Chapter 1. The Seed
A bird wreathed in flames soars above in a desolate land, where deep cracks mar the earth and sun-bleached bones lie scattered beneath the relentless heat. Its fiery wings cast flickering shadows on the barren ground below.
From its beak, a single seed falls, slipping into one of the cracks. The bird continues its flight, but suddenly, its flames begin to wane. Its wings falter, and with a final, exhausted descent, it crashes to the ground. The fire surrounding its body faded, revealing feathers that withered and decayed in mere moments.
Within moments, all that remains of the bird are brittle bones, merging seamlessly with the lifeless expanse, indistinguishable from those that had perished before.
Elsewhere, a group of young men and women hovered in the air, their swords carrying them as they gazed at the shimmering barrier before them. Just beyond it stands a weathered monument, its surface marred with words written in dried blood:
"Life-Stealing Land."
The group murmurs anxiously.
"The Fire Eagle with the spirit seed just entered the Life-Stealing Land. What are we going to do? Elder Li will be furious."
"What can we do? Other than endure his wrath, I'm not stepping foot in there."
"Can we just buy another spirit seed and give it to Elder Li?"
"Do you have any idea how much a spirit seed costs?"
"How expensive could it be? Maybe I can't afford it alone, but if we pool our resources, we might be able to buy one. That way, no one gets punished."
"It costs 1,000 Five Elemental Spirit Drops."
"A thousand?! Even if we sold ourselves, we wouldn't be able to come up with that much!"
A heavy silence fell over the group until one of them suddenly spoke up.
"I have an idea."
"Say it."
"Quickly!"
"Don't keep us waiting! Elder Li will be here in an hour."
The young man took a deep breath. "We can't afford 1,000 Spirit Drops now, but that doesn't mean we can't pay in the future."
"We all know that! Just tell us the plan already!"
"Before Elder Li discovers the missing spirit seed, we will report this to him ourselves. We write an IOU, promising to repay the cost in the future. That way, we won't be seen as trying to hide it from him."
"Will Elder Li even agree to that?"
"Do you have a better plan?"
A tense pause—then someone exhaled sharply.
"Fine. We'll go with Zhou's plan."
One by one, the group turned, their swords slicing through the air as they sped away into the distance.
None of them noticed the sudden burst of blue light in the sky behind them. It descended swiftly, piercing through the shimmering barrier like a blade through silk. In the heart of the desolate land, the light hovered for a moment before slowly fading. Where the light had once shone, a crystal mirror now floated, its violet surface rippling like water disturbed by an unseen force.
The mirror drifted across the barren land, gliding over cracked earth and past scattered bones. It moved toward the shimmering barrier, hesitating at its edge. Half of its body attempted to pass through—but the sky darkened, and a menacing cloud swirled into existence. A deep, oppressive force loomed overhead.
Sensing danger, the mirror recoiled, swiftly retreating into the desolate land. A voice, filled with sorrow and longing, echoed from within.
"Will I never avenge my master?"
Aimlessly, the mirror wandered, its movements growing slower, more erratic. Gradually, it descended lower and lower until, at last, it fell into a deep crack in the scorched earth—the same crack where the spirit seed lay, teetering on the brink of death.
With newfound resolve, the mirror trembled. "One last try."
A faint glow spread across its surface, and from that glow, a spectral portal began to take shape. But before it could fully form, a thick, black gas erupted from the ground beneath it. The darkness struck in an instant, consuming the mirror in a single, devastating blow.
With a brittle, shattering sound, the mirror crumbled into fine dust, leaving behind only a flickering blue light.
For a moment, silence reigned. Then, the lifeless seed stirred. The blue light was drawn into it, vanishing within.
A heartbeat passed.
Then, roots sprouted from the seed, pushing deep into the barren land. At the last moment before the portal fully vanished, another white light emerged—only to be drawn into the seed as well.
No life could survive in the Life-Stealing Land. Yet, this seed was no ordinary seed—it belonged to the legendary Void Spiritual Tree. Unlike other forms of life, it did not rely on the energy of the world but instead drew sustenance from the void itself. However, its greatest challenge was sprouting, a process that demanded an immense amount of energy.
Here, in this cursed land devoid of all vitality, even the miraculous seed had been on the verge of death. But then, fate intervened. A foreign object—an anomaly in this world—had appeared, only to be destroyed by the land's relentless power. In its destruction, it released its energy, and the dying seed, desperate for survival, absorbed it. That single moment of chance granted it life, allowing its roots to take hold in the desolate earth.
As the shattered mirror's portal faded, a soul emerged—a final remnant of something long lost. The seed, as if guided by instinct, pulled the soul into itself, drinking in the last traces of its power. The infusion of energy was unlike anything before, providing the ultimate catalyst. The seed's roots pierced beyond the barren land, breaching the void itself, where it could finally draw upon its true source of strength.
In that instant, the soul's True Spirit merged with the essence of the seed, becoming one.
Silence fell. Then, from deep beneath the earth, black gas once again slithered upward, coiling around the newly awakened seed. For a moment, it lingered, inspecting, probing.
A sigh—soft yet ancient—whispered through the wasteland.
Then, without a trace, the black gas vanished.
Time passed. The sun set, the moon rose, and the cycle repeated—day after day, night after night.
Above the buried seed, a small sprout emerged. Slowly, it grew, its fragile form defying the deathly stillness of the Life-Stealing Land. As the cycles continued, the sprout stretched skyward, its violet stems thickening, its branches spreading wide. Crystal-like, mirror-like leaves unfurled, shimmering under the cold moonlight—the only sign of life in a land where none should exist.
Then, from deep within the young tree, a whisper stirred—a sound that had not been heard in an eternity.
A voice, light and full of wonder, spoke. "Hey… I'm not dead!"
A pause.
"No… I am dead. This isn't my body."
Another pause, a realization dawning.
"So… reincarnation is real."
Suddenly, the voice twisted into a sharp cry of pain. Memories clashed, and identities fractured.
"Who am I? I am Merin. No… I am a Mirror Spirit."
Silence, heavy with conflict. Then, with unwavering determination, the voice spoke again.
"No—I am Merin."
Chapter 2. The Way of Dream
2 months later
"It's finally done. Now, I can form the Dream Seed." Merin thought, excitement surging within him. "At last, I can see a different scenery."
He thought of his last moment of death as he felt the same excitement.
But fate had other plans.
As he sprinted through the streets, searching for shelter from the raging thunderstorm, misfortune struck—literally. A bolt of lightning crashed down upon him, and in an instant, his world went dark.
When he regained consciousness, everything felt… different.
He had been reincarnated. But as his luck would have it, he was not a powerful warrior, a noble heir, or even an ordinary human. No, he was now a tree.
Fragments of unfamiliar memories flooded his mind, memories belonging to an ancient artifact—the Dream Mirror. His luck, however, did not completely betray him. The memories were fragmented, preventing him from losing himself entirely within the artifact's vast knowledge. Among the scattered recollections, he stumbled upon something astonishing—a cultivation technique.
For someone who had spent his life in a mundane world without any extraordinary powers, this discovery left him speechless. Growing up in an orphanage, he had spent countless hours reading fantasy, Xianxia, and other novels, dreaming of being reincarnated into a world of magic and cultivation. That wish had finally come true—just at the worst possible moment.
His future had once seemed bright. He had worked tirelessly, and for the first time in his 18 years of life, fate had smiled upon him. He had earned admission to one of the top three universities in his country. He had even gone out to celebrate with his classmates, reveling in the moment.
But his fortune had lasted no more than eight hours.
On his way back to the orphanage, lightning struck—and now, he was here. A tree.
Not an ordinary one, though. He could feel it—his roots had an extraordinary ability. They could absorb energy from the void, allowing him to survive in this barren wasteland.
But even with this miraculous ability, time was running out.
He discovered that a black energy from beneath the ground was slowly invading his roots. He had first noticed it days ago when one of his roots was destroyed. With only eleven roots remaining, he estimated that he had around twenty-two months to live.
To survive, he needed to either grow new roots or strengthen the ones he had. But both required more energy—far more than what he could absorb from the void. The Life-Stealing Land held no energy except for the black force that sought to consume him.
Then, he remembered the cultivation technique he had begun practicing after inheriting the artifact's fragmented memories—the Dream Soul Sutra.
It offered two paths: the Way of Dreams and the Way of the Soul.
At first, he chose the Way of the Soul, reaching the third chapter of the technique. This path allowed him to form a soul clone, which he had intended to use for exploring the land. But when he realized his days were numbered, he turned his attention to the Way of Dreams.
According to the technique, upon reaching the second chapter, one could form a Dream Seed and cast it into the Dream World—a realm shaped by people's imaginations, where countless worlds were born. The Dream Seed would reincarnate into a new life within one of these worlds. If luck was on his side, he could even reincarnate into the real world.
Each time his reincarnated self perished, the Dream Seed would return, merging with him and strengthening his soul. However, the energy gained from a dream life was significantly weaker—only 20% of what real life would provide.
Two weeks ago, he had no choice but to switch methods. Fortunately, he discovered that the first chapter of both paths was 80% identical, making the transition easier. It took him a full day to adapt, and after that, he pushed himself relentlessly—thirteen days without rest.
Though his body was a tree that required no sleep, his spirit was still human. It needed rest. Yet, for thirteen days, he endured.
"Once the Dream Seed is formed and cast into the Dream World to reincarnate, I'll finally take a long sleep."
To gain the maximum energy, the Dream Seed had to survive as long as possible in its reincarnated life. That was his goal.
And since the Dream Seed carried his memories, in essence—it was him.
So, he wasn't worried about the Dream Seed itself—he was worried about his luck. Every time fortune smiled upon him, misfortune inevitably followed. The fact that the first chapter of both cultivation paths was 80% similar had been a stroke of luck.
"Let's form the Dream Seed and see if luck is on my side this time."
He began performing the technique, focusing his will. A sharp sting coursed through him, and then—he saw it.
As a tree, his vision was not like a human's. He could not see shapes or colors, only energy. And in this lifeless wasteland, his surroundings had always been utterly blank.
But now, within his energy vision, something new appeared—a flicker of energy, distinct and unmistakable. The technique stopped running.
He had succeeded.
Controlling the Dream Seed, he activated its energy. In his energy vision, he watched as the seed vanished.
As he watched the Dream Seed disappear, he closed his eyes—eyes he no longer had.
Old habits lingered. Though he was now a tree, sleep only came when he imagined closing his eyes.
And so, Merin slept.
—
In the Dream World, the Dream Seed tumbled into a crack.
A moment later, sound filled his mind—crying and voices speaking an unfamiliar language. Then came a startling realization.
He was the one crying.
He had successfully reincarnated.
Once again, he was a baby, his senses dulled and unfocused. Everything was a blur, his newborn body too weak to process the world around him.
Then, something soft pressed against his lips. Instinct took over before he could think—he latched on and began to suckle.
Warmth. Comfort. The hunger faded, replaced by exhaustion.
He drifted into sleep.
—
The next time he woke, an unfamiliar discomfort hit him.
His bottom was soaking wet.
Before he could process his humiliation, he wailed in protest. Moments later, someone arrived to tend to him. As she leaned over, his blurry vision cleared, and he caught his first true glimpse of this new world.
An Asian face.
"I've been reincarnated into an Asian family."
For the next week, his routine was simple—cry when hungry or uncomfortable, observe his surroundings, or sleep.
"This world feels ancient."
He saw no signs of modern technology, but since he had never left the room, he couldn't be sure.
After a month, his suspicions deepened. The clothing worn by his parents, servants, and visitors all reflected an ancient style.
By then, he had confirmed it—this was an ancient world.
—
Their household was small but well off. He lived with his parents and three servants, one of whom was solely responsible for his care.
It wasn't until he was six months old, after learning to walk and speak a few simple words, that he was finally taken outside—for a festival in town.
Everything was going as expected. The sights, the sounds, the energy of the festival filled him with awe. Eventually, exhaustion crept in, and he felt sleepy—until a sudden commotion snapped him awake.
Loud shouts ring out from the center of the festival. Though he couldn't see the source of the noise, the excited murmurs and gasps around him told him enough—a fight had broken out.
Curious, he pointed toward the sound, doing his best to form words with his baby voice.
"Papa, Papa! See!"
His father chuckled. "My Kanoru wants to see the samurai fight?"
Lifting him onto his shoulders, his father gave him a clear view over the crowd.
For the first time, he saw them—two men locked in combat, wooden swords clashing in a dazzling display of skill.
His eyes were glued to the fight, captivated.
In his mind, a single thought echoed:
"This is a fantasy world."
A thrill surged through him. His goal was simple—to live longer. In a fantasy world, there were ways to extend one's lifespan.
This world had hope.
Chapter 3. Six Years Old
By the time he turned one year old, he had already grasped parts of his family's situation and the town they lived in.
His family belonged to the samurai class.
His father, Matsuda Tatsuke, was a low-ranked samurai, while his mother, Matsuda Manari, managed their household.
The moment he showed interest in becoming a samurai, his father was overjoyed. For the past four months, Tatsuke had taken him to watch dozens of apprentice samurai fights, eager to nurture his son's enthusiasm.
His mother, however, was far from pleased.
By the time he turned two years old, he had begun to reflect on the past year—and he finally understood why his mother was unhappy.
It wasn't just concern for his safety. It was because his father wanted him to become a samurai, while his mother wanted him to take over the family sweet shop—a shop she had inherited after her parents' passing.
His father's parents were also gone, a harsh reminder of how difficult survival was in this ancient world.
Despite being a low-ranked samurai, his father had kept their family well-off—but it was clear now that much of their stability came from his mother's earnings. Over the past year, he had overheard countless conversations where his father asked his mother for money.
—
Meanwhile, he had started training with a wooden sword—or, at least, playing with one.
Through observation, he learned an important fact: he wouldn't be allowed to begin proper samurai training until he turned six.
By the time he turned three years old, he had become an older brother to a six-month-old baby girl named Matsuda Meriko.
After realizing he was determined to become a samurai, his mother had decided to have another child, hoping to pass the family sweet shop to them instead. When he was two and a half, she gave birth to a daughter.
That same year, he was introduced to the neighboring children, but he never played with them. Though he appeared to be a toddler, his consciousness was that of a 20-year-old, with two additional years spent in this world.
He also learned the name of their town—Entori- which was ruled by a lord from the Mori family.
Aside from these changes, his daily life remained the same as the year before.
When he turned four years old, a month later, he was sent to study at an old man's house.
There, he found three boys and two girls, all his age.
He began learning how to write and gained a deeper understanding of the world around him.
He discovered that he lived in a land called Athia, a region not unified, where various lords controlled different territories.
The lord of Entori, the town he lived in, was Mori Tsuki—and he ruled only this town.
He also learned that to become a lord, one had to first become a high-ranking samurai. Only then could they establish a town and claim lordship.
Beneath the lord were his retainers, made up of middle- and lower-ranked samurai.
When he turned five years old, alongside his studies with the old man, his father sent him to the lord's house to learn the way of the sword and what it meant to become a samurai.
He discovered that becoming a samurai required one to awaken chakra within their body. There were two ways to achieve this:
1. Training the body until the chakra awakened naturally.
2. Receiving assistance from a samurai to awaken it.
However, there was no difference in the results between the two methods.
Samurai were divided into five ranks:
- Apprentice Samurai
- Lower-Ranked Samurai
- Middle-Ranked Samurai
- Higher-Ranked Samurai
- Divine Samurai
To his surprise, he found that the cultivation method of the samurai was similar to the Eight Gates technique from the Naruto world. This realization led him to excitedly ask his parents and teachers if ninjas existed in this world, but the answer was a disappointing no.
To become an Apprentice Samurai, one had to open the Gate of Opening, located in the brain.
However, unlike in Naruto, here, a person could not progress unless they fully controlled the energy released upon opening each gate. It was possible to forcefully open the next gate, but doing so was considered the wrong path.
The ranking system was as follows:
- Lower-Ranked Samurai – Open the Second Gate
- Middle-Ranked Samurai – Open the Fourth Gate
- Higher-Ranked Samurai – Open the Sixth Gate
- Divine Samurai: Open the Eighth Gate
Opening the Eighth Gate caused one's lifespan to wither away. However, before that happened, one had to form a chakra channel connecting all eight gates. If successful, they would transcend their mortal limits and become a Divine Samurai, adding a lifespan of over a decade.
He also learned that a day's walk north of the town led to the ocean, and both the west and east were also bordered by the sea. To the south, however, lay the territory of Lord Niwai Hideaki, an enemy of their own Lord Mori Tsuki, who frequently blocked the flow of goods into their town.
Traveling by sea was also extremely difficult. For nine months of the year, violent storms made sailing nearly impossible, leaving only three months in spring as a safe window for travel. However, even during that time, pirates posed a significant threat.
He was born in the summer, and as the years passed, it was now three months before his sixth birthday. That year, his father left home, having been assigned as one of the guards on a ship.
His father returned a week before his sixth birthday. When he saw him, an overwhelming happiness filled his heart. It was then that he became truly aware—he had come to see his father and mother as his real parents, despite knowing this world could be nothing more than a dream, a reality shaped by someone's imagination and the power of dreams. Perhaps it was because, in his past life, he had been an orphan, and for the first time, he was experiencing the unconditional love of parents.
That day, he asked his father about his dreams and learned that he hoped for someone in their family to become a lord one day. He already knew his mother's wish, so in his free time, he began learning the art of making sweets from her.
----
In a Japanese-style house, a man with short hair and a cut on his cheek walked down the corridor. Stopping in front of a door, he knocked.
"Kanoru, wake up."
Hearing no answer, he opened the door, only to find the room empty.
"He's not here," he muttered to himself.
Thinking someone might know where his son was, he turned toward the kitchen but was stopped by a little girl standing in his path.
Meriko's face turned sour. "Papa, you're awake?"
From the way she spoke, he could tell she thought he had done something wrong.
Bending down, he picked her up. "Yes, Meriko, Papa is awake."
Still pouting, Meriko said, "Brother told me to wake Papa up."
He smiled, understanding why she was upset. She always listened to everything her brother said.
"How about this, Meriko? I'll tell Kanoru that you woke me up."
Her face lit up for a moment but then quickly fell again, scrunching up in conflict.
"Brother said lying is bad. If you lie, your nose grows longer."
He chuckled. "Yes, yes, lying is bad."
Then, he continued, "Meriko, can you tell me where your brother is?"
"Brother is in the garden, dancing with his sword."
He smiled wryly. "Brother isn't dancing; he's practicing his sword moves."
Meriko's tiny face twisted in defiance. "No! Brother is dancing."
He sighed. A few days ago, at a trade celebration party, she had seen a dance performance, and ever since, she had insisted that her brother's sword practice was also a dance.
With her still in his arms, he walked toward the garden, where he saw Kanoru practicing with his sword.
Meriko shouted excitedly, "Brother, Papa is here!"
Kanoru turned around to see Father carrying Meriko. He set down his wooden sword and walked toward them, smiling at his little sister.
"Thank you, Meriko, for waking up Papa."
Meriko's face fell. "Papa was already awake."
Father spoke gently, "But Meriko helped Father find Brother."
Her frown vanished for a moment, replaced by a fleeting smile. Just then, they heard Mother's voice.
"Meriko, where are you?"
Father set Meriko down. "Go, your Mama is calling."
Kanoru nodded as he watched her walk away, then turned to his father.
"Father, let's start."
His father looked at him with concern. "You remember the location of the Gate of Opening?"
"Yes."
"Don't try to open it on the first attempt. Wear down the barrier first. I have plenty of chakra, so you can try as many times as you can handle."
Kanoru nodded, sat down on the wooden floor, and closed his eyes. His father stepped behind him, placing a hand on his back.
A wisp of chakra entered Kanoru's body. He focused his willpower, trying to gain control over it.
On the third attempt, he succeeded.
Guiding the chakra wisp through his channels, he directed it toward the first gate in his brain, rubbing against the barrier—slowly at first, then steadily picking up speed.
His father had only infused a small amount of chakra, so after some time, it was fully consumed.
"Again."
He followed the same process, repeating the cycle until, on the seventh attempt, the Gate of Opening unlocked.
A surge of chakra formed within him. After a while, he closed the gate, but the chakra remained.
Now, his body could generate chakra naturally—he no longer needed to force the gate open.
He thought to himself, "I am now an Apprentice Samurai."