— A New Beginning
The next morning, sunlight quietly spread across the rooftops of Lamul, casting a soft glow over the City of Happiness.
Inside the small Washin household, Nahil Dragsen opened his eyes.
For a moment, he remained still.
Then—
A faint smile appeared on his face.
Excitement.
Pure, uncontrollable excitement.
"A cultivation world…"
Even after everything that had happened the previous night, the reality still felt unbelievable.
In his previous life, such things only existed in stories—fantasy, imagination, fiction.
But here—
It was real.
Power, cultivation, spiritual roots, immortality…
All of it existed.
He slowly sat up, clenching his fist lightly.
Qi stirred within him.
"I'm really here…"
This time, instead of confusion or fear, there was anticipation.
Without wasting time, Nahil got up and stepped out of his room, heading toward the courtyard.
—
The courtyard was already alive with movement.
A sharp sound cut through the air.
"Again."
Teresa Washin's calm voice echoed.
In the center, Damyin Washin held a wooden sword, her small figure moving with surprising precision. Her swings were not wild or careless—they carried structure, discipline.
Nahil stopped at the entrance, watching quietly.
Slash.
Step.
Turn.
Her movements were smooth for someone her age.
Teresa stood nearby, observing closely.
"Your grip is too loose," she said. "Focus your strength through your wrist."
"Yes, Mother."
Damyin adjusted instantly and swung again.
This time, the motion was cleaner.
Nahil's gaze sharpened slightly.
His mother was a sword cultivator, possessing both gold and earth spiritual roots. Her style was firm and grounded, yet sharp when needed.
Damyin had inherited the gold root.
Metal.
A natural affinity for swordsmanship.
"She's talented…"
Nahil thought to himself.
At just twelve years old, she had already reached the first stage of Qi Refining. Among ordinary families, that level of progress could already be considered impressive.
A genius.
And more importantly—
She was cheerful.
Unlike many cultivators who became cold and distant, Damyin still carried warmth. She laughed easily, spoke freely, and valued her family deeply.
At that moment, she noticed him.
"Brother!"
Her face lit up instantly as she ran toward him, still holding the wooden sword.
"You're awake! Did you break through?"
Nahil paused for a fraction of a second before shaking his head.
"Not yet."
"Oh…" She looked slightly disappointed, then quickly smiled again. "You'll definitely succeed soon."
Teresa glanced at him but said nothing.
Nahil nodded lightly.
"I'll try."
He looked at the two of them again—mother and daughter training together in the quiet morning.
A strange feeling rose within him.
Gratitude.
He had no blood connection to this family.
Yet they had raised him, taught him, and treated him as their own.
"I'm lucky…"
He thought silently.
Very lucky.
—
After some time, the training ended, and the family gathered inside for breakfast.
Simple food.
Nothing extravagant.
But necessary.
Until reaching the Nascent Soul stage, cultivators still relied on physical nourishment. Qi alone was not enough to sustain the body.
The four of them sat together.
Draven Washin had already returned from outside, his presence steady as always.
"Eat," he said simply.
The meal began.
There was little conversation, but the atmosphere was calm.
Damyin spoke occasionally, mostly about her training, while Teresa listened and corrected her where needed.
Nahil ate quietly, his thoughts drifting.
This life…
It felt stable.
But he knew stability in this world was fragile.
—
After finishing the meal, Draven stood up.
"It's time."
Nahil nodded and followed him.
"Take care," Teresa said.
Damyin waved. "Come back early, Brother."
"I will."
Father and son stepped out of the house and began walking toward the central district of Lamul.
—
The further they walked, the more lively the city became.
Shops lined the streets. Cultivators moved in groups. Merchants shouted prices. The air carried a mixture of noise, energy, and tension.
Eventually, they arrived at a modest store.
This was Draven's workplace.
A talisman shop.
Inside, shelves were filled with paper talismans, each inscribed with intricate patterns. Some emitted faint spiritual fluctuations.
Draven was not just a cultivator—
He was a talisman maker.
A second-grade one.
In Lamul, that level was enough to earn a stable living.
Nahil moved naturally, helping organize items, preparing materials, and assisting customers when needed.
Time passed steadily.
Customers came and went.
Most purchased first-grade talismans—basic attack, defense, or utility types.
Fire talismans.
Barrier talismans.
Mind-calming talismans.
Occasionally, someone would request a second-grade talisman, but those were more expensive and less common.
Nahil observed everything carefully.
The way his father interacted with customers.
The way talismans were handled.
The flow of Qi within them.
His eyes lingered slightly longer than usual.
—
After some time, the door opened again.
A young man stepped inside.
"Nahil!"
Nahil looked up.
"Dron Quin."
The boy approached with an easy smile.
He was about the same age, dressed in simple but decent clothing. His posture showed confidence.
"I've been looking for you," Dron said. "Want to come with us?"
Nahil raised an eyebrow slightly.
"For what?"
"Hunting," Dron replied. "Low-level beasts outside the city. A few of us are going."
Draven, who was nearby, glanced at them but did not interrupt.
Dron continued, "It's a good chance to earn some money… and gain experience."
Nahil remained silent for a moment.
Beast hunting.
Dangerous—but valuable.
Resources, combat experience, and opportunities.
He glanced briefly at his father.
Draven spoke calmly, "Decide yourself."
No approval.
No refusal.
Just a choice.
Nahil looked back at Dron.
"…Who else is going?"
Dron grinned.
"You'll see when we get there."
Nahil narrowed his eyes slightly, but the corner of his lips lifted faintly.
This—
Was exactly the kind of opportunity he needed.
"I'll go."
Dron's smile widened.
"Good. We leave soon."
As Dron turned to leave, Nahil's gaze followed him.
The quiet routine of his life was beginning to shift.
And beyond the walls of Lamul—
The real world of cultivation awaited.