CHAPTER 4

Morning came. The boy’s father woke first, his head heavy and his body aching. The pressure from the previous night had left him drained. It was not a physical wound, but his body felt as if it had been torn apart countless times. Still, he was alive.

He looked around, and his eyes fell on the boy. Austin sat slumped in a chair, fast asleep, his small hands clutching the sword. His face was calm, almost innocent, as if he were just a child resting after a long day.

The father’s heart sank. I cannot do anything for his future, he thought sadly. I am only a second-rate mercenary, able to take escort jobs at most. Second-rate work barely pays enough to live.

Shaking off his thoughts, he gently reached out. “Austin, wake up. It’s already morning.”

The boy stirred, a little line of drool on his cheek. Rubbing his eyes, he blinked and smiled. “Uh-huh… Father, you’re already awake.” His voice was soft and innocent.

Then he added, “You passed out after the carriage went by.”

The father stiffened at the memory. It was normal for him to collapse under such terrifying pressure, but what shocked him was that the boy had endured it without harm.

“How are you fine after experiencing that?” he asked, his voice uneasy. “And why does it feel like your qi is more stable than before?”

Austin tilted his head, thinking. “While the carriages passed, I suddenly felt a surge of power, like someone lent me a hand. As for my qi stabilizing… I don’t really know, Father. Maybe it’s because of that power.”

The father stared at him for a long moment. He could not understand it, but he lacked the strength and knowledge to uncover the truth. In the end, he nodded. “Alright. Then it seems our trip brought blessings after all.”

“Yes, Father,” Austin replied with a bright smile, his eyes warm as he looked at him.

The boy smiled at his father, the warmth of family easing all worries. For a moment, inside that small home, the world felt calm.

But far from the small house, deep in the forest, the mysterious figure who had appeared in Austin’s house walked alone beneath the trees with a dignified gait. His face was calm and unreadable, but his eyes were hard and ruthless, like a poker face that never softened. Each step felt measured, as if he were a man used to command and fear.

He thought of the boy and muttered to himself, "I should not have helped him three times."

"First, I gave him qi so he could resist that terrible pressure. Second, I gave him another qi to help him carry his father. Third, I unclogged his meridians so his qi could flow. I do not like to be tied to other people's fates, yet I keep pulling at this thread."

He remembered that when he tried to approach, the boy had panicked at a rabbit's sudden sound and had even leapt over him to carry his father away. The sight had made the man both annoyed and strangely curious.

"Perhaps it is fate," he said quietly. "Perhaps the heavens guide me when I do not wish to be guided. Or perhaps trouble is coming, and this boy is a piece in that trouble."

As he finished the thought, a faint shimmer appeared before him. A barrier opened like a curtain, and he stepped through without hesitation.

On the other side rose a great wall with a wide gate. Above the gate hung a heavy signboard with the words DEMON CULT carved upon it. Before the gate stood countless fighters, each radiating sharp qi and carrying weapons that glinted in the dim light.

At once they knelt and shouted as one, their voices full of force and qi, "WELCOME BACK, OUR LORD!"

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