Evan's early life had been modest but nurturing. He was born and raised in this small, forgotten village that seemed like a tiny dot on the grand map of Virea. His mother, Mara, was a hard-working woman with gentle eyes and strong hands, skilled in weaving and herbal medicine. She never spoke much about Evan's father, who had died mysteriously just before Evan was born. All that was left of him was an inscrutable, simple ring, and a story shrouded in unanswered questions.
The village had always been insular, a community bound by traditions and a simple way of life. While they had heard of cultivators and their exploits, their limited understanding was garnered from the stories of travelers and old books that had long lost their luster. Consequently, cultivation wasn't a part of their daily lives; the community found more value in the tangible—farming, hunting, and craftsmanship.
Though his physique was frail, and his Qi potential seemingly low, Evan never felt ostracized. The villagers were a warm and accepting folk, placing value on community over individual prowess. Old Thomas, the village carpenter, was a testament to this culture. His Qi pool was nothing to boast about, but his wisdom and skill made him one of the village's most respected members.
However, Evan always felt a sort of 'calling,' as though some greater destiny lay ahead of him. Perhaps it was the blood of his enigmatic father flowing through his veins, or maybe it was the natural yearning of a young boy seeking something beyond the horizon; either way, Evan couldn't shake off the feeling that he was meant for something more.
It was a dream that seemed almost impossible given his current circumstances. Yet, Evan held onto it, nurturing the flame of aspiration against the winds of reality. Even as he went about his daily chores and mingled with his neighbors, his mind was often adrift, contemplating the unseen, untapped world of possibilities that cultivation could offer. And so, each day became a step, albeit a small one, towards the path he was so eager to tread.
In the heart of the village stood an ancient stone obelisk, covered in moss and indecipherable runes. This monument was said to be as old as the village itself, and the elders claimed it was a relic from the time when gods and mythical beings still roamed the earth. According to fragmented legends, their village was founded by a great cultivator who had reached an unfathomable stage of enlightenment. However, after millions of years, the stories became myths, myths became fables, and fables became mere children's tales.
The villagers, though respectful of the obelisk, were largely indifferent to its lore. Many considered it a historical artifact—impressive but irrelevant. They would gather around it during festivals and special occasions, draping it with fresh flowers and offerings, but none truly believed that their humble community was ever a significant part of the mythic era it harked back to.
In the absence of any substantial historical text or evidence, the sense of magic and wonder that should have surrounded such a monument was replaced by the mundaneness of everyday life. Farming and hunting took precedence over storytelling and folklore. Few, if any, gave much thought to the possibility that their ancestry might be interwoven with elements of the extraordinary.
Evan, however, was different. The old obelisk intrigued him. Whenever he passed it, which was almost daily as it stood in the village's central square, he would look up at it and wonder. Was the village really founded by a powerful cultivator? What stage had he reached? Could he, Evan, ever aspire to something so grand?
While the village saw an old rock, Evan saw a monument to forgotten possibilities—a symbol that even the most unassuming places might have connections to grand destinies. The worn runes that nobody could read? To Evan, they were like locked doors guarding ancient secrets, doors he wished he could one day unlock. And as he collected woods from the surrounding forest, practicing his physical conditioning despite his limitations, he would often steal glances at the obelisk, drawing a sense of mystery and inspiration from it.
He had no way of knowing that his life was about to take a turn, one that would bring him closer to the monument's forgotten significance. And as Evan lived his quiet life, the obelisk stood still and silent—as if waiting for something, or someone, to awaken the stories carved into its ancient stone.
Beyond the boundaries of the village lay the Great Forest, a sprawling expanse of untamed wilderness that harbored mysteries and dangers alike. In the proximity of the village, the forest was home to animals commonly seen and hunted—rabbits that hopped through the undergrowth, sheep grazing in the few open meadows, tigers lurking in the shadows, and wolves howling to the moon at night. The villagers had learned to live in a fragile coexistence with these creatures, hunting them for food and skins but also respecting the balance of the forest ecosystem.
However, deeper into the forest was a realm even the bravest hunters of the village seldom ventured. Old Thomas, the village carpenter who once was an adventurous hunter, would warn the younger ones, "Go too far, and you step into a world not meant for Mortals." According to fragmented stories passed down through generations, those depths were infested with Monsters—beings born from the residues of powerful cultivation techniques, corrupted by dark Qi, or spawned by the very essence of the wilderness itself. Unlike the wolves or tigers that a skilled hunter could take down, these Monsters were on a different scale altogether—creatures so powerful that even cultivators would risk their lives facing them. The villagers knew well enough that venturing too far meant not returning at all.
Evan had always been fascinated by these stories, wondering what lay in those depths. But, more than that, the notion of cultivators who could face such Monsters had captured his imagination ever since he was a child. Could he ever become strong enough to explore those untold mysteries? Would he ever cultivate his Qi to a level where he could face such monstrosities? These questions floated through his mind each day as he practiced his basic physical training, taking him a step closer to the answers yet a mile away from the levels he aspired to reach.
In a world where physical and mystical strength were intertwined, Evan knew that his limitations were not just an obstacle but a chain binding him to the mundane. And each time he would look at the ancient obelisk in the village square, he would remember his dream of breaking that chain and venturing into the known—and unknown—realms of power and discovery. As days turned into weeks and weeks into months, Evan's curiosity and determination only grew stronger, drawing him closer to a destiny that was, unbeknownst to him, far grander than he could ever imagine.