Arthev stepped out of the teaching office, the faint echo of Director Su's rabbit warning still ringing in his ears. The late afternoon sun hung low, painting the academy courtyard in shades of gold and amber. Students milled about, some lugging bags for the holiday, others lingering in small clusters, their laughter bouncing off the stone walls. For a moment, he envied their carefree chatter—but only for a moment. He had bigger things to chase than idle gossip.
Back in the dormitory, Arthev moved with quiet efficiency. He knelt beside his bed, pulling out the leather pouch he'd stashed earlier. Inside was the parchment he'd scribbled on over countless restless nights—a crude map pieced together from his dreams. The lines were shaky, smudged in places where sleep had blurred his memory, but they pointed somewhere northwest of Nuoding City. A winding trail, a jagged cliff, a circle of trees older than the academy itself. He traced a finger along the path, his brow furrowing slightly. If this place exists, it's not in the story I know. And if it's not… what does that mean for me?
He tucked the map back into the pouch, then added a few essentials: a waterskin, kunai and shurikens,a coil of rope, and a handful of dried rations he'd made. Not exactly a feast, he thought wryly, but it'll keep me alive long enough to figure this out. His hand hesitated over his training weights—two iron bands he'd worn during his morning routines—but he left them behind. Speed mattered more than strength where he was going.
As he slung the pouch over his shoulder, a shadow fell across the doorway. Arthev glanced up to see Wang Sheng leaning against the frame, arms crossed and a grin plastered across his face.
"Heading out already?" Wang Sheng asked, his tone teasing. "Thought you'd at least say goodbye before disappearing into the sunset like some lone hero."
Arthev straightened, meeting Wang Sheng's gaze with a smile. "I'm not the hero type. Too much trouble. You're still here, though—shouldn't you be cramming for that intermediate exam?"
Wang Sheng groaned, running a hand through his hair. "Don't remind me. Xiao Chen-Yu's got his nose in a book thicker than my arm, and I'm starting to think I should've paid more attention in class. But you—you're dodging the holiday like it's a spirit beast. What's the deal?"
"No deal," Arthev said smoothly, adjusting the strap on his pouch. "Just taking a walk. Clearing my head."
"A walk?" Wang Sheng raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. "With a bag packed like you're about to climb a mountain? Come on, Arthev, you're too smart to think I'd buy that."
Arthev chuckled, a rare sound that caught Wang Sheng off guard. "Alright, call it a long walk. If I'm not back in two weeks, you can tell Director Su I ran off to join the rabbits."
Wang Sheng snorted, shaking his head. "Rabbits, huh? Better watch out—they might be small, but I hear they've got a mean kick. Seriously, though, don't get yourself killed out there. Xiao Wu'd never forgive you for leaving her with just Tang San to tease."
"Noted," Arthev replied, his smirk softening into something almost fond. "Good luck with the exam, Wang Sheng. Try not to fail too spectacularly."
"Hey!" Wang Sheng called after him as Arthev stepped past, but the protest dissolved into a laugh.
Arthev waved a hand without looking back, his footsteps steady as he left the dormitory behind. The academy gates loomed ahead, their iron bars casting long shadows across the path. Beyond them lay Nuoding City—and beyond that, the unknown.
The next morning dawned crisp and clear, the kind of day that promised adventure whether you wanted it or not. Arthev stood at the city's edge, the bustle of merchants and travelers fading into a distant hum. His breath misted in the cool air as he studied the horizon. Northwest. That's where the dreams pointed. He adjusted his pouch one last time, then set off, his pace deliberate but unhurried.
The road stretched out before him, flanked by rolling fields and the occasional copse of trees. For the first few hours, it was uneventful—birds chirped, a farmer's cart rumbled past, and the sun climbed higher. Arthev's mind, though, was anything but idle. Two years at level 9, he thought, his eyes narrowing slightly. Physical training's fine, but my soul power's stuck. That hum I feel when I meditate—it's not my imagination. Something's holding me back, and these dreams… they're the key.
By midday, the fields gave way to denser woods, the path narrowing into a trail barely wide enough for two. Arthev paused, pulling out his map. The sketch was rough, but a jagged line he'd drawn matched the cliff he could just make out through the trees. He was close—closer than he'd expected. A faint thrill stirred in his chest, tempered by the calm logic that kept him grounded. If this is real, I need to be ready. No telling what's waiting.
He pressed on, the air growing cooler as the trees thickened. The sounds of the world softened—birdsong faded, replaced by the rustle of leaves and the distant trickle of a stream. Then, as he rounded a bend, he saw it.
A grove stood ahead, its trees towering and gnarled, their bark twisted into patterns that looked almost deliberate. Roots sprawled across the ground like veins, pulsing with a faint, greenish glow. At the center, half-hidden by shadow, was a ruin—a crumbling archway of stone, weathered by time but still standing. Arthev's breath caught, not from fear, but from recognition. This is it. The dream.
He stepped forward, his hand resting lightly on the knife at his hip. The air hummed, a low vibration that sank into his bones. It was the same feeling he'd sensed in meditation—the invisible force, now undeniable. His lips curved into a faint, determined smile.
"Alright," he murmured to himself, his voice steady despite the unknown stretching before him. "Let's see what you've been hiding."