The morning sun filtered through the modest windows of the two-story house, casting warm light across the wooden floors. Draco, with his long black hair still tousled from sleep, descended the creaky stairs, the scent of breakfast guiding him to the kitchen. His mother, Darcia, stood by the stove, humming a soft tune as she prepared their meal.

"Good morning, Mom," Draco greeted, his voice still thick with sleep.

"Good morning, dear," Darcia replied, turning to smile at him. She had the same delicate features as Draco, with a warmth in her eyes that always put him at ease. "Did you sleep well?"

Draco shrugged, taking a seat at the small wooden table. "Well enough, I suppose."

The kitchen was cozy, filled with the comforting clutter of everyday life. Pots and pans hung from hooks, and shelves were lined with jars of spices and dried herbs. A small window overlooked their modest garden, where the first hints of spring were beginning to show. The house, though modest, had an inviting charm. The wooden floors creaked with familiarity, and the walls were adorned with simple but meaningful decorations—family portraits, handmade crafts, and mementos from Draco’s childhood.

Darcia placed a plate of eggs and toast in front of him, the smell filling the room. She sat down across from him, a thoughtful expression on her face.

"Is something bothering you, Mom?" Draco asked, noticing the slight furrow in her brow.

Darcia sighed, her eyes momentarily distant. "Just thinking about your father. It's been a while since we've heard from him."

Draco nodded, feeling a pang of worry. His father, Brandon, was a soldier in the Crimson Kingdom's army, currently away fighting in the war against the neighboring kingdom to the east. Although Brandon was a commoner, he had earned a respected position in the army, his skills and abilities setting him apart.

"He's strong, Mom. He'll be alright," Draco said, trying to reassure her—and himself.

"I know," Darcia replied, her smile returning, though her eyes still held a hint of concern. "Speaking of your father, he left something for you."

Draco's curiosity piqued as Darcia handed him a wrapped package. "Happy birthday, Draco."

His eyes widened in surprise. "Thanks, Mom!" He quickly unwrapped the gift, revealing a book titled "Dragon Reinforcement." He turned it over in his hands, admiring the intricate cover, the weight of the book feeling significant in his hands.

"Your father wanted you to have this," Darcia explained. "He said it would be important for your future."

Draco nodded, setting the book aside for the moment. "I'll look at it later. Let's finish breakfast first."

As they ate, their conversation drifted to more mundane topics—the weather, the latest village gossip, and the upcoming festival. Green River was named for the emerald-hued river that flowed through it, It was a small but vibrant community, part of the Crimson Kingdom, which was currently embroiled in a war with a neighboring kingdom to the east.

"The river looks so beautiful today," Darcia remarked, gazing out the window.

"Yeah, it's amazing how it always seems to glow," Draco said, taking a bite of his toast.

Darcia nodded, then her eyes lit up with excitement. "I heard the festival will have a grand fireworks display this year."

"Really? That sounds amazing," Draco replied, his thoughts briefly shifting from the book to the upcoming celebration.

"Thanks for breakfast, Mom. I'll head out now."

Darcia smiled and hugged him tightly. "Be safe, Draco. And remember, whatever path you choose, your father and I are proud of you."

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Draco nodded, feeling a mix of emotions as he left the house, the book clutched under his arm. He walked through the village, the familiar sights and sounds grounding him as he made his way to his favorite spot.

The village of Green River was a peaceful place, nestled in a valley surrounded by dense forests. The river, from which the village took its name, wound its way through the landscape, its emerald waters glistening in the sunlight. The unique color came from the minerals in the riverbed, giving the village its distinctive charm.

Draco walked through the village, greeting familiar faces along the way. Children played in the streets, their laughter echoing through the air. Villagers went about their daily routines, tending to their gardens, repairing their homes, and preparing for the upcoming festival. It was a scene of simple, contented life, yet Draco's mind was a whirlwind of thoughts about his future.

His father, Brandon, had always been a figure of strength and mystery. As a soldier in the Crimson Kingdom's army, he was often away, fighting in distant lands. But it was more than just his absence that intrigued Draco. Brandon's status in the army was notable, yet Draco had always sensed there was more to his father's story. He had heard whispers of his father's abilities, feats that seemed almost superhuman. His mother, Darcia, spoke of him with a mix of pride and caution, never fully explaining the extent of his powers.

Reaching his favorite spot—a quiet clearing by the river—Draco sat down on a large rock and took out the book his father had left him. He opened it carefully, the pages crackling softly. The first chapter was an introduction to Qi, an energy that could be harnessed to strengthen the body and mind. Draco read intently, absorbing every word.

The book explained that Qi was a fundamental energy that existed in all things. With the right techniques, one could cultivate and harness this energy to enhance their physical and mental abilities. The journey of mastering Qi began with becoming a Practitioner. Practitioners were individuals who had mastered martial arts techniques but had not yet tapped into the power of Qi. This was the most common level, achievable by dedication and training alone.

However, the true path of cultivation started with the Third-Rate Masters. These individuals could channel Qi into their limbs and bones, greatly enhancing their physical strength. A Third-Rate Master could be as strong as twenty men, capable of punching through walls and leaping great distances. As Draco read on, he realized that his father's abilities matched these descriptions. The stories of his father’s feats, once shrouded in mystery, began to make sense.

The book continued, describing the Second-Rate Masters. These masters took Qi cultivation a step further, reinforcing their internal organs with Qi, excluding the brain. Their strength was unmatched by fifty men, and they could destroy entire walls and leap even higher, up to five meters. The power they wielded was awe-inspiring, a testament to their dedication and mastery of Qi.

Finally, the book detailed the pinnacle of mastery: the First-Rate Masters. These elite individuals had refined their entire bodies with Qi, creating internal channels through which Qi could circulate. Unlike the lower ranks, First-Rate Masters could store Qi within their bodies, using it at will during combat. Their strength was legendary, comparable to a hundred men. They could obliterate small houses with a single blow and leap to incredible heights.

As Draco absorbed this information, a sense of awe and curiosity welled up inside him. His father's abilities began to make more sense, the pieces of the puzzle falling into place. Yet, it was one thing to read about these powers and quite another to imagine possessing them. The book also contained a cultivation technique called "Dragon Reinforcement," which his father had recommended.

His heart raced with excitement and awe. The book seemed to hold the key to understanding not just his father’s strength, but also a potential path for his own future. As he continued reading, he found a note tucked between the pages.

"Draco,

By the time you read this, you will be sixteen and standing at the threshold of adulthood. This book is more than just a collection of techniques; it is a guide to a powerful path that can shape your future. The journey of cultivation is not easy, and it took me many years of dedication and perseverance to reach my current level. You may face challenges and doubts, but remember that every great journey begins with a single step.

You've probably heard stories about my feats and the incredible things I can do. The truth is, I'm only a Third-Rate Master. Compared to the true masters of our world, I'm just a small fish in a vast ocean. Even with years of practice, I've only managed to achieve this rank. Cultivation is difficult, and progress can be slow and frustrating. Do not be discouraged if you find it hard. It took me over fifteen years to reach this level. Patience and persistence are as important as strength and skill.

This path can bring you great power, but it can also bring danger. Keep this knowledge close and share it only with those you trust implicitly. Your mother and I have always believed in you, and we know you will make the right choices.

With love and hope, Father"

Draco closed the book, his mind buzzing with the possibilities. He understood the gravity of his father's words and the importance of the gift. This was more than just a book; it was a guide to his future.

He sat by the river for a long time, contemplating his next steps. The path of cultivation was a difficult one, but it was also a path to great strength and, perhaps, a way to protect those he loved. Draco knew that whatever he decided, his