Time drifted by like a gentle breeze, leaving only faint whispers of its passing.

  In the quiet solitude of his cave, Devor carefully smoothed the folds of his light blue robe. This wasn’t just any garment—it was a badge of honor, a symbol of his place within the Azure Sky Sect. The intricate embroidery of leaves and dragons reflected the sect’s deep-rooted connection to nature and its storied legacy.

  His fingers lingered on the fabric. It had been over a year since he last wore it, and now, holding it once more, a swirl of emotions stirred within him.

  The punishment was finally over.

  What had started as a sentence—exile and isolation for a year—had gradually transformed into an unexpected gift. Beyond the struggles of the first month, the solitude had given him the space to grow. He had not only refined his skills as a cultivator but also found clarity and strength within himself.

  At seventeen, Devor now stood taller, his frame lean and composed. His black hair, neatly tied, cascaded down his back, and the boyish softness of his face had given way to the sharp features of a young man. His dark eyes, once filled with youthful curiosity, now held a depth that reflected the trials he had endured.

  Outside the cave, Aoyun stood impatiently, arms crossed, his expression one of thinly veiled annoyance.

  “How much longer are you going to take?” Aoyun snapped, tapping his foot for emphasis. “You’ve wasted enough time already!”

  Devor looked up, his gaze steady and calm. “Patience, Senior. This is an important day. I can’t step out looking anything less than my best.”

  Aoyun huffed in frustration but didn’t push further. Over the past year, their relationship had morphed into something resembling friendship—though Aoyun’s blunt nature and opportunistic streak often pushed Devor’s limits. Still, an unspoken bond had formed between them, forged in the shared isolation of Beastbound Hollow.

  Before leaving, Devor paused to take one last look at the spiritual garden he had painstakingly nurtured. The small patch of earth, tucked within the cave’s walls, pulsed with vibrant energy. Each of the 43 Earth-Grade Spiritual Plants radiated life, a testament to Devor’s growing expertise as a Spiritual Farmer.

  This garden wasn’t just a collection of plants—it was a thriving ecosystem. Through careful effort, Devor had used isolation formations to balance the spiritual energy flow, ensuring the plants flourished in perfect harmony.

  His gaze lingered on the lush greenery. “If only I could bring this to the sect,” he murmured, more to himself than to Aoyun. “With the energy from these plants, I might one day create the ideal environment for cultivating a Sky-Grade Seed. But it would take years… maybe even decades.”

  The thought stirred a mix of hope and regret within him. Selling the Sky-Grade Seed had been the right choice back then, but the dream of growing one himself still burned brightly.

  Devor turned to Aoyun. “Do you think it’s possible to move this garden to the sect?”

  Aoyun’s eyebrows shot up, his expression teetering between disbelief and amusement. “Move it? Are you serious? Look at the size of this garden, and then look at the narrow entrance of this cave. Even if we could somehow lift it, how would you get it out?”

  Devor tilted his head, his gaze fixed on the hole above the garden where sunlight streamed through. He pointed upward, a spark of determination in his eyes.

  Aoyun pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a long sigh. “Forget it. This is sect territory—heavily guarded. You really think they’ll let us tear up the mountain and stroll out with the soil and plants?”

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  Devor exhaled softly, recognizing the truth in Aoyun’s words. Yet, the thought of leaving behind the garden he had poured so much of himself into left a bitter taste in his mouth.

  “We’re just going to leave it here?” he asked quietly, his eyes lingering on the nearly mature plants. “In another month, they’ll be ready for harvest. How can we just abandon them?”

  Aoyun’s expression shifted, his usual businesslike demeanor taking over. He raised an eyebrow. “We’re not abandoning anything. I’ll arrange for someone from the sect to harvest them and sell the yield.” He paused, holding up four fingers. “But I’m taking 40% of the profits.”

  Devor narrowed his eyes. “Forty? That’s outrageous.”

  “It’s fair,” Aoyun replied firmly. “I’m the one handling everything, and you know I’ll get the best price.”

  Devor clenched his jaw, considering his options. Despite Aoyun’s opportunistic streak, he had a knack for making profitable deals.

  “Fine,” Devor said with a resigned sigh. “Forty percent it is.”

  Aoyun smirked, clearly satisfied. “Smart choice, Junior Brother.”

  Devor glanced back at the garden one last time. Leaving it behind was painful, but he knew this wasn’t the end. This place had been a sanctuary for growth, a foundation for everything he had learned. Yet, it was only a stepping stone. Greater challenges—and greater opportunities—lay ahead at the sect.

  The garden’s isolation had been both a blessing and a burden. It wasn’t easily accessible, and the distance from the sect had given him space to grow, away from prying eyes. Still, he couldn’t shake the feeling that Aoyun had leveraged the situation to his advantage. Even so, Devor had to acknowledge that Aoyun had been a crucial ally over the past year.

  Devor’s perspective was shifting. He realized now that surviving in the cultivation world wasn’t just about strength or talent. Building connections—especially with those who wielded influence or held hidden power—was just as important. Avoiding unnecessary conflict wasn’t a sign of weakness; it was a calculated strategy.

  And Aoyun, with his laid-back attitude and subtle influence among the disciples, was no ordinary cultivator. Devor could sense it. Having someone like Aoyun on his side could one day be the key to either his success or his survival.

  Devor’s fingers brushed the worn hilt of his sword. The blade’s edge was dulled from countless battles and the lack of proper care, a stark reminder of both his progress and the journey still ahead.

  With a deep breath, Devor stepped out of the cave. Aoyun, waiting at the entrance, straightened and motioned for him to follow as they navigated the winding paths of Beastbound Hollow.

  ??????

  Emerging from the Hollow, Devor stood beneath an open sky at the foot of an ancient, dormant volcano. He glanced back at the modest peak. Unlike the towering mountains typical of volcanoes, this one seemed almost hidden, its presence more rooted in the earth than looming above it.

  The cool wind brushed against his face, and he inhaled deeply, savoring the crisp air. For the first time in a year, his chest felt light, as though the very breeze had lifted the burdens he had carried.

  “I’ve never felt this refreshed,” he murmured, a rare smile breaking across his face.

  Beside him, Aoyun smirked. “You wouldn’t believe what you’ve been through. That old man... He was clever, I’ll give him that. Told me not to spill the details, but his plan worked perfectly.”

  Devor frowned, puzzled. “What old man? What are you talking about?”

  Aoyun’s grin grew sly, his eyes glinting with mischief. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

  Before Devor could ask more, Aoyun’s body began to lift off the ground, rising effortlessly into the air.

  “Wait!” Devor called out, a hint of panic in his voice. “You’re leaving? What about me?”

  Aoyun let out an exaggerated sigh, waving him off. “You’re a man now. Find your own way back to the sect.”

  Devor’s jaw dropped. “What about Yulin? Is she okay?”

  For the past three months, Yulin hadn’t visited. Devor had tried to convince himself she was just busy with her own path, but the worry gnawed at him. The thought that something might have happened to her had kept him awake more nights than he cared to admit.

  Aoyun started to respond but suddenly paused, his eyes shifting toward the sky. A faint whistling sound filled the air, growing louder with each passing second.

  Aoyun's lips curled into a smirk, satisfaction evident in his eyes. "Looks like your ride's here," he remarked casually. Then, with a sudden surge of power, he launched himself skyward, disappearing into the clouds in a flash of light.

  Devor blinked, stunned by the abruptness of Aoyun’s departure. Before he could fully process it, the whistling sound reached a crescendo. Turning toward the noise, he spotted a figure riding a flying sword, descending rapidly toward him.

  A powerful gust of wind swept through as the sword slowed to a halt, the rider dismounting with graceful ease.

  “Miss me?”

  Devor froze, his eyes widening as the figure stepped forward. It wasn’t just her presence that shocked him—it was the dark blue robe she wore. The embroidery shimmered in the sunlight, marking her unmistakably as an Inner Disciple of the Azure Sky Sect!