It was a beautiful day.
The kind of beauty that didn't belong to the old world.
There were no car horns. No engines. No endless digital voices barking orders from screens. No smog. No meetings. No job applications. No news alerts that rang louder than your thoughts.Just stillness.
The sky stretched wide and impossibly blue, as if it had finally remembered how to breathe. A gentle mist clung to the earth, not heavy or choking, but alive — dancing in the sunlight like spirits that had waited a long time to be seen.
Some said it was spiritual energy — qi — returning to the world after centuries of silence. Others simply called it "the mist." Whatever it was, it made the light shimmer strangely. Trees looked greener here. Stones more ancient. The very air felt watchful.
But the people in the settlement were uneasy.
Doors creaked open slowly. Faces emerged, drawn and wary. Conversations were hushed, short, and strained. The few children allowed outside clung to their parents' sides, not daring to run or laugh.
Once, this place had been an outpost during the final wars — a battlefield littered with rusted machines and burnt banners. Now, decades later, wildflowers had claimed the ruins. Nature had woven over the past like a shroud.
At first glance, it almost looked like peace.
But peace doesn't taste like fear.
From the broken stone courtyard to the makeshift homes built of scavenged wood and plastic-sheeting, a gloom weighed over everything. Not just the kind that came after bad news — but the kind that came before worse things.
On the old platform, Elder Kuo stood silently, his face unreadable. His eyes swept over the villagers — the quiet baker, the tense guard, the hunter sharpening his blade twice more than needed. Everything had changed in a night.
Two extra guards took position at the wooden gate, shifting uneasily. The walls had been enough once — not because they were strong, but because they'd never been tested.
A cluster of villagers huddled near the well, steam rising from tin mugs. The morning sun painted everything gold, but their faces were grave, tongues looser than usual.
"Did you hear? The girl came back."
"Alive?"
"Aye. Limping. Covered in blood, but not hers."
"But she was the offering. That was decided."
"That's the thing. They said she dragged someone back with her. A boy."
A boy leaning on a broom frowned.
"Thought she was dead for sure. My uncle said the pact was clear — the god takes the life and protect us."
"Not a god," an older woman muttered, eyes darting around. "It was..."
"Don't speak that name!" someone snapped.
A pause, then more whispers, now more animated.
"Who was he? The boy she brought?"
"Maybe a cultivator. The way the statue was broken... split right down the chest like lightning struck it."
"Statue's gone?"
"Shattered."
Gasps.
"Then we're cursed."
"Or freed."
"Don't be stupid. If the god's dead, who keeps the monsters at bay?"
One woman clutched her shawl tighter.
"She wasn't even one of us. Wandered in just last season. Said her family were merchants, killed by beasts or something. She had a guard, remember? That poor man didn't last the night."
"Probably bandits."
"Cultivators," someone else interjected, always too confidently. "She was running from them. My nephew heard from the hunters."
"No, no — I heard she came from a fallen sect. Used to be rich."
"Bah. You lot don't know anything."
Voices overlapped. Assumptions bred stories, which bred certainty in the minds of those who wanted it.
"Either way, the pact's broken."
"And the elders haven't said a word."
"They're scared."
A child ran past, chasing a feathered reed toy. None of the adults smiled.
"Double the watch tonight," someone muttered. "The veil's thin now."
And just like that, they dispersed. Cups emptied, words spent — the only thing that lingered was uncertainty. And fear.
---
[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION]
Initial Scan Complete.
Host vitals: Stabilizing...
Spiritual Core: Dormant
Cultivation: None
Energy Flow: Blocked
External Trauma: 72% recovered
Internal Damage: Moderate
Forced Awakening Protocol: Initiated
[WARNING]
Host consciousness is below operable threshold.
Initiating Dream-Wake Mode...
The dull ache of his body slowly sharpened into focus. The numbness receded, and with it, the fractured memories of the previous night's battle began to reform.
He remembered the clash, the fight, the girl — but everything felt distant, like fragments of a half-forgotten dream. His head was heavy, and each breath felt strained, yet there was an undeniable pull, a pressing urgency.
Was it real?
His eyes cracked open, greeted by the soft glow of early morning light. The room he was in was modest, the curtains faded, a distant scent of herbs and something metallic lingering in the air. The world outside was still hazy, as his body felt like a prison of sluggishness.
Then something reminded him this wasn't a dream.
A soft ding broke through the silence, and his mind jolted awake with recognition.
---
[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION]
Celestial Net Stabilized.
Spiritual Core: Low Energy
Time Remaining: 5 Days
Current Quest: Breakthrough to Qi Condensation required
Failure to complete within time frame will result in System Deactivation.
---
The words weighed heavily on his chest.
The Celestial Net, the mysterious force that had been stabilizing his connection to the system, had only just become functional — his link to the energy of this world was now fully operational. The system's notifications were more detailed now, its voice sharper and more direct.
---
[SYSTEM UPDATE DETECTED]
Quest: "Survive the Wave (Adv)" – Status: Completed
Rewards: +200 Coin, Abyssal Shard (Small) x1, Skill Fragment x3
New Trait Unlocked: "Survivor's Spark"
Auto-Skill Detected: "Last Stand: Lv. 1 (Locked)"
Unlock Conditions: Reach Qi Condensation (Primary) Stage
---
The seven days had been given before the battle — the fight with the eidolons, the girl's near-sacrifice, everything that had spiraled into chaos. But the reality was, he had already slept for another day. Now, he had only five days left. His survival hinged on this short window of time.
The System's urgency was clear. Five days to reach Qi Condensation or risk losing everything — his link to the system, his chance to survive, and his hope for the future. But how could he cultivate a spiritual core in such a short time? He had no teacher, no guidance. The Celestial Net had become his lifeline, but it wasn't enough to guide him through the complicated process of cultivation.
He needed resources, training, or some kind of breakthrough. Most importantly...
Where... am I? The question echoed louder than the pain, his mind scrambling for anything familiar, anything that could offer an explanation. The room was still — too still. He felt trapped between the world he remembered and the one he found himself in.
The room felt too quiet. Outside, the settlement was waking up to a new day, but Lu Chen was still trying to understand what had happened to him, and more importantly, how to make it through the next five days.
He tried to sit up, but his body disagreed. Muscles locked. Ribs ached. The weight of exhaustion was like stone laid over flesh.
A soft knock came at the door.
It opened a moment later without waiting for permission.
An old man entered, his long grey hair tied back, a woven pouch of tools slung over his shoulder. His robes were simple, stained with herbs and dried medicine. He moved with quiet precision, eyes sharp behind wrinkled lids. A healer, clearly — though he didn't bother with pleasantries.
Trailing behind him was the girl.
Lu Chen blinked, trying to focus. She looked different in the morning light. Not exactly fragile — just… real. She was about Lu Chen's current age. Maybe a year younger. She was still wearing the ceremonial robe.
Once white, it was now stained at the hem with dried mud and streaks of ash. Gold-stitched patterns of clouds and plum blossoms ran across the fabric, frayed in places, faded in others. The sleeves were too long, dragging near her knuckles, and a tear at the side revealed glimpses of the plain clothes beneath. Her hair had come undone — hastily tied back but loose around her face, strands clinging to a thin smear of blood along her jaw.
She didn't speak. Just stood by the door, watching.
"Hmph," the old man grunted as he approached. "Still breathing. Surprising."
Lu Chen coughed, weakly. "Charming."
The doctor ignored that and dropped his pouch on the bedside stool. Fingers worked fast, checking pulse, lifting eyelids, prodding old wounds.
"You'll live," he said. "Barely. But don't get clever. You've got internal bruising, qi deviation, and something else I don't even have a name for. Spirit trauma, maybe. Either way, if you start convulsing or speaking in tongues, I'll assume it's not a good sign."
"Comforting," Lu Chen muttered.
Behind him, the girl almost smiled.
The doctor began preparing something from his pouch — dried roots, crushed amber resin, a tiny flask of something pungent.
"I gave him half a spirit berry," she said quietly. "It was all I had."
The doctor paused, glancing at her. "You should've taken it yourself."
Her jaw tensed, but she didn't reply.
With a grunt, the doctor handed a cup to Lu Chen. "Drink. It'll burn going down. But better pain than death."
Lu Chen sipped — and immediately regretted it. The liquid was fire and ash and copper. His lungs seized, but within moments, he could feel his chest expand more freely.
"You're lucky she dragged you back," the doctor said. "Another hour out there and you'd have been mist-bait."
The girl shifted slightly, uncomfortable.
"She insisted," the doctor added, voice softer now. "Refused to leave you."
Lu Chen looked at her again. The morning light caught her eyes, and for a moment, he forgot the pain.
"Thanks... for saving me," he said.
She gave a small nod. No words. Just a quiet acknowledgment, as if gratitude was too heavy to carry aloud.
Then she turned to go — the hem of her ceremonial robe whispering against the floor — but not before her gaze lingered. Just a second too long. Enough to say what neither of them could.
And then she was gone.