Eight years had passed since Simon Harper entered the simulated Martial Realm, and now, deep in the mountains, his solitary life thrived in quiet resilience.
A sturdy wooden cabin stood nestled in a forest clearing, its weathered timbers blending with the surrounding pines. Around it, a patchwork of medicinal herbs and vegetables grew in neat rows, their vibrant greens a stark contrast to the wild undergrowth. A rough-hewn fence encircled the cabin and its garden, warding off curious deer and prowling wolves that roamed the dense wilderness.
Simon stood before the cabin, his body moving fluidly through the forms of the Harper family's Serpent Coil Technique.
Each motion was deliberate, his muscles coiling and releasing like a serpent poised to strike. The air was crisp, scented with pine and damp earth, and the distant calls of birds echoed through the trees.
Eight years ago, he had stumbled upon this secluded spot, far from the chaos of the war-torn lowlands. Here, he had built his refuge, planting crops and trading furs and herbs with nearby villages for salt, tools, and other necessities.
"Eight years," Simon murmured, pausing to gaze at the serene landscape. His breath misted in the cool morning air. "How many lifetimes contain such a span?"
The solitude had been both a challenge and a gift. In his previous life, he'd been a man of routine, tethered to a mundane job. Now, in this simulated world, he had carved out a space to hone his skills, free from the threats of the Harper family's dungeon in the real world. The thought brought a wry smile.
"At least time here passes in an instant back there."
As he resumed the Serpent Coil Technique, his body suddenly trembled. A warm current surged from his lower abdomen—his Dantian—flowing like a gentle stream through his limbs. His breath caught, and a thrill of triumph coursed through him.
"Inner Breath Realm, achieved!"
The sensation was exhilarating. The Inner Breath Realm marked the first true step into martial mastery in the real world's system, and here, in the Martial Realm, it held similar weight. The warm current, the Inner Breath, pulsed within him, a sign of his progress. Simon closed his eyes, savoring the energy as it coursed through his veins, invigorating his weary body.
He took a deep breath, focusing his mind, and channeled the Inner Breath.
It erupted within him, spreading to every muscle and sinew. His body felt lighter, stronger, as if a hidden well of power had been tapped. His muscles swelled subtly, and a surge of strength made his fists clench instinctively. For a moment, he felt invincible.
After several minutes, he dispersed the Inner Breath, exhaling slowly. "It's only the Initial Inner Breath stage," he said, shaking his head. "The Inner Breath is still shallow, good for short bursts but not sustained effort."
Even so, he was leagues stronger than when he'd arrived as Lucas Reed, a frail refugee.
The Inner Breath Realm had three stages—Initial, Minor, and Major Achievement—and Simon was just beginning. Still, the breakthrough filled him with confidence. Each step forward brought him closer to escaping the Harper family's clutches in reality.
A sudden cough interrupted his thoughts, and his face paled. He pressed a hand to his chest, wincing. "The Blood Surge Technique," he muttered.
Years of using the technique to fend off beasts and train his body had taken a toll. It granted bursts of strength—thirty to forty percent beyond normal—but at a cost. His body's foundation was frayed, leaving him with a persistent illness that flared in moments of exertion.
"Now that I'm in the Inner Breath Realm, I can use it more safely," he reasoned, straightening. The technique, a gift from Clara Harper, was nearing Major Achievement.
At that level, he could unleash its power without damaging his foundation, a crucial step for his survival.
Simon's gaze drifted to the misty peaks beyond his cabin. He'd lingered here long enough. The mountains had been a sanctuary, but curiosity about the Martial Realm's wider world burned within him. He wanted to compare its martial arts to those of the real world, to uncover their differences and refine his skills.
Having reached the Inner Breath Realm, his initial goal was complete. Now, he could explore.
"My strength still isn't enough to escape the Harper dungeon," he thought, recalling his grim reality. The family aimed to use him as bait to lure his father, Thomas Harper. Simon couldn't afford to wait passively for death. "I need to master the Blood Surge Technique and grow stronger."
Coughing again, he turned to the cabin, gathering his belongings—a worn cloak, a small pack of dried herbs, and the dagger he'd taken from the bully years ago. With a final glance at the home he'd built, he set off, leaving the mountain behind.
A year later, Simon sat in the Four Winds Escort Agency, methodically wiping his long saber. Its blade gleamed under the lantern light, reflecting his steady hands.
After leaving the mountains, he'd joined the agency, his martial skills earning him the role of escort leader within months. The work was grueling—guarding caravans through bandit-ridden routes—but it had taught him much about the Martial Realm.
This world's martial system divided practitioners into Acquired, Innate, Grandmaster, Great Grandmaster, and, legend held, Human Immortals who transcended mortality. Simon, an Acquired martial artist, was still far from Minor or Major Achievement.
"The real world's system is different, but there are parallels," he mused, comparing the two. The Harper family's techniques, like the Serpent Coil, were robust, but he craved deeper knowledge.
"I've met other martial artists, but their teachings were crude, barely matching the Harper family's arts," he thought, frustrated. The escorts shared only basic techniques, useless for his goals.
Resolving to seek more, Simon resigned from the agency and began wandering the Martial Realm's vast lands. Its ancient, sprawling landscapes reminded him of his past life's history, yet its scale dwarfed anything he'd known.
Villages bustled with merchants, while warlords clashed in distant regions. Simon's travels sparked a legend: a lone wanderer who infiltrated corrupt nobles' estates, seeking martial texts, slaying those who oppressed the poor, and distributing their wealth to the needy.
In a smoky tavern, Simon sipped wine, shaking his head. "These families have wealth but no true martial heritage. Their techniques are rudimentary." Powerful martial clans, guarded by experts, were beyond his reach. Still, the crude skills he'd gathered had bolstered his foundation, if only slightly.
"Five months remain in this simulation," he calculated. "I'll keep searching for superior martial arts. The Blood Surge Technique is close to Major Achievement, but my body…" He coughed, feeling the strain of his damaged form. It didn't matter—this was a simulated body, not his real one.
Two months later, Simon stood in a small town, staring at the sky. A colossal hand, formed of pure energy, descended, its pressure suffocating. He'd heard of a duel between martial masters and came to witness it, hoping to glean insights.
"This power…" he whispered, awestruck.
The gap between him and these masters was vast. "If only I'd reached Major Achievement with the Blood Surge Technique. Next simulation, then."
The hand crushed the town, and darkness swallowed him.
"This simulation has ended. Starting settlement…"