Morning in Ashbourne had never felt quite so strange.
For the first time in his life, Zeke woke up to villagers whispering about him, not at him. The air was still fresh with dew, bread baking in the ovens, and the faint clang of Harrod's forge, but people were… staring.
Children ran behind him in a pack, chanting like little demons.
"Wolf-slayer! Wolf-slayer!"
Zeke waved a hand dismissively, trying to look annoyed. "Alright, alright, go chant at someone else. I'm trying to look mysterious here."
But secretly, he didn't mind. In fact, if anyone had looked close enough, they would have noticed the corner of his mouth twitching upward in pride.
Someone shoved a wrapped bundle into his hands. He blinked down at it. Wolf meat. A gift from the beast he'd killed yesterday.
"Oh, uh, thanks," Zeke said. "I'll… treasure it."
Later, he stood in front of his little hut, poking the meat over a fire he'd proudly built himself. The smell turned from savory to smoky, then to something acrid that made his eyes water. Smoke filled the hut, curling out the windows. Zeke coughed, fanning the air.
"It's… seasoned!" he croaked, eyes streaming.
Old Marta happened to pass by, leaning on her broom. She took one look inside his smoke-filled disaster, wrinkled her nose, and shook her head.
"Boy, you'll die of your own cooking before the heavens bother with you."
Zeke poked the blackened meat with a stick, grimacing. "…She's not wrong."
That evening, as the sun dipped low and painted the sky orange, Zeke lay in the grass outside his hut, arms behind his head. That was when the voice returned. Calm, cold, and utterly without feeling.
[Current realm: Middle Stage Body Tempering. Ten points accumulated. Fifty points required for the Late Stage.]
Zeke sat up, blinking. "Whoa. You again?"
[Quest categories: advancement, daily tasks, and locked skills.]
Zeke squinted at the stars. "So immortality is… basically a laundry list with heavenly branding?"
[Affirmative. Efficiency breeds progress.]
Zeke groaned. "Fantastic. The universe put me on chores duty."
[Quest: meditate for one hour. Reward: two points. Unlock basic qi sensing.]
Zeke blinked. "That's it? Just sit around? Finally, a quest I was born for."
He sat cross-legged, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath.
He lasted three minutes.
By the fourth, he was snoring so loudly that a group of kids threw pebbles at him. Zeke jerked awake, flailing. "I was meditating with vigor!" he protested, but the children ran off laughing.
He tried again. A few ants crawled up his leg, biting him. He yelped and scratched furiously. "Of all the—heavens, is this part of the test?"
Later, his legs went numb, and he collapsed backward with a groan. "My legs are conspiring with gravity."
Old Marta appeared again, broom in hand. She smacked him lightly across the head. "Stop pretending to nap like a monk!"
"I'm cultivating!" Zeke whined.
"You're cultivating laziness."
After what felt like an eternity, Zeke finally pushed through. He let his mind quiet, his breathing steady. For the first time, he felt something faint — like tiny sparks drifting in the air, brushing against his skin, sliding into his lungs. Threads of something unseen, flowing all around.
His eyes snapped open, wide with awe. "…That's qi."
[Quest completed. Reward: two points. Qi sensing unlocked.]
Zeke laughed softly, lying back in the grass. "I can feel it. I can actually feel it." For once, his sarcasm faded, replaced by quiet wonder.
But the System wasn't done.
[Daily tasks unlocked. Chop twenty logs. Reward: five points. Carry five buckets of water. Reward: five points. Run two miles. Reward: five points. Help three villagers. Reward: five points. Meditate thirty minutes. Reward: five points. Bonus for completing all: five additional points.]
Zeke sat up, jaw dropping. "That's just… chores!"
[Accurate.]
He threw his arms in the air. "I knew it! Immortality is just hard labor! My whole life has been training for this and I didn't even know!"
Still, he tried. He chopped logs until his palms blistered, ran until his legs ached, carried buckets until his shoulders burned. Villagers watched, bemused.
"Looks like Zeke's finally becoming responsible," someone said.
Kids mimicked him, carrying tiny buckets of water and sitting cross-legged in circles, "cultivating."
Zeke groaned. "This is humiliating. I'm a role model now."
The System, of course, remained unmoved.
[Complaint irrelevant. Continue quest.]
That afternoon, a merchant stopped in the square with a wagon full of trinkets. He spoke of rumors as he sold his goods.
"Qi beasts are moving south. Closer than they should be. The forests are stirring."
The villagers murmured uneasily. One elder muttered, "This hasn't happened since before my grandfather's time."
The merchant lowered his voice. "And there are sect recruiters in the next county. They say the heavens are looking for talents again."
Zeke, overhearing this, nearly dropped his bucket. Sect recruiters. Cultivators. Flying. His heart pounded.
His imagination ran wild — him in flowing robes, hair blowing dramatically, looking down on mortals while Marta shouted from below to fix his posture.
"Yes," he whispered, grinning. "That's my destiny."
That night, Zeke lay in the grass again, staring up at the endless stars. His body ached from chores, but qi faintly stirred within him now, like a candle flame in his chest.
He whispered softly, "If this is the path, I'll walk it. Even if it's built on buckets and splinters."
The System's voice cut in, sharp and cold:
[Main questline updated. Prepare for the sect trials. Objective: reach the Early Stage of the Qi Gathering Realm. Time limit: seven days. Failure will result in permanent questline lock.]
Zeke shot upright. "Seven days?! Seven days to reach Qi Gathering? I just barely stopped slapping wolves!"
Villagers nearby turned to look at him. "Zeke's talking to himself again," one said, chuckling.
Zeke flopped back into the grass, groaning. "At this rate, I'll be the first cultivator to die of stress before qi deviation."
Above him, the stars glittered, cold and endless.
And the countdown had begun.