be careful next time, alright? Your father will be upset if you hurt yourself.¡±


    Eryan nodded again, though his mind was far away. His father¡ªyes, his father would be upset. The man who was considered one of the best hunters in the village. Eryan didn¡¯t remember much about him, not yet. He had to live in this world, in this body, pretending to be the boy they all thought he was. He couldn¡¯t let them know the truth¡ªat least, not yet.


    ¡°I will, Mama,¡± he replied softly, his voice betraying nothing of the depths of his awareness.


    His mother helped him to his feet, supporting his small frame. As she led him back to his room, Eryan couldn¡¯t help but wonder how long he would need to keep up the charade. How long could he pretend to be a normal boy when everything inside him screamed for more. But for now, he would have to keep it hidden, locked away behind the fa?ade of a child.


    But one thing was clear¡ªhe would grow. He would train. And when the time comes, he would use his power. He would n¡¯t remain. just a simple boy. He will become something far greater, and his destiny would be shaped by the wisdom of his past life.


    For now, though, he would play the role of a child. And no one would ever know that Eryan Thorne was more than just the son of a village hunter. He was someone far older, far wiser¡ªand perhaps, in time, far more dangerous.

 Chapter 2: The Gold Finger and the Dao Fruit of Destiny Avenue

    Chapter 2: The Gold Finger and the Dao Fruit of Destiny Avenue


    Eryan sat in the small, dimly lit room, his back resting against the cool stone wall. The weight of his thoughts pressed down on his young shoulders, a reflection of the disorienting complexity he felt inside.


    He had just regained his senses after the fall, with fragments of his previous life still lingering in his mind. Yet, amid the confusion, something deeper began to stir within him¡ªa sensation that had been quietly present all along, waiting for the right moment to make itself known.


    It wasn¡¯t a simple feeling, nor could he immediately name it. It was something far more profound, a presence beyond his understanding. It was as though he had unknowingly been carrying a mystery within himself. He couldn¡¯t feel its presence directly¡ªno vibrations, no tangible force¡ªbut it was there, like a forgotten tune waiting to be heard.


    Closing his eyes, Eryan focused inward. A strange sensation filled his mind, as if a door had slowly creaked open within his consciousness. Beyond the threshold, there was something faint, yet undeniable. A presence that could not be fully grasped by his current self.


    He saw it, or rather, he sensed it¡ªan ethereal, almost intangible figure. It was not something his eyes could see, nor could his thoughts easily comprehend, yet it hovered at the very edge of his understanding. The more Eryan tried to grasp its essence, the more elusive it became.


    This was no ordinary entity. It was something that transcended his past understanding. The knowledge he had carried from his previous life on Earth or whatever a five years old child knows in present world was insufficient to explain it. He had no name for it, no words that could give it shape or meaning. And yet, it was undeniable. It was the very force that had brought him into this world¡ªa force that had, in some unfathomable way, reshaped his fate.


    The Dao Fruit of Destiny Avenue.


    The concept was beyond him, far more complex and mysterious than anything he had known. He didn¡¯t understand it fully, nor did he feel any immediate rush of power or energy. The knowledge was vague, intangible, like an unfamiliar language he had only just begun to decipher. There was no sense of direct power from it, no overwhelming force surging through him. It was not something he could feel or use yet.


    At first, the Dao Fruit made no sense. He could not understand why he had been reborn or how this mysterious thing or entity had tied itself to his existence. He knew only that it was the root of something greater¡ªsomething beyond the limits of his comprehension.Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    The Dao Fruit was not a fruit in the traditional sense. It was not something physical or solid. It was more a concept, a manifestation of destiny, tied to the very fabric of fate itself. It wasn¡¯t merely a source of power, but a pivotal thread in the tapestry of his life, something beyond time, beyond space, and beyond all he had previously understood.


    This Dao Fruit was the reason for his rebirth in this world, and its significance was far more profound than mere immortality. At its core, it held something even more incomprehensible¡ªsomething he had yet to discover.


    The initial truth of the Dao Fruit¡¯s influence was that it was tied to his immortality. It had granted him the gift of eternal youth¡ªhe would never grow old. The years would never touch him. His body, though it would continue to develop, would remain free from the passage of time. The fruit had preserved him, halting the inevitable decay of his flesh.


    Yet, this immortality comes with its own limitations.It wasn¡¯t the kind of immortality that would render him invulnerable to all harm. The Dao Fruit¡¯s power did not shield him from illness or injury. His body was not invincible. In fact, he could still die from many causes. What the Dao Fruit offered was not invulnerability, but the protection from the passage of time itself. It allowed him to stay young, unaffected by the ravages of aging.


    But this was only one aspect of its power.Eryan could feel it¡ªa dormant force, locked away inside him. It wasn¡¯t an overwhelming, tangible energy that surged within him. There was no constant feeling of power. But there was something there, buried deep within, waiting to be understood.


    It had been granted to him, yes, but it was far beyond his current understanding and control. The Dao Fruit was not a tool he could wield at this moment. Its full potential was hidden, veiled by layers of complexity that his current self could not yet penetrate. It was not dormant in the traditional sense¡ªit was something far deeper. It wasn¡¯t until he grew stronger that he would begin to unlock its true potential.


    The fruit¡¯s power was not a mere product of immortality¡ªit was more. There were secrets it held, mysteries waiting to be unearthed. And as he grew, as his body and spirit strengthened, only then would he be able to access the vastness of its true nature.


    But right now, it was beyond him. Eryan could sense its presence, its weight within him, but it was a weight he could not yet carry. The fruit¡¯s influence had given him this second life, but it came with a heavy burden. It was a blessing that would take time to unfold, to reveal its true power.


    And that was the most daunting realization: he was not yet ready to harness it.


    Eryan understood now that the Dao Fruit had not only shaped his rebirth but had also set a path for him, one he could not yet fully see. It was as though his very existence was intertwined with the fruit¡¯s potential. But this was not a path he could rush toward. Its power was far too vast, far too intricate for someone as young and inexperienced as he was. He could feel it¡ªbut he could not use it.


    He was, for now, just a child, bound by the limitations of his current form. The Dao Fruit would not awaken for him until he had developed the strength, wisdom, and will to bear it. Until that time came, Eryan would need to remain patient. He had to grow¡ªphysically, mentally, and spiritually¡ªbefore he could truly understand what the Dao Fruit could offer.


    For now, he would live as a normal child. He would hide his true potential, biding his time in secret. The Dao Fruit was his gift, yes¡ªbut it was also his burden. It was a power far too great to be wielded before its time.


    As the days passed, his mind still struggling to grasp the full nature of his existence. His body was young and weak, but his thoughts were sharp, and he knew that the path ahead would require patience. The Dao Fruit was his destiny, but it would take time to fully awaken and understand it.


    When that day came, Eryan would be ready.


    But for now, he was simply a boy, lying in his room, feeling the weight of destiny within him. Waiting for the moment when the Dao Fruit would finally reveal its true power


    . Until then, he would grow, learn, and prepare.

 Chapter 3 : A Village in the Mountains

    Chapter 3: A Village in the Mountains


    Eryan sat by the window, gazing at the sprawling fields and forests that stretched beyond the village. His small hands rested on the wooden windowsill, his young mind absorbing every little detail. The village was peaceful, but it was not without its own hidden struggles.


    Nestled within a mountain valley called windridge valley, the village called windridge village,thrived on farming and hunting. The land was fertile, providing enough crops to sustain the people, while the surrounding forests were rich with game. Hunting was a dangerous but necessary task, and skilled hunters were highly respected.


    The militia formed the backbone of the village¡¯s defense. They were not professional soldiers but trained villagers who took up weapons when needed to protect their homes. While there were no constant threats, occasional wild beasts or roaming bandits required the militia¡¯s presence. His father had once been a part of the militia in his younger days but had since focused on hunting to provide for the family.


    At the top of the village¡¯s hierarchy stood the village chief, a level 8 warrior and the strongest person in the village. He was an old man now, but his presence still commanded respect.


    Many families had level 9 warriors, though most of them had long since lost their potential to advance further. Some had grown old, their bodies unable to handle the strain of warrior training anymore. Others had simply reached their limit, unable to break through to the next stage. Even so, these warriors formed the core of the village¡¯s strength.


    However, not all level 9 warriors remained in the village. Many youngsters who had just reached level 9 tended to leave for the city, seeking better opportunities. The city offered access to stronger training methods, better weapons, and a chance to rise beyond the limits of a small village. Even those who were unlikely to advance further often chose to go, drawn by the hope of a better life.Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.


    Eryan¡¯s own father  Garret was considered one of the best hunters in the village. He was not a legendary figure, but his skill with the bow and his knowledge of the forest had earned him respect. He provided for his family through his hunting, bringing in meat and valuable animal pelts that could be traded for other goods.


    The village¡¯s social structure was clear. The high-class families included the village chief¡¯s household, the blacksmith, the scholar¡¯s family, the biggest trader¡¯s house, and several families with strong warriors. Some had children who had joined the city guard or the military, bringing their families a higher status.


    The middle-class families included the butcher, the shopkeeper, the best hunters, and the carpenters. They lived comfortable lives but were not particularly influential.


    The lower-class villagers were mostly farmers, weak hunters, and laborers. They worked hard to survive, but they had no real power in the village. They knew little about the world beyond, living simple lives.


    Eryan¡¯s family was neither rich nor poor. They were middle-class, thanks to his father¡¯s skill as a hunter.


    His grandfather hagar, an elderly man with a sharp mind, often shared stories from his youth. His mother luba is a kind and patient woman who managed the household.


    His two elder brothers were already on their own paths. The eldest darin had joined as the city guard in the nearby town and have potential to reach level 9 warrior soon, a source of pride for the family. The second brother reyn ,had begun training under their father, learning the ways of hunting.


    Then there was his little sister ellia, a bundle of energy who followed him around, asking endless questions. She was still too young to understand much about the world, but her innocence brought warmth to the family.


    Despite being small, the village was not entirely isolated. The nearest town was only half a day¡¯s journey away on donkey cart , and from there, rumors of the outside world would occasionally drift in. Most of these rumors spoke of warriors¡ªindividuals who had surpassed normal human limits.


    The lower-class villagers and children had only vague knowledge about the transcendent path. They knew that warriors existed, that some were stronger than others, and that there were higher levels of strength. But how one became stronger or what lay beyond the warrior rank remained a mystery to them.


    Some of the older villagers whispered about legendary warriors who could shatter mountains with a single punch or move faster than the eye could see, but these stories were spoken of in the same way children talked about fairy tales¡ªfantastical, distant, and beyond their reach.


    Eryan had his own thoughts about these things. He did not dismiss the idea of warriors surpassing mortal limits, but he understood that the villagers had no concrete knowledge. He himself was still too weak to think about such things. For now, he would focus on growing stronger, training his body, and learning from his father.


    There was a long path ahead of him, but one day, he would uncover the truth of the transcendent path¡ªnot just the rumors, but the reality that lay beyond what ordinary villagers could comprehend.

 Chapter 4: Hidden Resolve and Family Bonds

    Chapter 4: Hidden Resolve and Family Bonds


    As the evening sun dipped below the horizon, Eryan sat on his small wooden bed, lost in thought. His memories of Earth were now fully awakened, and with them came the instincts of a grown mind. He was no longer just a five-year-old boy but a soul carrying knowledge of another world, one where science ruled and cultivation was only the stuff of fiction.


    Yet, this world was different. Even in the small village, there existed warriors who had surpassed ordinary human limits. His own father, Garret, was one of the best hunters, and the village chief was a level 8 warrior, a level that ordinary people could never reach.


    Then there was the Dao Fruit of Destiny Avenue, the very reason for his rebirth. Though it was currently dormant, its mere existence proved that the world was far from simple. It granted him agelessness, ensuring he would never die of old age, but it did not make him invincible. He could still be killed, whether by illness or by a blade in the dark.


    This realization gave birth to a firm decision in his heart.


    He would not expose himself.


    Power was the ultimate currency in this world. Those who showed talent too early either became targets or were drawn into forces beyond their control. He had no intention of becoming a pawn for others, nor did he want to bring unnecessary danger to his family.


    Thus, he resolved to hide his abilities, pretending to be an ordinary, clumsy child¡ªone who showed no great talent, no threat, and no reason to be watched too closely. He would train in secret, growing stronger at his own pace.


    And most importantly¡ªhe would protect his family.


    A sudden knock on the wooden door snapped him out of his thoughts.


    ¡°Eryan! Stop daydreaming, it''s time for dinner!¡± a soft, cheerful voice called.


    It was his younger sister, Elia, her tone carrying the carefree innocence of childhood.


    Eryan took a deep breath, adjusting his expression into one of playful dullness before hopping off his bed. ¡°Coming!¡±


    ---


    Dinner with Family


    The scent of freshly cooked food filled the modest wooden house as Eryan stepped into the main room. A sturdy wooden table sat at the center, surrounded by stools, with flickering oil lamps casting a warm glow over the meal.Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    Seated at the head of the table was his grandfather, Hagar, his wrinkled face carrying the weight of years, yet his eyes were still sharp. To his right sat Garret, his broad frame and calloused hands evidence of his years as a hunter. Beside him, Lina, his mother, was placing the last dish on the table, her expression gentle yet firm.


    Across from them, Darin, the eldest brother, had returned from his training in the military for a brief visit, while Reyn, the second brother, looked eager to hear his stories. Elia, the youngest, sat beside their mother, swinging her small legs as she hummed a tune.


    The food on the table was simple but hearty¡ªroasted venison, freshly baked bread, boiled vegetables, and a stew made from wild herbs and meat broth. There was also a small dish of salted fish, a rare treat.


    As everyone settled down, Garret cleared his throat. ¡°Alright, let¡¯s eat.¡±


    Eryan took small bites, enjoying the rich flavors of the stew. Food in this world was different from Earth¡¯s processed meals¡ªeverything was fresh, natural, and full of energy.


    ¡°Father, I saw a large deer near the southern forest today,¡± Reyn spoke up, his voice eager. ¡°Maybe we can track it tomorrow.¡±


    Garret nodded. ¡°Good eye. But remember, hunting isn¡¯t just about spotting prey. You need patience. The best hunters know when to strike and when to wait.¡±


    Darin, who had been quiet so far, finally spoke. ¡°That¡¯s true in battle as well. Rushing in carelessly only gets you killed.¡± His voice carried the maturity of someone who had seen bloodshed, even if he was still young.


    Lina shot him a disapproving look. ¡°You shouldn¡¯t talk about such things at the dinner table.¡±


    Elia, oblivious to the serious tone, pouted. ¡°Big brother Darin, did you fight any bandits?¡±


    Darin smirked, ruffling her hair. ¡°Not yet. I¡¯m still in training.¡±


    Hagar chuckled, his deep voice carrying wisdom. ¡°Fighting should always be the last option. Strength is not just about wielding a blade but knowing when to use it.¡±


    Eryan remained quiet, absorbing every word.


    He agreed. Strength without wisdom was meaningless.


    His mother suddenly turned her attention to him. ¡°Eryan, you¡¯ve been quiet today. Did you get hurt from your fall earlier?¡±


    Eryan quickly put on an embarrassed smile. ¡°No, I¡¯m fine, Mother. Just thinking about how not to trip again.¡±


    Reyn laughed. ¡°You need to be more careful. You¡¯re always stumbling over your own feet.¡±


    Eryan scratched his head, playing along. ¡°Maybe I was cursed with clumsiness.¡±


    The table erupted into laughter, and just like that, the serious mood dissolved into lighthearted chatter.


    Eryan smiled. This warmth, this bond¡ªthis was what he wanted to protect.


    As the meal came to an end, his father stretched. ¡°Tomorrow, I¡¯ll be going out for a long hunt. Reyn, you¡¯ll come with me.¡±


    Reyn¡¯s face lit up. ¡°Yes, Father!¡±


    Elia yawned, her small body leaning against Lina. ¡°I¡¯m sleepy¡­¡±


    Lina smiled, picking her up. ¡°Then it¡¯s time for bed.¡±


    As the family slowly dispersed for the night, Eryan sat for a moment longer, staring at the dim glow of the oil lamp.


    He would grow stronger¡ªsilently, carefully.


    No one could know the secret of his past life. No one could know about the Dao Fruit of Destiny.


    For now, he was just an ordinary, clumsy boy.


    And that was exactly how he would remain¡ªuntil the time was right.

 Chapter 5: A Morning of Departures and Annoyances

    Chapter 5: A Morning of Departures and Annoyances


    The first light of dawn crept through the wooden shutters, painting the small room in hues of gold. Eryan stretched under his thin blanket, letting out a slow breath. The world outside was already stirring¡ªthe rhythmic chopping of wood, the distant calls of hunters preparing for the day, the chatter of early risers heading to their tasks.


    Today would be a busy day.


    ---


    Breakfast and Departures


    By the time Eryan reached the kitchen, the scent of warm bread and sizzling meat filled the air. His mother, Lina, moved gracefully around the hearth, tending to the morning meal while Elia, his little sister, clung to her side, humming a tune.


    His eldest brother, Darin, was already dressed in sturdy traveling clothes, his sword strapped to his waist. Today, he was leaving for the city, where he trained with the military. Their father, Garret, and second brother, Reyn, were also preparing for the day¡¯s hunt.


    ¡°Finally awake, sleepyhead?¡± Darin smirked as he tore off a piece of bread.


    Eryan yawned exaggeratedly, rubbing his eyes. ¡°I¡¯m still growing. I need more sleep.¡±Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    Reyn snorted. ¡°More like you¡¯re just lazy.¡±


    Garret, who was sharpening his hunting knife, gave Eryan a glance. ¡°It¡¯s good to rest, but don¡¯t let it make you weak. A strong body needs discipline.¡±


    Eryan nodded obediently, though inside, he already understood his own path¡ªone that required patience and secrecy.


    Breakfast was simple¡ªfreshly baked bread, smoked meat, and a bowl of warm broth. Darin ate quickly, eager to leave, while Garret and Reyn finished their meal before heading out.


    ¡°I¡¯ll be back in a few weeks,¡± Darin said as he slung his bag over his shoulder. He ruffled Elia¡¯s hair, ignoring her annoyed protests. ¡°Be good while I¡¯m gone.¡±


    ¡°You always say that!¡± Elia pouted.


    Garret gave Darin a firm nod. ¡°Stay out of trouble. Strength means nothing if you don¡¯t survive to use it.¡±


    Darin grinned. ¡°I¡¯ll be fine, Father.¡± With a final glance at his family, he stepped out the door, disappearing down the village path toward the city.


    Garret and Reyn followed soon after, joining a group of hunters waiting at the village outskirts. Within moments, the house felt emptier.


    ---


    A Quiet Morning¡­ Or Not


    With the men gone, Lina busied herself with household chores, sweeping the floors and preparing food for later. Elia trailed behind her, asking endless questions about the city, the hunt, and why she wasn¡¯t allowed to go outside alone.


    Their grandfather, Hagar, had already left to visit an old friend¡ªa fellow retired warrior who enjoyed smoking dried herbs and reminiscing about the past.


    Eryan, meanwhile, slipped outside, hoping for some peace. But peace, as always, was short-lived.


    ¡°Eryan!¡±


    A loud voice shattered the morning calm.


    Before he could react, two figures rushed toward him¡ªtwo of his little ¡®annoying¡¯ friends.


    One was Taron, a mischievous boy with wild hair and a talent for causing trouble. The other was Mira, a girl with sharp eyes and a habit of dragging him into her schemes.


    ¡°There you are! We¡¯ve been looking for you,¡± Mira said, hands on her hips.


    Eryan sighed. So much for a quiet morning.


    ¡°What do you two want?¡± he asked, already wary.


    Taron grinned. ¡°We¡¯re going to explore the old mill. Wanna come?¡±


    Mira added, ¡°Or are you scared?¡±


    Eryan suppressed a groan. They never stopped. He had spent years acting like an ordinary kid, and in doing so, had unintentionally attracted these two troublemakers.


    ¡°I¡¯m not scared,¡± he said, feigning reluctance. ¡°But I don¡¯t think my mother would like it.¡±


    Taron waved him off. ¡°That¡¯s why we don¡¯t tell her!¡±


    Eryan sighed again. It was going to be a long morning.

 Chapter 6: The Old Mill and the Unseen Fear

    Chapter 6: The Old Mill and the Unseen Fear


    The morning was crisp as Eryan stepped outside, stretching as the first rays of sunlight broke over the horizon. The village was slowly waking up¡ªbirds chirping in the trees, the sound of water trickling in the nearby stream, and the familiar hum of daily chores. Eryan glanced over to see his elder brother heading toward the city, a determined look on his face. His father and second brother were preparing for their hunting trip with some of the other men, while his mother was already busy with her chores. Little sister followed her mother around, chattering excitedly, and grandfather was off visiting a friend for his usual morning smoke.


    Eryan was about to leave for the fields when he heard a familiar voice. Taron and Mira, two of his closest friends, were running toward him, their faces full of excitement.


    "Hey, Eryan!" Taron called out, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. "You coming with us?"


    Eryan raised an eyebrow, already suspecting where they were headed. "Where are we going this time?" he asked, though he had a good idea.


    "To the old mill!" Mira said with a sparkle in her eye. "We¡¯re going to explore it!"


    The old mill had been abandoned for as long as anyone could remember, its structure crumbling with age. The village elders always warned children to stay away, saying the mill was unstable and could collapse at any moment. But to Taron and Mira, that was part of the thrill. They found the danger exciting, while Eryan wasn¡¯t as keen on the idea.


    "It¡¯s just an old building," Taron said, waving off Eryan¡¯s concern. "What¡¯s the worst that could happen?"


    Eryan hesitated. He knew it was dangerous, but he didn¡¯t want to seem afraid. "Fine, I¡¯ll come," he said reluctantly, his stomach knotting in unease.


    As they approached the mill, Eryan¡¯s uneasiness grew. The old building looked even worse up close¡ªhalf the roof had caved in, and the remaining walls were covered in moss and ivy. The creaking sound of the building in the wind made it seem as if it might collapse at any moment.Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.


    "You sure this is safe?" Eryan muttered, his eyes scanning the unstable structure.


    "It¡¯s fine, come on!" Mira said, already pulling at the rusted gate. With a loud screech, the gate opened, revealing the dark, dust-filled interior of the mill.


    Once inside, Eryan felt an odd sense of dread. The space was eerily quiet except for the occasional groan of the building¡¯s wooden beams. Broken machinery stood in disarray, long forgotten by time. The air was thick with dust, and the faint smell of rot lingered in the corners.


    "I bet there¡¯s treasure here," Mira said, her voice light with excitement as she jumped onto a pile of old crates.


    Taron, always the adventurous one, began poking around, tossing debris aside with his usual recklessness. Eryan, however, felt his nerves tighten. It wasn¡¯t the thought of treasure that bothered him¡ªit was the mill itself. The floorboards creaked under their weight, and Eryan couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that the building might collapse at any moment. He tried to push the thoughts aside, but his eyes kept darting around, searching for any signs of danger.


    Suddenly, there was a soft rustling sound, barely noticeable, coming from a dark corner of the room. Eryan¡¯s heart skipped a beat, and he froze.


    "Did you hear that?" he whispered, his voice barely audible.


    Taron and Mira didn¡¯t seem to notice. They were too busy exploring. But Eryan¡¯s eyes were fixed on the corner, his mind racing. The sound was faint, but it was there¡ªsomething was moving.


    As he took a step closer to investigate, he heard it again¡ªa soft, rustling noise. And then, from the shadows, a small shadow darted across the floor. Eryan¡¯s heart raced.                                        It was just a rat, but the sound had been enough to make him jump.


    "Ugh, a rat," Eryan muttered, feeling a wave of discomfort wash over him. He was always sensitive to such things. The small creatures, scurrying about in the dark corners of the world, always seemed to trigger his fear.


    But before he could calm himself, a voice suddenly broke through the silence.


    "What are you children doing here?"


    The voice was gruff and stern, and it echoed through the mill like a rumble of thunder. Eryan¡¯s blood ran cold. He turned around quickly to see a village guard standing at the entrance, his face hard and serious.


    "You shouldn¡¯t be here," the guard said, his tone commanding. "This place is dangerous. It¡¯s about to fall apart, and there¡¯s nothing here worth your time. Go back to your homes before I have to report you.


    "You shouldn¡¯t be here," the guard said firmly, his voice carrying the authority of someone who had seen it all.


    "Just exploring," Taron said casually, unfazed by the guard¡¯s presence. "It¡¯s just an old mill. What harm can we do?"


    The guard shook his head. "This place is unstable. It could collapse any moment, and there¡¯s nothing here worth your time. Go back home before I have to report you."


    Eryan felt a wave of relief wash over him. The guard was right. The mill was dangerous, and though his fear of small creatures had clouded his judgment, he knew the mill was far too unstable to be exploring. He nodded quickly and began to turn toward the exit.


    Taron grumbled but didn¡¯t argue, and Mira followed suit. They all made their way back to the village, the gate creaking behind them as it closed.


    As they walked back, Eryan couldn¡¯t help but feel grateful. The village guard, though stern, had done what needed to be done. He had known about the dangers of the mill and had kept them from making a mistake. Eryan¡¯s mind wandered briefly to the village¡¯s militia, the guards who patrolled and kept the village safe. He had heard rumors of their training, and he couldn¡¯t help but wonder if he might one day follow in their footstep.


    "Guess that¡¯s the end of that adventure," Mira said, giving Eryan a sidelong glance. "But I¡¯ll be back one day."


    She asked Eryan "You were really scared of that rat, huh?"


    Eryan just shook his head, his thoughts already drifting back to his family. There was no need to return to the mill. He had enough adventures waiting for him at home.

 Chapter 7: Questions for Grandfather

    Chapter 7: Questions for Grandfather


    The midday sun cast warm golden light over the village as Eryan made his way home. His mind was restless, replaying everything that had happened at the old mill. But most of all, it was the village guard¡¯s words about the militia that lingered in his thoughts.


    He had always assumed that Level 9 Warriors were the peak of strength in their village, yet the guard had spoken as if there was something far beyond that. And then there was his father¡ªstrong, respected, yet never having stepped into the ranks of a true warrior.


    As he approached home, he spotted his grandfather reclining in the shade of the old oak tree, his pipe held loosely between his fingers. The old man¡¯s gaze swept over Eryan as he arrived.


    "Back already?" his grandfather asked, tapping the ash from his pipe.


    Eryan nodded and hesitated for a moment before speaking. "Grandfather, I wanted to ask you something."


    His grandfather gave a slight chuckle. "Go on then, boy. You always have that look in your eyes when your mind is full of questions."


    "The militia... what exactly do they do?" Eryan asked. "And... what comes after Level 9?"


    His grandfather exhaled a slow stream of smoke, eyeing Eryan thoughtfully. "So, you¡¯re starting to think about these things now, are you?"


    Eryan nodded. "I only know how to become a Level 9 Warrior¡ªtrain, build strength, hone reflexes. But I heard the guard talk about the militia today, and I¡¯ve also heard that there are warriors in town far stronger than the village chief. I don¡¯t know anything about that."


    His grandfather hummed in thought before responding. "The militia are not warriors. They are strong, well-trained people who defend the village from danger¡ªbe it wild beasts, bandits, or unruly troublemakers. Some of them are as strong as the weakest Level 9 Warriors, but they never stepped into that realm. They remain common men, albeit strong ones. Their goal is to become warrior and enter the path of transcence" Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.


    Eryan frowned. "So Level 9 is the beginning of being a true warrior?"


    His grandfather nodded. "A Level 9 Warrior is the first step on the warrior path. Even though it is the lowest rank, it is still a rank of true warriors. The militia do not reach this step. They are skilled, disciplined, and experienced, but they remain ordinary men in the end."


    Eryan sat in silence, letting the words sink in. He had thought the militia were warriors, but in reality, they were just well-trained fighters who never crossed the threshold.


    "And what about Level 8 and above?" Eryan asked.


    His grandfather let out a slow breath. "Beyond Level 9, things change. Level 8 Warriors are not just stronger, they are different. Their bodies become more refined, their endurance grows, their strength surpasses that of common men. If a Level 9 Warrior is a strong man, then a Level 8 Warrior is a fighter who has stepped beyond human limits. The village chief is a Level 8 Warrior, and even he is nothing compared to the warriors in town."


    Eryan''s heart pounded. "The town has warriors stronger than Level 8?"


    "Of course," his grandfather said. "In the town, there are warriors of Level 7 and Level 6, and even a few beyond that. Such people are not just strong¡ªthey can defeat multiple men with ease, overpower wild beasts, and survive wounds that would kill a normal man."


    Eryan¡¯s mind swirled with possibilities. If Level 6 Warriors were that powerful, then what about those even higher?


    Then, something else came to his mind. "What about my father? I heard he was close to becoming a Level 9 Warrior... but he never did."


    His grandfather fell silent for a moment, his gaze distant. Then, with a quiet sigh, he spoke.


    "Your father was one of the strongest men in the militia. He trained hard, fought well, and was once at the peak of human strength. He was strong enough that he could have taken that step into Level 9. But... he never did."


    "Why?" Eryan asked, his voice barely above a whisper.


    The old man shook his head. "Some say he lacked something¡ªtalent, guidance, or perhaps the right opportunity. Others say he simply chose not to. No one truly knows. Not even me."


    Eryan clenched his fists. His father had been so close, yet he had never crossed the threshold. And now, he would never know why.


    A sense of determination settled in his heart. He would not stop at Level 9. He would find out what lay beyond.


    And one day, he would surpass them all.

 Chapter 8: Silent Resolve

    Chapter 8: Silent Resolve


    The afternoon light softened into golden hues as Eryan sat alone beneath the old oak tree, his grandfather having gone inside for a rest. The conversation still echoed in his mind¡ªLevel 9, the starting line of true warriors, and beyond that, heights he could only imagine


    His thoughts drifted to the secret nestled deep within his heart¡ªthe Dao Fruit. It had granted him immortality, a gift beyond measure. But immortality didn¡¯t change his talent or potential.His talent remained the same as his father¡¯s and Darian¡¯s¡ªat best, he could hope to reach Level 9, the entry point of the warrior path. It would take time, perhaps years, but time was the one thing he had in abundance. With relentless hard work, he believed he¡¯d get there.


    As he entered their modest home, the familiar creak of the wooden floor welcomed him. His grandfather sat by the hearth, the faint aroma of dried herbs still lingering around him. Eryan approached, masking his determination with casual curiosity.


    "Grandpa," he began, his voice light but hiding a deeper intent, "at what age do people start formal militia training?"


    His grandfather stroked his graying beard thoughtfully. "Militia training starts at eight. By then, a boy¡¯s strong enough to handle real exercises, learn discipline, and start shaping his body for the hardships ahead."


    Eryan nodded, feigning simple interest, but in his heart, a silent resolve took root. I¡¯ll start preparing on my own until then. His small hands clenched slightly, unnoticed by his grandfather.


    The conversation drifted to tales of the past¡ªstories of village hunts, the times when Eryan¡¯s father served as part of the militia, his strength admired even though he never crossed the threshold to become a Level 9 warrior. So close, yet not enough. That thought lingered in Eryan¡¯s mind like a shadow, fueling his quiet determination because he knew without immortality he will be no different from his father.If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.


    As evening crept in, casting long golden streaks across the sky, the door creaked open. His father and Darian returned, the scent of the forest clinging to them. They¡¯d been tracking a deer since morning, though by the looks of their empty hands, luck hadn¡¯t favored them today.


    Darian, eight years old and full of energy, recounted their adventure with excitement, his face lighting up with every exaggerated detail. Their eldest brother.


    Dinner was simple but hearty¡ªstewed vegetables, coarse bread, and a bit of dried meat. The family gathered around, the flickering lantern casting warm glows on their faces.


    The conversation drifted to village gossip, small quarrels, and daily happenings. Eryan listened, more attentive than he seemed, his mind always ticking beneath the surface.


    At last, his father chuckled softly. "Did you hear? Old Bartos¡¯ son is getting married soon."


    "Bartos? The fat butcher?" Darian grinned, his face bright with amusement. "I thought his son, Joran, was too busy chasing chickens to think about marriage."


    Laughter filled the room, easy and comforting. Then his mother glanced at Aldric, her smile softening into something thoughtful. "Our Aldric will be of marriageable age soon too."


    His father nodded, not saying much, but his eyes reflected the same thought.


    Eryan smiled with them, his heart warm yet steeled with a purpose only he knew.


    Time, patience, and effort. That¡¯s all I need.


    After dinner, the warmth of family chatter lingered in Eryan¡¯s heart as he quietly retreated to his small room. The dim light from a clay lamp flickered against the rough wooden walls, casting long shadows that danced with the breeze slipping through the cracks. The familiar creak of the floorboards under his feet felt like a quiet rhythm to his thoughts.


    He sat on the edge of his simple straw-filled mattress, staring at the small window that framed the darkening sky. The stars were beginning to prick through the veil of dusk, distant and cold, yet somehow comforting. Time¡­ that¡¯s what I have. Time and hard work.


    His mind raced with plans. If militia training officially began at eight, he had over two years to prepare. That was more than enough if he remained disciplined. I won¡¯t waste a single day.


    He decided to start with the basics¡ªbuilding strength and endurance. His father often mentioned how militia training focused heavily on stamina, the ability to move swiftly, carry weight, and withstand exhaustion. If I can master that now, I¡¯ll be ahead before training even starts.


    Tomorrow, he¡¯d rise early, before the village stirred. There was a small clearing near the old oak grove just beyond the fields¡ªa quiet place where few people wandered, perfect for training without drawing attention. He¡¯d start with simple exercises: running to build his lungs, climbing trees to strengthen his arms and legs, and lifting stones to harden his grip.


    I¡¯ll create my own routine. He mapped it out in his mind¡ªrun to the grove, climb the tallest oak, practice squats and push-ups, then carry stones back and forth until his arms trembled. Every day, he¡¯d push a little harder.


    Lying back on his thin mattress, Eryan stared at the wooden beams above. The silence of the house settled around him, broken only by the faint crackle of the dying hearth in the next room. His body felt heavy with the day¡¯s weight, but his heart was light, filled with purpose.


    I may not have great talent, but I have time. And I have will.


    With that final thought, he closed his eyes. Sleep came slowly, wrapped in quiet determination and the faint whisper of dreams shaped by ambition.