Five days later, Simon Harper emerged from the dense mountains behind Clearview Temple, reaching the far side of the range.
"I'm finally out," he said, glancing at his tattered clothes with a wry smile.
Even with his experience navigating forests, the thorns and branches had shredded his servant's tunic. The cool mountain air brushed against his skin, carrying the scent of pine and freedom.
Now far from Rivergate, he was beyond the Clayton family's reach. The path ahead would be easier.
"First, I need a town to change clothes."
Simon felt the weight of coins in his pocket, earned by James Ward over years of service. He scanned the horizon, spotting faint trails of smoke signaling human habitation, and chose a direction.
He'd planned his escape from the Claytons carefully, ensuring he had enough money to start anew.
In Willowbrook Town, Simon, now clad in a fresh linen shirt and trousers, stepped out of a tailor's shop. The bustling street hummed with vendors hawking wares and townsfolk bartering under the midday sun.
"This world's culture, aside from its martial arts, mirrors the ancient times of my past life," Simon observed, his gaze sweeping over the wooden stalls and chattering crowds.
He found an inn, its sign creaking in the breeze, and booked a room to settle in.
"Building an organization takes time," he thought, sitting on the inn's narrow bed. "My priority is boosting my strength."
With a mental command, he retrieved the Starlight Flow Art from his tunic, its pages worn but intact.
"Let's see how this world's martial arts differ from the real world's."
He opened the book, expecting enlightenment, but frowned as the text swam before his eyes.
"Damn it, I can't read most of this."
Simon's mouth twitched, frustration rising. The Martial Realm's script resembled the real world's, but subtle differences—altered strokes and unfamiliar characters—made it incomprehensible.
"I thought I could puzzle it out, but this is trickier than expected."
Guessing at the text risked misinterpretation, dangerous for a martial arts manual where errors could lead to catastrophic failure during cultivation.
"James Ward's memories don't include literacy," Simon realized. "I'll have to learn this world's writing from scratch."
He set the book aside, confident in his photographic memory. "Learning a language won't take long with my recall."
Simon headed downstairs to the inn's common room, where a waiter polished mugs behind a worn counter. "Who's the local teacher?" Simon asked.
"There's a few in Willowbrook," the waiter replied. "Master Edmund Hale lives closest, just down the street."
With Edmund's address in hand, Simon grabbed his coins and set out.
"This must be it," he said, standing before a modest house with a slanted roof. He knocked firmly.
"Knock, knock, knock!"
"Coming," a voice called. The door creaked open, revealing a middle-aged man in scholar's robes, his eyes sharp with curiosity.
"You are?" Edmund Hale asked, eyeing Simon.
Simon bowed slightly. "Master Edmund, I'm here to learn to read." He offered a handful of silver coins.
Edmund nodded, accepting the coins. "Come in, then."
Simon followed him into a sparsely furnished study, where scrolls and books lined wooden shelves.
"I'll start with common characters," Edmund said, arranging brush, ink, paper, and inkstone. "Pay attention."
As Edmund wrote, Simon's photographic memory captured every stroke, embedding the characters in his mind.
"Your memory is astonishing," Edmund said, his tone a mix of awe and envy. "If I didn't see your confusion at the start, I'd think you were mocking me."
Simon smiled. "Please continue, sir."
Edmund sighed, accelerating his pace, writing and explaining faster as he realized Simon's capability.
Two days later, Simon bowed deeply. "Thank you, Master Edmund. Farewell."
He left, the script of the Martial Realm now etched in his mind.
Edmund shook his head, muttering, "There's always a greater talent out there."
Back at the inn, Simon sat at a small table, the Starlight Flow Art open before him. This time, the text was clear, each character familiar.
"So this is how this world's martial arts function," he said after a long study, closing the book with a satisfied nod.
The Starlight Flow Art, capable of guiding one to the Innate Realm, revealed key differences between the Martial Realm and the real world.
"Both systems start the same—generating Inner Breath or Internal Energy," Simon mused. "But they describe the same force differently."
Insights from the Serpent Coil Technique flooded his mind, mingling with the Starlight Flow Art's principles.
"Though the essence is the same, their cultivation methods diverge, like two paths to the same peak."
The Starlight Flow Art's techniques complemented the Serpent Coil's, offering a faster route to Inner Breath.
"Combining these could accelerate my progress," Simon realized, excitement sparking in his eyes.
"Normally, the Serpent Coil would take years to reach Inner Breath. But with the Starlight Flow Art, I can get there faster."
In the Martial Realm, Inner Breath was called the Acquired Realm, a foundational step toward greater power.
Simon leaned back, the inn's wooden chair creaking. The path to strength was clearer now, but he needed to act swiftly to leverage his twenty-year simulation and build influence for more points.
Early morning, the sun's first rays pierced the mist over Willowbrook Town.
In a modest rented house, Simon Harper sat cross-legged on a simple wooden bed, his breathing steady as he meditated. The room was sparse, with only a small table and a single chair, the air carrying a faint scent of aged wood.
Since learning to read from Master Edmund Hale, Simon had left the inn for this private home, seeking solitude to focus on his cultivation.
"Ten days, and I'm starting to unravel the Starlight Flow Art's intricacies," he murmured, slowing his breath and opening his eyes.
"With this technique alongside the Serpent Coil, I'll soon reach the Acquired Inner Breath Realm."
Joy and astonishment mingled in his heart. The speed of his progress was staggering, almost unbelievable.
"Even in the Harper family, no one entered Inner Breath in just a month," he thought. "The fastest took nearly two years."
Simon took a deep breath, steadying his excitement. The superposition of two martial systems—the Starlight Flow Art from the Martial Realm and the Serpent Coil from the real world—was a revelation. Their differing philosophies amplified his progress beyond imagination.
"This combined power is too potent. I can't let anyone in the real world know of the Starlight Flow Art."
If exposed, powerful figures would surely seek to control him, drawn by the technique's potential.
"But in the simulation, death isn't permanent. I could reveal the real world's martial system here."
Releasing the Serpent Coil in the Martial Realm could spark a revolution, ensuring a flood of simulation points at settlement.
Simon stroked his chin, his gaze thoughtful. "It's too early to expose it, though."
"Perhaps I could share fragments of the Serpent Coil to build my organization?"
To form a following, he needed to offer incentives—ideology or profit. Simon chose profit, leveraging martial knowledge to draw allies.
The idea was distant. He hadn't yet reached the Acquired Inner Breath Realm, lacking the strength to establish anything.
"My priority is breaking through," he resolved. Only then could he build influence and earn more points.
Days passed in quiet discipline. Simon kept a low profile, rarely leaving his house, avoiding attention in Willowbrook Town.
He alternated between the Starlight Flow Art and the Serpent Coil, practicing diligently. His progress was swift, the combined techniques pushing his limits.
He felt the edge of a breakthrough, a tingling anticipation in his core.
In his room, Simon sat cross-legged, his breathing deep and rhythmic, aligned with the Starlight Flow Art's methods. The silence was broken only by his soft exhales.
His mind focused on his Dantian, guiding his energy as the technique prescribed. A faint warm current stirred in his lower abdomen, barely perceptible.
Suddenly, his breathing grew heavy, air rushing into his lungs.
Bang!
A subtle sound echoed within, and the warm current solidified, transforming into a tangible force.
"I've broken through," Simon said, a smile breaking across his face.
In one month, he'd gone from an ordinary stable boy to an Acquired Inner Breath martial artist—a feat even prodigies couldn't match.
"My aptitude is average, but these dual systems make my progress extraordinary," he marveled.
With a foundation in both worlds, Simon now had a foothold to stand on.
He rose, stretching his limbs, feeling the newfound strength coursing through him.
"I'm at the Minor Achievement stage of Acquired Inner Breath. Minor and Major Achievement sub-realms will follow quickly. Now, I can plan my organization."
"It must be discreet. I'm only at Acquired Inner Breath—too weak to draw attention."
Simon paced the room, the floorboards creaking underfoot. "I need money to fund it."
As James Ward, a Clayton servant, his inheritance was meager, nearly depleted after renting the house and buying essentials.
"Robbery it is, then," he decided, a cold glint in his eyes. It was a familiar path from his last simulation, where he'd targeted corrupt nobles.
He had a target in mind, uncovered during his discreet inquiries in Willowbrook Town.
"The Vance family, local tyrants, act with impunity. Their patriarch, Roland Vance, is notorious, having beaten over a dozen servants to death."
"They've ruined countless lives with their wealth and power."
Simon's heart hardened. If justice wouldn't touch them, he would.
His investigations revealed the Vance family had no martial artists, only hired guards with no formal training.
"Martial arts are rare. Small families like the Vances lack true legacies," he recalled from his last simulation, where he'd sought techniques but found only guarded secrets.
"With my current strength, the Vance estate will be easy to handle."
Though newly at Acquired Inner Breath, Simon's dual cultivation made him far stronger than his realm suggested. His time as an escort in the previous simulation had honed basic saber and sword skills, infused with a reckless killing intent.
He left the house, his steps purposeful, ready to reclaim his old trade and secure the funds for his ambitions.