Sitting cross-legged on the mat, Nile slowly chewed the last bit of his breakfast, though he barely tasted it. The voices of Uncle Sam and the old scholar buzzed around him like the low hum of a distant stream. Their words blended into the background as his mind churned over everything that had happened.
The scholar's voice, aged yet steady, carried a note of nostalgia. "...In the old days, a young cultivator's greatest challenge wasn't their talent, but their discipline. You can give someone all the resources in the world, but without focus, they'll squander it."
Uncle Sam chuckled. "Discipline's a rare thing these days. Kids today rely too much on shortcuts—tools, pills, devices. Back then, you didn't have a crutch. You either worked hard or you didn't make it."
Nile's grip tightened on his empty plate. Their words struck uncomfortably close. He wasn't disciplined, not yet. He'd stumbled his way through everything so far, relying on Jessica's guidance and Maya's begrudging explanations. Even his first encounter with the ASD had been clumsy and accidental.
"Never take a vow lightly." Jessica's warning replayed in his mind. The memory of her sharp glare sent a shiver down his spine. He hadn't realized how reckless he'd been with his words—how a single moment of thoughtlessness could have cost him everything.
The scholar continued, his tone thoughtful. "...But discipline isn't born from comfort. It comes from facing challenges, from being tested. The strongest cultivators I've met weren't those with perfect starts. They were the ones who stumbled, who failed, and kept getting up."
Uncle Sam grunted in agreement. "True enough. That's what builds character. A little hardship doesn't hurt—it shapes you."
Nile swallowed hard, the lump in his throat making it difficult. Am I just stumbling? Or am I shaping myself?
He thought about the green sphere, about the fragile connection he'd felt when it finally stabilized. That moment of clarity had been brief, but it had sparked something inside him—a faint sense of control over the chaos.
Uncle Sam's voice broke through his thoughts. "...The real test isn't just learning the rules of the world. It's figuring out how to bend them without breaking yourself."
Bending the rules... Nile glanced down at his ASD. His unique imprint, the strange decimal value that had caused Jessica and Maya so much concern—it was more than a mystery. It was a responsibility. If he didn't understand it, didn't learn to harness it, it wouldn't just hold him back. It could make him a target.
The scholar spoke again, softer this time. "The journey of a cultivator is lonely, no matter how many companions you have. At the end of the day, you stand alone in the face of your trials. But that's where you find your strength."
Nile's gaze drifted to the campfire, its flames flickering in the soft morning light. He'd been swept along by everyone else's plans so far—Jessica, Maya, even the strange forces shaping this world. But for how much longer?
"This is my story," he thought. "If I don't take control of it, someone else will."
He tuned back into the conversation just as the scholar finished a story about his younger days. Uncle Sam laughed heartily, clapping for the old man. "You've got wisdom to spare, old teacher. Maybe some of it will rub off on this young one here."
Nile blinked, realizing they were both looking at him now.
"Ah, to be young and full of potential," the scholar said with a smile. "What do you think, lad? Ready to shape your own path?"
Nile managed a small smile, the weight of his resolve settling in his chest. "Yeah," he said, his voice steady. "I think I'm starting to understand."
Nile had barely recovered from his brief moment of self-realization when Uncle Sam's hearty voice broke the silence again.
"Well, I'll be damned. Looks like the old scholar's got some wisdom left in him after all," Uncle Sam said with a wide grin. "But enough talk about philosophy. Let me introduce you properly to our esteemed guest here."
Nile looked up, half expecting the elderly scholar to continue with his stories, but instead, the old man stood up with surprising vigor for someone of his age.
"This is Principal Hector, a retired Grade 5 Adventurer. In his prime, he was known across the island for his skills and bravery. Now, he's found his calling back here in the village as the principal of the school. He's the one who's made this little village school what it is today, training many of our children to be capable cultivators and adventurers."
Nile's eyes widened. A retired Grade 5 Adventurer? That was no small feat. In the world of cultivation and adventuring, Grade 5 was a prestigious level—someone who had mastered not only their body but their spirit and mana to the highest degree. It was the kind of title that legends were made of.
Principal Hector chuckled, clearly used to the awe that came with his reputation. "Don't mind Sam's exaggerations. I'm just an old man trying to keep my hands busy. I may have hung up my sword, but the journey of teaching is just as important as the one I used to travel."
Uncle Sam, still beaming, added, "The old man here is one of the main reasons this village has produced some of the best talents. You'll find a few of the village's best four stars being sent to the city school this year, Nile. And you're in for quite the sight. Those four are our pride."
Nile nodded, trying to digest the weight of the information. Four stars of the village? He had heard whispers of such titles but never fully understood what it meant.
The old scholar—Principal Hector—was already moving towards the small group of children who had gathered around a fire near the edge of the camp. "We'll be heading to town soon for the enrollment tests. These kids," Hector gestured to a dozen young faces, "are the ones who've graduated from the village school. They'll be taking their entrance exams at the town school. Some of them are a little nervous, but they've got the talent. It's a big day for them."
Nile glanced over at the group of young children, all dressed in simple but neat clothes, each one looking either excited or slightly apprehensive about the upcoming journey. He could sense the ambition in their eyes, the desire to prove themselves.