I sat on the forest floor, the rogue cultivator’s lifeless body sprawled in the dirt beside me. My hand tightened around the dagger, its edge dull with the smear of battle. The question hung in the air like the suffocating weight of the night: “If this is what it takes to survive, how much of myself will I have to lose?”

  Mira’s voice, calm and unwavering, cut through the silence.

  Her words didn’t comfort me. If anything, they unsettled me further. I stared down at my hands, blood-streaked and trembling. This wasn’t the person I used to be—the version of myself that cared about a quiet life, about making it through the grind of daily existence back on Earth. This person was a stranger, a desperate survivor willing to take another life to protect his own.

  “How do I keep from losing everything?” I asked, my voice low.

  I nodded slowly, her words sinking into the recesses of my thoughts. I glanced at the rogue cultivator’s body, noticing the faint shimmer of a pouch tied to his belt. My curiosity sparked, and I reached for it cautiously.

  Inside were a few small, crystalline fragments that glinted faintly under the moonlight. Spirit shards—currency in this world, as Mira had explained. Judging by the dull glow, they were low-grade shards, but even these carried value.

  I pocketed the shards, my thoughts heavy with contemplation. “It’s all about taking, isn’t it? Taking life, taking resources, taking what you need to survive.”

  I stood, weary but resolute, and cast one last look at the rogue cultivator. Whatever had driven him to madness and desperation, it was a fate I intended to avoid. I didn’t know if that was possible, but I wouldn’t stop trying.

  As I made my way back through the forest, the weight of the fight lingered in my steps. The shadows felt thicker now, the air heavier with the realization that this world didn’t play by any rules I understood. The trees loomed over me like silent judges, their gnarled branches whispering secrets I couldn’t hear.

  ****

  When I reached the edge of the village, I saw the faint flicker of torches. Eren stood at the gate, his face lighting up with relief when he saw me.

  “You’re back,” he said, rushing forward. His eyes darted to the bloodstains on my tunic. “Are you hurt?”

  “I’ll be fine,” I replied gruffly, brushing past him. The warmth of the firelight beckoned, but it felt hollow against the cold reality of the forest.

  Eren followed me closely. “Did you find what it was? A beast?”

  “No,” I said after a pause. “It was worse.”

  The villagers gathered near the fire, their conversations halting as I entered the square. Elder Thalric approached, his expression one of concern and curiosity.

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  “What did you encounter, Jayson?” he asked, his voice low.

  I met his gaze evenly. “A rogue cultivator. He was crazed, desperate, and far more skilled than me. He’s dead now.”

  A murmur rippled through the crowd. Cultivators were rare in this village, and the thought of a rogue among them sent waves of unease.

  Elder Thalric frowned, his hand tightening on his staff. “Rogue cultivators are dangerous. They have abandoned the balance of cultivation, pursuing power at any cost. Their presence near the village could mean others are lurking.”

  I nodded. “We need to prepare. This wasn’t a random encounter. If there’s one, there could be more.”

  The elder’s face darkened. “We’ll double the sentries. Thank you, Jayson, for protecting us.”

  I didn’t respond. Instead, I turned away, heading for the edge of the square. The villagers’ gratitude felt misplaced. I wasn’t their savior—I was just trying to survive in a world that seemed determined to break me.

  ****

  Later that night, I sat alone outside the hut the villagers had offered me. The stars above glittered in an unfamiliar pattern, a reminder of how far I was from everything I once knew. Mira’s voice returned, softer this time.

  I looked down at my hands, the faint shimmer of Chi now visible in my fingertips. The rogue cultivator’s shards weighed heavy in my pocket, a grim token of what I’d gained and lost in that fight.

  “Embrace it, huh?” I muttered. “Easier said than done.”

  I didn’t answer immediately. As I sat there, watching the flickering shadows of the village fires and the endless canopy of stars, my thoughts drifted to the stories I used to immerse myself in back on Earth. Tales of martial artists who rose from nothing, who trained tirelessly, overcoming impossible odds through skill, knowledge, and sheer determination.

  The idea tugged at my mind, a faint glimmer of hope amidst the chaos of this new world.

  “As I was thinking about how I’m supposed to grow stronger,” I said slowly, trying to put the thought into words, “I remembered those martial arts novels I used to read. Mira, does this world have… I don’t know, technique books? Training manuals for abilities, like in those Xianxia stories?”

  Mira’s voice was steady, as if amused by the comparison.

  Her words sent a jolt through me. Suddenly, this world felt just a little less alien, its mysteries a little less overwhelming. “So, I can learn these techniques? I don’t have to just scrape by?”

  I leaned back, staring at the flickering firelight and the forest beyond. Her answer filled me with equal parts excitement and dread. Technique manuals, hidden ruins, and powerful sects—it all sounded like something pulled straight from those stories I used to read. But this wasn’t fiction. It was real, and the stakes were life and death.

  “Great cost, huh?” I murmured to myself, feeling the weight of it all settle on my chest. “Well, I guess I don’t have much of a choice, do I?”

  The quiet stretched on as I sat there, wrestling with the enormity of what lay ahead. Somewhere in the vastness of this strange world was the knowledge I needed, and I would find it—no matter what it took.