The group worked quietly in the oppressive air of the Obsidian Ridge caves, the flickering light from their torches casting long, distorted shadows on the walls. Each swing of Han Xun's pickaxe echoed in the cavern, followed by the dull clink of obsidian ore breaking free.
Wei Liang adjusted his grip on his sword as he kept watch, his senses on edge. The Rock Serpent's attack had only reinforced how dangerous this mission was. The silence between them wasn't strained, but it wasn't relaxed either. The caves seemed to pull unspoken thoughts from everyone's minds, lingering like ghosts in the air.
---
A Farmer's Instincts
Wei Liang found his thoughts wandering back to his past—not the life of the transmigrated soul now inhabiting this body, but the life of Wei Liang, the 18-year-old farmer. The memories weren't his, but they felt vivid and raw, tied to the muscles and scars of this body.
He remembered long days plowing fields, sweat pouring down his face as he struggled to till stubborn earth with hands that were now calloused and strong. His parents had been hardworking but poor, relying on him to help tend the farm after his older brother had left for the nearby sect in search of glory. That same brother had never returned, and Wei Liang had quietly resented the weight left behind.
"Still with us, Wei?" Han Xun's voice cut through his thoughts. The broad-shouldered disciple had paused in his mining, leaning casually on his spear. "You've been staring into the dark for a while now. Don't tell me you're afraid of bats."
Wei Liang shook his head, offering a faint smile. "Just thinking."
Han chuckled, resuming his work. "You're quieter than I expected for someone who handled that serpent like it owed you money."
---
A Survivor's Wit
Han Xun's easy demeanor wasn't what Wei Liang had expected when he'd first met the boy. His stocky build and quick wit made him seem carefree, but Wei Liang had noticed how Han's spearwork was grounded in discipline—and how he avoided talking about his past unless pressed.
"I'm not much for farming, you know," Han said, breaking the silence again. "My family ran a caravan. Woodcutters mostly. We'd travel between villages, trading timber and handmade tools."
Wei Liang looked over, surprised. "A merchant family?"
Han grinned. "Something like that. But when bandits attacked us a few years back, I realized trading wood wouldn't get me very far. My old man managed to fight them off, but he couldn't save the caravan. After that, I figured it was time to learn to protect myself."
His tone was light, but Wei Liang caught the edge of regret beneath the words.
"And now you're here," Wei Liang said.
Han's grin widened. "And now I'm here. Mining rocks. Exactly the life I pictured."
---
A Blade of Precision
Further down the cave, Zhang Fei stood with her back to them, methodically inspecting the surrounding walls for more ore. Her silence wasn't unusual—she rarely spoke unless she had something important to say—but Wei Liang noticed how she held herself. Every movement was sharp, efficient, like her body was always calculating the next step.
"Zhang, found anything?" Han called.
"Not yet," she replied, her voice steady. She turned back to them, her sharp eyes scanning their surroundings. "Stay focused. If more spirit beasts show up, we won't have the advantage of surprise again."
Han rolled his eyes but nodded. "Yes, ma'am."
Wei Liang watched Zhang for a moment, wondering about her story. From what little she had shared, she had grown up in a small fishing village far from the sect. Her family had sent her to the Jade Peak Sect after a wandering cultivator noticed her talent—a rare occurrence for someone from such a modest background.
Her Metal Root, sharp and unyielding, seemed to suit her perfectly. But Wei Liang had noticed how her expression sometimes hardened during sparring matches, her precision turning almost ruthless. It was as if she fought to prove something—not to others, but to herself.
---
The Weight of Talent
The sound of approaching footsteps interrupted their conversation. Lin Ziyan's entourage emerged from the shadows, their leader walking with his usual air of superiority. His blade was spotless, as if the battle with the Ironfang Wolf had never happened.
He glanced at Wei Liang's group, his smirk returning. "Still chipping at rocks like mortals, I see."
"We're doing the job we were sent to do," Zhang Fei said coolly.
Lin Ziyan chuckled. "Suit yourselves. Some of us are destined for more than grunt work."
As he walked away, Wei Liang couldn't help but wonder what had turned Lin Ziyan into the arrogant figure he was now. The System's appraisal had confirmed what everyone already knew—Lin Ziyan's high-grade Heaven Root gave him unmatched talent. But talent alone didn't explain his constant need to belittle others.
"He's not just arrogant," Zhang Fei said quietly, as if reading Wei Liang's thoughts. "He's afraid."
Wei Liang turned to her. "Afraid of what?"
"Of being ordinary," she said, her tone sharp. "People like him are raised to believe they're destined for greatness. Anything less would feel like failure."
---
As the group resumed their work, the tension in the air shifted. Wei Liang realized how much the past shaped each of them—Han's determination to protect, Zhang's drive for perfection, and Lin Ziyan's desperate need to stay ahead.
Even his own struggles, both as Wei Liang the farmer and as the transmigrated soul in his body, had left their marks. But where others saw weakness in his low-grade Earth Root, Wei Liang began to see resilience.
The System chimed softly in his mind.
[Appraisal Insight: Individual growth is shaped by both foundation and hardship. Host's progress accelerated by personal resolve and adaptation.]
Wei Liang smiled faintly. He wasn't the most talented disciple in the sect, but he was starting to believe that talent wasn't everything.
---
Their quiet reflections were shattered by a distant roar. The ground trembled slightly, and the faint glow of Qi from deeper within the cave grew brighter—and more unstable.
"Something's coming," Zhang Fei said, drawing her daggers.
Han Xun grabbed his spear, his grin fading. "Let me guess—something bigger than a snake?"
Wei Liang tightened his grip on his sword. Whatever it was, it was getting closer. And this time, they might not get out unscathed.
"Stay together," he said, his voice steady despite the unease in his chest. "We've got this."
In the flickering torchlight, the shadows seemed to grow deeper, and the cave fell into an uneasy silence.