Ken City sat between two great mountains that sheltered it like natural guardians. Each morning the sun crept up from behind the peak to the east, lighting the green slopes before its beams reached the town's streets. With the arrival of light, the merchants came alive, pushing carts and setting up simple stalls along the main road. The cool morning air mixed with the scent of burning wood and fresh spices.
The town was full of tall wooden houses built from natural timber, giving off a warm, sturdy feel. Every knot and grain told the age of the building, and in the morning sun the old wood looked golden, reflecting a simple beauty that harmonized with the surrounding nature.
But in the southeast of the town, in a part often forgotten by Ken's grandeur, lay a rundown settlement. There, a rickety wooden house with a nearly collapsed roof served as home for a teenager. That morning, its battered wooden door creaked open and a boy stepped out with calm, measured steps. His face was streaked with dust and dirt, and his unkempt black hair hung so long it nearly brushed his calves.
"Feng, are you going to gather herbs in the forest again?" a middle-aged woman's voice called from the neighboring house. The woman, known as Aunt Kin, walked slowly toward the youth with a look full of concern.
"Yes, Aunt Kin," Feng replied in a low, relaxed voice. He was only nineteen, but his gaze looked older than his years, as if he carried many stories behind that calmness.
Aunt Kin came closer and patted his shoulder gently. "Good boy, you're so diligent. If only I had a child like you," she said half-jokingly, but pride clearly colored her tone.
Suddenly the rumble of a cart's wheels and the sound of several footsteps split the morning's silence. A handsome young man in fine clothes sat atop a proud horse, flanked by several burly guards. He halted not far from Feng's house.
"Oi, Feng! Don't dawdle, we're leaving!" the young man called in a loud, somewhat arrogant tone. He was Jun, the only son of the herb collector boss who employed Feng and the other villagers.
Aunt Kin immediately lowered her head and turned away, trying to avoid eye contact. Feng was used to it. In his heart he muttered, "The strong press down the weak—that's just the law of nature." Expressionless, he waved at Aunt Kin and hurried to catch up with the group.
"Aunt Kin, I'm off," Feng said. "Y-yes, be careful in the woods," Aunt Kin answered, her voice trembling as she didn't look back.
Feng joined the other workers behind the cart, while Jun and his guards stayed mounted up front. Among the workers, a girl with sharp eyes and a pretty face slipped up to Feng.
"Hey Feng, let's bet again. Who can collect the most herbs today?" Eva, Feng's companion since childhood, asked. Her smile was wide and full of spirit.
"Of course, Eva," Feng replied, showing a little light in his eyes. Eva was one of the few people who could make him smile.
"I bet three coins!" Eva said excitedly, nudging his arm. "You sure? Three coins is our week's wages," Feng reminded seriously. "Sure! This time I'll win!" Eva laughed, her eyes bright with confidence.
Feng simply nodded, a faint smile on his lips. The journey continued, leaving the town and heading toward the western mountain's foothills. After about thirty minutes' walk, they arrived at the edge of a dense forest flanked by two steep slopes. The air here was colder, and the sounds of nature grew louder.
The workers quickly took baskets and sacks from the cart. One of the muscular guards shouted, "Gather up!"
Jun dismounted and pulled out a painting on a piece of cloth. It displayed an unusual plant: four leaves arranged symmetrically on each side, yellow-golden in color with tips that glowed bright red like flames.
"Listen carefully!" Jun shouted. "Whoever finds this plant will get fifty coins!"
The crowd stirred instantly. Fifty coins was a huge sum—equal to five months of hard wages. Whispered excitement and discussions filled the air.
"Fifty coins…" Feng murmured inwardly. His eyes fixed on the picture, trying to memorize it. "With that money, I could finally buy a book about Practitioners…"
For eight years the dream of becoming a Practitioner had burned in Feng's chest. Practitioners—legendary humans who could control the world's energy, fly through the sky, even split mountains. Feng had once seen a Practitioner glide over Ken, a sight that stuck with him and ignited his resolve. "If I succeed, this miserable life will end," he told himself.
Feng was an orphan. He had been found as a baby by an old man at the riverbank and raised with care. That old man had named him "Feng," meaning wind, hoping one day he would be as free as the breeze. But the old man died three years ago, leaving Feng alone to face a harsh world. Loneliness was his daily companion, and only a few—like Eva—were his true friends.
After the announcement, the workers scattered into the forest. Feng lifted his basket and stepped into the trees while Eva waved. "Good luck, Feng!" "You too, Eva."
Three hours passed. Feng's basket was full of ordinary herbs, but he had yet to find so much as a trace of the four-leaf plant. Sweat dampened his brow and clothes. "This is hard," he muttered, wiping his sweat with his sleeve.
While searching through a thick patch of undergrowth, his eyes caught something unusual: a wide cave mouth hidden behind climbing vines at the base of a sheer cliff. Feng stopped, his brows knitting.
"A cave?" he whispered in surprise. "I've explored this forest for five years. There shouldn't be a cave here."
Curiosity overcame caution. He stepped toward the cave's entrance with slow, careful steps. Cool, damp air greeted him. Inside, darkness swallowed everything, with only a sliver of sunlight filtering in.
Just a few steps in, an unseen force suddenly hurled him backward. Feng was slammed against the rocky wall with brutal force. He struggled to breathe; sharp pain shot through his back, and a mouthful of blood speckled from his lips.
"Who's there?!" a sharp, cold voice echoed from the cave's darkness. The voice was clearly female but carried an authority and power that made the air around it feel heavy.
Feng opened his eyes with effort, vision blurred. From the cave, a woman slowly stepped out of the shadows. She wore red-and-black clothing with elegant lines separating the midriff and sleeves. Her hair was jet black, flowing like silk. Her face was very beautiful, but the most striking thing was her eyes—bright sky-blue and piercing, radiating a mysterious aura and immense power.