Hope had just entered the outer perimeter of Flamedragon Mountain when he immediately sensed the fiery energy pulsing in the air around him. It was as if the very essence of fire was being transmitted to him, its mysteries unraveling before his senses. He couldn’t help but think, ‘If I could cultivate here for even a short while, my fire intent would advance by leaps and bounds.’

  Though he focused some of his attention on understanding the fire’s presence, the majority of it was dedicated to scanning the area for signs of the Flame Wyvern. His priority was to locate it first, so he could devise a plan.

  As he ventured deeper into the forest, it felt as though he had stepped into a forge. The surroundings were bathed in a crimson hue, the glow of the mountain reflecting off the thick air. The fire element seemed to grow more and more intense with every step, yet Hope didn’t feel discomfort. Instead, he sensed his body slowly being refined by the relentless heat—painfully slow, but progress nonetheless.

  Suddenly, faint voices reached his ears.

  Hope glanced down at the little one, which was clutching his already tattered uniform with its claws. He whispered, “Hold tight from now on.”

  The little one understood, its eyes blinking in acknowledgment, and tightened its grip on the fabric.

  Hope’s hand instinctively went to the hilt of his sword, ready to draw it if the situation called for it. He moved carefully toward the source of the voices.

  Soon, he reached a small clearing, where he saw three individuals. Two women and a man, all wearing sect robes of gold. They appeared to be in their early twenties, and from the looks of their cultivation, Hope could tell they were no slouches.

  His senses reached out, assessing their levels. The two women were at the peak of Spirit Awakening, impressive for their age but not exactly prodigious. The man, however, stood at the mid-level of Will Refinement—definitely a genius.

  As Hope observed them, the trio soon took notice of his presence as well.

  The shorter woman had long brown hair and brown eyes. As she scanned Hope with a scrutinizing gaze, she noticed the fluctuations in his Qi. Without hesitation, she remarked, “Early Soul Resonance. Too low.” She shook her head dismissively.

  The taller woman, with dark hair and piercing blue eyes, slowly shook her head. “Hila, we shouldn’t judge others based on their cultivation.”

  Hila, undeterred, countered, “Strength is everything in this world. Judging someone by their cultivation base is hardly a problem.” She turned to the only man in the group, a questioning look on her face. “Senior brother Asher, am I wrong?”

  The man, Asher, with short black hair and deep brown eyes, sighed. “Junior Sister Hila, how many times have I told you not to drag me into these kinds of discussions?” He paused before adding, “While you’re technically right, you’re also wrong. Eliza’s right—don’t judge people based on their cultivation level.”

  Eliza couldn’t suppress a smile of triumph upon hearing Asher’s words.

  Hope silently observed their interaction, not feeling the need to intervene. He could tell that both girls looked to Asher as their leader, yet he didn’t carry the arrogance one might expect from someone of his cultivation. Instead, there was an easygoing air about him, as if his position didn’t matter much to him.

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  Hila huffed in protest. “Senior brother, don’t tell Eliza she’s right! She’ll rub it in my face for the next week!”

  Eliza immediately jumped in, “That’s not true. I’m simply here to teach you how the world works, Hila. Don’t spread false rumours.” Her tone was one of a patient elder guiding a younger sibling.

  Hila shot back, “Eliza, you’re only one year older than me! What world do you think you’re teaching me about?” She puffed her cheeks, protesting the ‘big sister’ role.

  Asher, on the sidelines, smiled wryly and shook his head. He’d grown accustomed to these playful arguments between the two. Every time they were together, this kind of situation was inevitable.

  Noticing Hope standing silently and observing, Asher decided to approach him. Hope, sensing his movement, turned his attention toward him.

  Asher walked closer and greeted him casually, “Hey, I’m Asher from the Golden Sun Sect.” He gestured toward Eliza, adding, “This is Eliza, also from the same sect.” Then he pointed to Hila. “And this is Hila, Eliza’s blood sister. We’re all Legacy disciples—well, I’m the actual legacy disciple, but those two are daughters of a grand elder, so they kind of count too.” He explained all this without any trace of arrogance or superiority. “So, what’s your name?”

  Hope couldn’t help but think, ‘This is the difference between real geniuses and fools. This guy doesn’t act overbearing, even though his status would allow him to do so with no consequences.’

  Impressed by Asher’s demeanor, Hope responded simply, “I’m Hope.”

  Asher nodded, his curiosity piqued. “Hope, where are you from?”

  Hope didn’t hesitate. “I’m from the Phoenix Cry Pavilion.”

  At the mention of the Phoenix Cry Pavilion, both Hila and Eliza stopped bickering. Their eyes widened in surprise.

  Hila couldn’t help but exclaim, “This kid’s from the Phoenix Cry Pavilion? Are they recruiting children now?”

  Eliza smirked knowingly, as if to say, “I told you so. Never judge people based on their cultivation base.”

  Asher, too, was taken aback. He hadn’t expected someone like Hope to come from the same background as them. He studied Hope more closely, his eyes now noticing the tattered uniform of an outer disciple from the Phoenix Cry Pavilion.

  Asher nodded thoughtfully, about to ask what Hope was doing here alone, when Hope suddenly spoke—words that completely caught him off guard.

  “Where’s the Flame Wyvern? I need it.”

  Asher’s mind nearly short-circuited. ‘This kid’s looking for the Flame Wyvern? I’ve been praying to avoid it, but he’s actively seeking it out. Crazy.’

  Eliza and Hila were equally stunned, both eyeing Hope as if he had lost his mind, though neither of them said anything.

  Hope sensed the shift in their mood but wasn’t surprised. He knew that anyone would find it strange for a kid to want to face a Rank 5 beast.

  After a few moments of silence, Asher cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure. “What do you need it for?” he asked, hoping to clarify Hope's intentions.

  Hope answered indifferently, “I need its beast core.”

  Asher’s mind raced. So, the kid was serious—perhaps even a bit foolish. “The Flame Wyvern is a Rank 5 beast. I wouldn’t recommend going after it.”

  Hope could sense Asher’s concern but simply replied, “It’s for a mission. Do you know where it is?”

  Asher hesitated, wanting to dissuade Hope from what he saw as certain death. He would rather Hope waste his time searching aimlessly than point him toward the wyvern's lair. But before he could speak, Hila interjected.

  “I know where its lair is!” she said with unexpected enthusiasm.

  Hope’s eyes lit up in surprise. He’d asked just to cover all his bases, but he hadn’t expected such a direct answer. “Where is it?” he asked, his voice eager.

  Hila smiled to herself, enjoying the moment before pointing northwest. “Go in that direction. Its lair’s halfway up the mountain, in a cave. It’s about a day’s travel from here.”

  Hope nodded silently, committing the information to memory. “Thank you” he said before preparing to leave.

  Just as he was about to turn away, Eliza called out to him, her voice filled with concern. “Are you seriously going to fight that wyvern? You should leave that mission to stronger cultivators. There’s no need to risk your life.”

  Hope turned slowly, meeting her gaze. “I’m going. I need to improve faster.” With that, he turned and walked away without waiting for them to process his words.

  Hila looked at Eliza, perplexed. “Why do you care so much about that kid? We’ve just met him.”

  Eliza sighed, her tone softening. “Because he doesn’t seem like a bad person.”

  Asher stood off to the side, lost in thought. His expression unreadable, he pondered over something quietly.

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