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As Eshmund made his way down the rocky slope, the weight of the copper pouch in his bag felt oddly reassuring, though it did little to ease the knot in his stomach. His feet moved instinctively, but his mind was elsewhere, far from the ground beneath him.

“Cultivators… “he thought, his mind still swirling with possibilities.

The idea of entering their world was both tantalizing and terrifying. Muhsans effortless display of power, the way he had made cabbages levitate with just a gesture, lingered in Eshmunds mind. To have such control over the world, he felt a strange yearning to understand that power, but also a deep fear of how much it could change him.

They say the world of cultivators is bloody. Eshmund wasnt accustomed to violence. In his past life, he vaguely remembered a brawl, but it hadn’t been serious.

Sometimes, fighting was unavoidable, especially for someone with experience living on the streets. Still, he believed most people would prefer to avoid getting hurt. But this world was different. It was a place where the strong were right, and the weak were wrong.

Most authorities had no power against a powerful cultivator. The high-level ones were like walking nuclear weapons. He had heard stories of a cultivator at the Deity Transformation stage wiping an entire country off the map after its leader had offended his descendant. The real reason was unknown, but north of the Red Velvet Kingdom lay a massive, desolate desert, once home to the Lightning Dragon Country over 5,000 years ago.

Cultivators and mortals alike still roamed its ruins, hoping to find treasures. Even though the empire had cultivators among its ministers and nobles, the higher-level ones, at the Core Formation stage, were still quite rare numbered in the single digits. Those with the talent for cultivation usually preferred pursuing immortality rather than working as officials for the court.

Deity Transformation cultivators were nearly extinct in this world. They could not stay long in this realm because they ascended to higher planes, where the energy was sufficient to sustain them. The strongest cultivators here were at the Nascent Soul stage.

Two of them resided in the Red Velvet Kingdom: the mysterious Master Oning the Bull, leader of the Saludang Sect, and the Emperor himself.

Eshmund had heard that around 500 years ago, the Emperor sparred with Master Oning and lost. Rumors claimed the Emperor had spent less time cultivating due to his responsibilities governing the country. Since that spar, both had gone into seclusion, focusing solely on cultivating immortality.

It was said that a Nascent Cultivator’s lifespan ranged from 2,000 to 5,000 years, and both of them had lived for more than 2000 years. Their attempts to break through to the next stage, and thus extend their lifespan, were imminent.

It was funny the longer one lived, the more they wanted to preserve their life. But then again, who wouldn’t want to be powerful, live longer, and enjoy the fruits of their hard work?

Thinking of longevity, his thoughts drifted to his grandfather, Tasan Isagani, renowned in the village as a healer. Tasan had once mentioned that neither he nor Eshmund’s grandmother had the spiritual root required for cultivation. At most, they could live to 160, thanks to their health and knowledge. Even so, the thought saddened Eshmund.

His grandfather’s skill with healing herbs, tinctures, and potions was unmatched, at least by non-cultivator standards. But Eshmund could never hold his own in those discussions, always watching from the sidelines. As the grandson of the renowned doctor, he was meant to carry on the legacy. However, memorizing medical texts felt impossible to him.

He did possess superficial skills in blacksmithing, carpentry, potion making, and rearing ducks, chickens, and sheep – all learned in an attempt to find his place in the world. He could manage, but to make those his profession seemed far-fetched.

The only thing he excelled at was cultivating herbs. Perhaps he was better suited to becoming a botanist rather than a healer. Now, after his unexpected deal with Muhsan, everything felt different.

“Maybe this is my chance to find a new path”, he thought.

“I shouldve asked Muhsan if I even have the spiritual root to cultivate. At least then I wouldnt feel so anxious for the next meeting.”

He shook his head as if to clear his thoughts.

“Focus, Eshmund. One thing at a time”

Before he knew it, the house came into view. His thoughts shifted to the real problem at hand. He had slipped out that morning without telling his grandparents. They would worry when they realized he was gone.

His grandfather was kind but strict, and his grandmother fussed endlessly over his safety.

“What will they say when they learn I ventured alone to the treacherous slopes of Glassy Rock Mountain?”

He could endure their anger, but their worry would be unbearable. They had already lost their child, their own biological son. He had been told that their son was barely 15 when he lost his life to bandits.

Eshmund had been an abandoned boy they found while gathering herbs 11 years ago. Though not related by blood, they had given him everything, showering him with love and care. If it werent for his grandfather’s apprentice and the aunt next door, it wouldnt have even crossed his mind that he was adopted. He owed them too much to risk disappointing them like this.

The urgent need to secure the item he wanted had outweighed the risk. He couldnt ask for money from his grandparents since they wouldnt understand the significance of the item he needed to buy. Plus, that item could be the key to giving his grandparents a little peace of mind and hope for his future. With that thought in mind, he calmed down significantly.

He estimated that his trip had taken about three hours. Since he had left at dawn, they were undoubtedly awake by now. There was no point in trying to sneak back in and pretend he had just rolled out of bed.

As Eshmund approached the lawn of their small home, his thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps behind him. He spun around, his heart thudding in his chest. It was his grandmother, Leila.

“You went to the mountain alone again, didnt you?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

Her tone was more amused than stern.

“You dont think Id notice, do you?”

Eshmund froze, caught off guard by her sudden appearance. She stood there with her arms crossed and a knowing smile. Her silvery hair was tied in a loose bun, and a basket slung over her arm held freshly picked vegetables.

The warmth of her presence filled him with relief, though guilt still gnawed at him.

“I… I didnt think you’d notice,” he admitted sheepishly.

“I just needed to gather some herbs, Grandma. It had to be today. It could’nt wait.”

Her raised eyebrow made it clear she wasnt entirely convinced, but her expression softened.

“And what herbs are so urgent that they couldnt wait? Why didnt you ask your grandfather to go with you? Or at least your senior brothers?” she asked, her tone gentle but curious.

She was referring to the two senior apprentices who were training under his grandfather to become healers. Eshmund hesitated, unsure of how much to say. Should he tell her about the cabbages, the deal with Muhsan, or his thoughts about cultivation? He decided against it, unsure if shed understand.

“Its a little bit special” he mumbled.

“The seniors are busy. Its not like they get their days off all the time… Ill be fine, Grandma. I just wanted to get an early start, that’s all,” he said.

She studied him for a moment, as if seeing through his evasions. Then, with a soft chuckle, she placed a hand on his shoulder.

“You must be tired. Go wash up and have breakfast. You stink,” she teased.

Eshmund nodded quickly, grateful for her understanding. She didnt press him further, and the weight on his chest lifted slightly.

“Come on,” she said, walking toward the front door.

“Breakfast is ready. And dont think youre off the hook just because Im not scolding you. Youll help me with the garden later. Plus, you still have the old man to answer to.”

As they walked together, Eshmund felt some of his tension ease. For now, at least, he could breathe. The meeting with Muhsan and the uncertainties it represented would have to wait. Eshmund stepped into the cozy cottage, the scent of freshly brewed tea and warm bread wafting through the air. But even the inviting aroma couldnt fully ease the tension coiling in his stomach.

His grandfather, Tasan Isagani, sat at the wooden table, his sharp eyes already fixed on Eshmund. The lines on his face deepened as he regarded the boy with a mix of concern and frustration.

“Eshmund,” his grandfather began, his voice heavy with disapproval.

“You went up the mountain alone again, didn’t you?” Eshmund lowered his gaze, guilt weighing heavily on him.

“I told you before not to wander off without telling anyone!” Tasans voice rose slightly, the edge of his worry unmistakable.

“I had to go, Grandpa,” Eshmund said quietly. Reaching into his rattan bag, he pulled out a Red Veined Horse Cabbage and placed it on the table. Tasans eyes narrowed as he examined the cabbage.

“You found this on the mountain?” he asked, his tone softening as understanding dawned.

Eshmund nodded. Tasan sighed, rubbing his brow.

“You should’ve told me. I wouldn’t have refused to go with you for something like this,” he muttered.

Before Tasan could continue his scolding, Leila entered the room, placing a steaming cup of tea in front of him. She shot him a knowing glance, one that silenced his next words. Tasans focus shifted back to the cabbage. His stern expression softened as he turned it over in his hands.

“This is the finest specimen Ive ever seen since I was born,” he murmured, admiration in his voice.

“Look at the veins so vibrant. It smells incredible, too.” Eshmund felt his chest lighten at his grandfathers change in tone.

He hadnt meant to disappoint him, and it seemed Tasan understood the significance of his actions now. Tasan set the cabbage down and looked back at Eshmund.

“This could save someones life. Its valuable. Ill hold onto it for now, but well talk later. I don’t want you rushing off like that again.”

Eshmund nodded. He had expected this outcome and was relieved he had left behind some of the cabbages. Since his grandfather also knew about the circumstances surrounding the rare cabbage, Eshmund didnt need to explain much to him.

“Old man, thats enough scolding. Hes tired, and he needs to wash up before breakfast.”

Leila intervened again, her voice gentle but firm.

“Old man, thats enough scolding. Hes tired, and he needs to wash up before breakfast”

Tasan sighed, the last traces of frustration fading.

“Fine,” he muttered.

Eshmund turned to leave, grateful for his grandmothers intervention. As he stepped toward the door, Tasans voice called out once more.

“Eshmund.”

He stopped, turning back to face his grandfather.

“You and your two seniors are going to town with me today,” Tasan said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

“But I thought we were going to town in two days…?” A questioning look appeared on Eshmunds face.

“Change of plans,” Tasan said.

“Someones sick. A patient needs healing, and its quite urgent. Prepare yourself. Well leave shortly after breakfast.”

Eshmund nodded, his mind already racing. This wasn’t entirely unexpected; his grandfather’s plans often changed with the needs of his patients. Still, the timing aligned perfectly with his own plans for the item he desperately needed. Since he already had the silver, coming today wouldn’t make any difference. It just meant he was completing his mission earlier than the deadline.

The time passed quickly, and as Eshmund made his way to town with his grandfather and the two apprentices, his mind was a swirl of thoughts. His head was still filled with the strange deal he had made with Muhsan this morning.

The questions surrounding the world of cultivators gnawed at him, there was so much to understand, and it felt like he had barely scratched the surface. But what troubled him more than the cultivators was his own future. He had always been curious about the world, driven by a fascination with plants, animals, and nature itself.

He had spent countless hours studying the land and growing medicinal plants, learning everything he could about the natural world. Yet, despite all that knowledge, he didn’t feel like he belonged in the life of a healer.

His grandfather, Tasan Isagani, was a renowned healer, but Eshmund knew that wasn’t the path for him. Tasan had always been patient with him, never pushing him too hard to follow in his footsteps. After the loss of his own son, Tasan had learned that forcing someone to follow a predetermined path could lead to tragedy.

His son had been a gifted martial artist, and Tasan had tried to make him a healer like himself. He had forbidden his son from pursuing martial arts, hoping he would follow in his footsteps. But Tasan’s son, full of passion for the physical discipline, had defied him and pursued martial arts on his own while still learning his father’s skills. The decision had cost him his life when he was killed by bandit during their travel.

Tasan had never forgiven himself for denying his son the life he had longed for. If only he had spent more time honing his own martial arts skills, – a talent he naturally possessed – he might have been better equipped to protect himself. Tasan’s pain had shaped his approach to Eshmund.

The old man had never forced the boy into any one discipline. Eshmund’s interests had always been different from those of his apprentices, especially Kalen, the eldest and most skilled of the apprentices.

Kalen who had been learning from Tasan since he was five, is already 20 now and was on the verge of completing his training, having shown exceptional skill in the art of healing. He was steady, focused, and brilliant with herbs and potions.

Eshmund, on the other hand, had no particularly outstanding skill for healing, though he was good with growing and tending to plants, he never quite mastered their medicinal uses. Still, Tasan had allowed him the freedom to explore his interests, whether it was farming, blacksmithing, or even taking care of animals.

It was clear that Eshmund had an affinity for the natural world. He understood plants in a way that most people didn’t, especially medicinal plants. But the world around him was vast, and the more he learned, the more he realized he knew so little.

His memories of a life from another time before this reality made him yearn to understand things that most people in this world never even thought about.

He wondered why plants grew the way they did, how the climate influenced everything from crops to animals, and whether there was something more to these plants than their immediate use in healing.

Eshmund knew he had an unusual perspective on the world, a perspective shaped by his life in the 21st century. He could see connections and patterns that others didn’t. His curiosity was insatiable, but he wasn’t sure what to do with it.

——————————————————–

The servant at Magistrate Jagule’s house ushered them hurriedly through the halls to the patients room. The scent of blood was thick in the air, and Eshmunds stomach churned as they stepped inside.

Haoran, a martial artist serving as a guard for the magistrate, lay on the bed, his body battered and soaked in blood. His labored breathing and pale complexion painted a grim picture. The wounds were deep and precise, deliberate act of violence. Eshmunds gaze shifted to his grandfather, Tasan, who stepped forward with calm authority. His expression was sharp, focused, yet grim.

“We suspect he had been attacked by spies,” the magistrates aide whispered, his voice barely audible.

“This must remain a secret to avoid public panic. The magistrate’s orders.”

The words hit Eshmund like a stone.

Spies, Martial artists…

This world of hidden dangers felt so far removed from his quiet days among plants and herbs. Yet, despite the grim scene, a strange curiosity stirred within him.

What kind of a person could bring someone to such a state?

What herbs or remedies could save a life so precariously balanced on the edge?

Tasan , Kalen and Ran moved quickly, their practiced efficiency on full display. Kalen stabilized Haoran with acupressure and prepared salves, while Tasan inspected the wounds with meticulous care.

Eshmund stood to the side, observing. His hands twitched with the urge to help, yet he felt out of place this wasn’t his realm of expertise.

“Eshmund, fetch me the red-veined horse cabbage,” Tasan ordered, his voice firm but steady.

Eshmund snapped out of his thoughts, quickly retrieving the herb from the satchel he had brought. He handed it over, recognizing this as one of the plants he had risked the mountain trip to collect.

Tasan gave a small nod of approval before getting to work. Under his steady hands, the herb was prepared and applied to Haoran’s wounds. Its properties working to stem the bleeding and prevent infection.

As Eshmund stepped back, he caught Kalen’s watchful gaze.

“You’re not cut out for this” Kalen said bluntly, though his tone wasn’t unkind.

“You still got time to improve if you want to continue with this path in you life” his hands working skillfully while talking.

“But, you already have real talent with plants. I say, don’t waste it junior brother, focus on what you’re best at.” he continued.

Eshmund blinked, taken aback. The straightforward comment lingered in his mind, and for a moment, clarity began to form. Maybe he wasn’t meant to follow the path of a healer. Maybe his place wasn’t by the bedside but in the soil, where the roots of life took hold.

As Tasan finished applying the herbs to Haoran’s wounds, he looked over at Eshmund with a knowing glance.

“You’ve got a good head for plants, Eshmund. But you must realize that there is more to the world than what we can see.”

“There’s power in knowledge, and that knowledge doesn’t just come from what you’re familiar with.”