A full month had passed since Ren had taken the position of village leader.
In that short span of time, the village had changed more than it had in the last ten years combined.
Peace reigned.
Not a single bandit attack.
Not a single monster raid.
Not even the distant threat of danger.
For the villagers, this peace felt unreal—almost fragile—yet it was solid, grounded in the presence of one man.
Ren
Standing at the edge of the village early one morning, Ren watched the sun slowly rise over the fields. The golden light bathed the land, illuminating broken houses, cracked roads, and weary faces that still carried the scars of hardship.
This village had survived—but it had never truly lived.
That would change.
Ren turned to the gathered villagers and spoke calmly, his voice steady yet filled with conviction.
"For now, all of you should return to the farms. Focus on cultivation, harvesting, and food production. Leave the village to me."
The villagers hesitated.
Rebuilding an entire village was no small task—yet when Ren spoke, there was something in his eyes that erased doubt.
They trusted him.
One by one, families packed their tools and returned to the fields. Soon, only Ren and Senjo remained within the empty village.
Senjo crossed his arms and glanced around.
"So… rebuilding everything from scratch?"
Ren nodded.
"Not just rebuilding," he said. "We're creating something better."
That very day, they began.
Using magic and cultivation-enhanced strength, Ren and Senjo tore down the decaying houses and reshaped the land. Stone walls rose from the earth. Wooden beams aligned perfectly as if guided by invisible hands. Streets widened. Drainage paths were carved carefully to prevent flooding.
Ren didn't simply rebuild homes.
He planned.
Shops were constructed along a central road. Storage houses were placed near the entrance. Extra homes were built in anticipation of future growth. Even training grounds and open courtyards were formed—spaces meant not only for survival, but for life.
At night, when exhaustion crept in, Ren still pressed forward.
"This village will not remain small," he said quietly. "Not for long."
By the time the villagers returned from the farms, the impossible had already begun.
Ren personally visited the fields, carrying storage rings filled with food. When he arrived, the villagers gathered around him, their faces lighting up with relief.
He distributed warm meals, fresh bread, and preserved meat. The taste alone shocked them—it wasn't just food; it was nourishment beyond anything they had eaten before.
One villager finally asked the question everyone carried in their hearts.
"Leader Ren… why are you doing all this for us?"
Ren paused.
Then he smiled.
"Because it's my dream to become a king."
The villagers froze.
Ren continued, his eyes gazing toward the horizon.
"This village may be small today. But a time will come when people will choose to live here. When safety, strength, and dignity exist within these walls. I will build that future."
The village elder stepped forward, placing a weathered hand on Ren's shoulder.
"I believe you," the old man said firmly.
When the villagers returned that evening, they were speechless.
The village they had left behind no longer existed.
Lantern-lit streets. New houses. Clean paths. Shops waiting to open. Walls strong enough to repel beasts. It was beautiful.
Many fell to their knees.
"We can never repay this debt," they said.
Ren shook his head.
"I don't want repayment," he replied gently. "I want us to grow together."
And grow they did.
Ren taught several villagers the art of weapon smithing. Under his guidance, crude tools evolved into proper blades and spears. Young men and women gathered at dawn as Ren personally taught them martial arts—footwork, discipline, balance.
For those with potential, Ren opened their cultivation points.
Painful. Dangerous. Life-changing.
Soon, the village buzzed with energy. Children laughed. Traders arrived. Five trusted villagers were chosen as merchants, carrying village goods to nearby towns. Trade flourished. Population increased.
Every night, Ren gathered the children and sang poems beneath the moonlight—soft verses about courage, hope, and tomorrow.
They listened as if he were their father.
Senjo, meanwhile, took charge of training the fighters. His strict discipline forged real strength.
A month later, the village stood unrecognizable.
Advanced. Organized. Alive.
Ren stood atop the village wall one evening, watching the lanterns glow. For a moment, memories surfaced—blood-soaked battlefields, screams, orders given without mercy.
Once, he had been a general who killed without question.
Now, he understood.
Life had meaning beyond war.
One day, Ren decided it was time to tame a beast.
A wolf-type spirit beast had been sighted deep in the forest—dangerous, but valuable.
"I'll go alone," Ren said when his soldiers offered help.
They obeyed.
As Ren moved through the forest, he slowed his steps, sensing chaos ahead. The sound of clashing energy echoed through the trees.
He arrived to find a fierce wolf beast locked in combat with a young woman.
She was a cultivator—skilled, but wounded. Blood stained her leg, her movements slowing.
Without hesitation, Ren stepped forward.
One strike.
The beast collapsed instantly, lifeless.
The girl froze in shock.
"That was… a high-rank beast," she said, staring at Ren in disbelief.
Ren examined the corpse calmly.
"I was hoping to tame it," he muttered.
The girl bowed deeply.
"Thank you for saving me."
She introduced herself.
"My name is Elyra. I am from the Vaelwyn Clan."
Ren nodded politely. He had heard of the clan—one of the most noble and respected in the realm.
Seeing her injury, Ren gestured for her to sit. With controlled energy, he healed her wound effortlessly.
"My name is Ren," he said.
Elyra blinked.
"Ren… the village leader?"
She smiled faintly. "Your village has become famous recently."
They spoke briefly. Elyra remarked on the burden of leadership.
Ren answered honestly.
"It's my dream to become a king. To protect people."
Curious, he asked her in return.
"What's your dream?"
Elyra's eyes sharpened.
"To become a cultivation master," she said. "And to kill Azhryel—the Demon General."
Ren smiled softly.
"And who is that?"
Elyra stared at him, stunned.
"You… don't know?"
She didn't realize the truth.
She was standing before the very man she sought to kill.