The world outside the forest felt different.
Not in the way cities differ from suburbs or deserts from jungles—this was the kind of "different" that tickled your soul and whispered poetry in your bones. The trees gradually grew smaller, the air thinner, as Kyle followed Lian Mei through winding hills and narrow trails carved into the side of mist-kissed cliffs.
She walked gracefully ahead of him, seemingly unbothered by the thin stone paths that dipped and curved like snake trails. Meanwhile, Kyle carefully tested each step like he was playing a deadly game of "Don't Trip and Die."
He glanced down—again.
Yeah. Still a thousand-foot drop if he slipped. Perfect.
"So," he said as casually as a man walking a tightrope could, "you're telling me your sect is up here, in the clouds?"
Mei glanced back with a faint smile. "The Verdant Mist Sect sits on the highest point of the Jadecloud Hills. It is tradition to make the climb by foot. A cultivator must begin humbly, grounded before they seek the heavens."
Kyle sucked in a breath. "Right. Grounded. Humble. Definitely not just trying to kill me via scenic anxiety."
She chuckled softly but said nothing. Her robe billowed gently behind her like a breeze obeyed her every step.
Kyle looked down at his own white robes again. Despite their clean appearance, he still felt like a tourist in cosplay.
"So… how do people normally get into a sect around here?" he asked. "Is there an application? A resume? A vibe check?"
"You joke," she said with a slight grin, "but the last one is not far off."
"Wait, seriously?"
Mei nodded. "Some sects require tests of talent. Others prefer those with connections. But the Verdant Mist Sect favors those with strong spiritual presence and harmony with nature." She paused, glancing back. "Like someone who commands the respect of beasts."
Kyle winced. "Still don't know how I did that, by the way."
"You don't need to. Sometimes the Dao chooses its vessel without explanation."
"...Cool. Love that for me."
They continued in silence for a few more turns until the path widened into a clearing overlooking a valley completely wreathed in mist. In the distance, Kyle saw rooftops—elegant curved tiles that shimmered like jade. Towering spires reached above the fog, their tips catching the light of the setting sun like spears of gold.
"Whoa."
Mei didn't speak, only gestured with both hands. "Welcome to the Verdant Mist Sect."
Kyle had seen plenty of incredible scenes in cultivation novels, but this? This was like a wallpaper pack of every "peaceful immortal mountain" art piece mashed into one divine slideshow. Soft wind swept across the clearing, brushing his hair back like an invisible blessing.
The Sect felt alive.
Not in the sense of people bustling or buildings humming—but in the air itself. The stones beneath his feet hummed faintly. The grass shimmered. Even the bamboo forest nearby swayed to a rhythm that wasn't wind-driven.
"This place has qi for days," Kyle muttered.
"Yes," Mei said proudly. "Our founding ancestor chose this location after meditating here for nine days and nights. He said the flow of qi here dances with clarity."
Kyle blinked. "Okay, that's poetic. I approve."
Mei gave a small smile and then turned, stepping toward a narrow bridge carved from white jade. As they crossed, other disciples in green and white robes came into view. Most were meditating, training with swords, or tending to plants that glowed faintly under their care.
Heads turned as Kyle passed.
Some widened in curiosity, others narrowed in suspicion. A few looked toward Mei and whispered, clearly wondering who the unfamiliar man in white robes was.
"Do I stand out?" Kyle whispered.
"You're wearing robes that don't bear any sect insignia, walking beside me, and clearly not from our region."
"So that's a yes."
"Yes."
They passed under an archway marked with golden calligraphy. Kyle couldn't read it, but Mei translated softly, "He who listens to the mist shall hear the Dao."
"That's deep," Kyle said. "I feel like I should have brought a notebook."
Mei giggled again—and this time, it wasn't out of formality. "I don't think I've ever met anyone like you."
"Is that good?"
"I think so."
Just as Kyle was beginning to feel slightly less like an impostor in a kung fu film, a sharp voice called out from ahead.
"Lian Mei."
An older man approached, his presence like a sudden drop in atmospheric pressure. His beard was silver, his eyes hawk-like, and the ornate robes he wore fluttered with power. He walked with hands behind his back, every inch of him radiating the authority of someone who could throw a mountain with a flick.
Kyle straightened automatically. "Oh crap. That's your dad, isn't it?"
"No," Mei whispered. "Worse. That's Elder Huo."
"Wait—is that like Principal Huo? Or Vice Principal? Or…"
"Disciplinary Elder."
Kyle shut his mouth.
Elder Huo stopped in front of them, arms still folded. He glanced between Mei and Kyle, nostrils flaring faintly.
"You left the inner grounds."
"Yes, Elder," Mei said, bowing respectfully. "I sensed a fluctuation in the eastern woods and went to investigate."
"And returned… with this?"
Kyle gave a small wave. "Hey."
Huo raised a single brow. "He waves. Excellent. We are truly blessed."
Kyle muttered, "Okay, sarcasm exists here. Noted."
Elder Huo turned his full attention on him. "What is your name?"
"Kyle Bloomfield."
A pause.
"What sect are you from?"
"Uh… none."
"Your cultivation?"
Kyle opened his mouth—then closed it. "Beginner?"
Elder Huo's eye twitched. "What realm are you in?"
"Oh! That. Uh… human realm. The regular one?"
Huo's fingers twitched like they were considering a very educational slap. "Do you possess any cultivation technique?"
"No, but I've got like, spiritual charisma? The animals love me."
That actually made a few disciples nearby snort.
Elder Huo narrowed his eyes. "And what brings you to our sect?"
"I woke up in the forest," Kyle said honestly. "I don't know how I got here. I don't know where 'here' even is. I just woke up in the woods, surrounded by deer who wanted to throw me a coronation."
There was silence.
Then, surprisingly, Elder Huo sighed. "Another one."
Mei blinked. "Wait—another what?"
"Another Heaven-touched. Every few decades, the Verdant Mist Sect is blessed with an anomaly—someone dropped into the world with no history, no cultivation, and no memory, yet somehow brimming with spiritual potential."
Kyle blinked. "You're saying I'm not the first accidental isekai?"
Huo frowned. "...I do not know what that word means."
Mei leaned close and whispered, "Probably best not to explain."
Elder Huo studied Kyle for a long moment. "Very well. You will be brought before the Sect Master."
Kyle tried to look cool. "Cool. Chill. Do I bow or kneel or…?"
"You'll know when you see her."
Her?
They were led through more elegant halls and misty courtyards until finally they reached a grand chamber surrounded by bamboo walls and softly glowing crystals. The door opened without a sound, revealing a room that felt like it had existed for a thousand years without a speck of dust.
In the center sat a woman on a raised platform, robed in layers of shimmering green silk. Her hair flowed like liquid midnight, and her eyes glowed faintly as if containing galaxies.
She did not speak.
She merely opened her eyes—and the room trembled.
Kyle froze in place.
This… was the Sect Master?
She spoke without moving her lips. "You are the one they call Kyle."
He gulped. "I mean, yeah. That's me."
"You are Heaven-touched."
"So I've been told."
Her gaze pierced him. "And yet… you are whole. That is rare."
"I moisturize?"
A long silence.
Then she smiled.
"Humor… humility… and something else."
She stood—graceful, ethereal. "Tell me, child of another world. Will you walk the path of cultivation?"
Kyle hesitated. Then, remembering every novel, every trope, every protagonist who stood at this exact kind of crossroads, he nodded.
"I'll walk it. But I'm probably gonna trip a few times."
The Sect Master laughed softly.
"Then rise, Kyle of the Forest. From this day forth, you are a disciple of the Verdant Mist Sect."