Hope stood at the edge of a clearing, his senses sharpened as two figures emerged from the dense forest. A faint ripple of power brushed against his awareness, setting him on edge. His hand instinctively tightened on his sword, though his expression remained neutral. He didn’t need to see their auras to know that these were no ordinary travelers.

The first figure was an old man with a hunched posture, his silver hair catching the faint light filtering through the trees. Despite his seemingly frail appearance, his eyes gleamed with a sharpness that betrayed years of experience and a power that lay dormant, waiting.

A simple wooden staff rested in his hand, yet every step he took exuded a controlled authority, as though the forest itself bent to his presence. There was something almost serene about him, but Hope knew better than to mistake that serenity for weakness.

Beside him walked a young girl, no older than seventeen. Her cold blue eyes seemed to pierce through everything she looked at. Her long black hair cascaded down her back, and her robes, embroidered with golden threads, hinted at a level of wealth and status far beyond anything Hope had ever encountered. She moved with a natural grace, her expression composed yet tinged with disdain, as though the world itself had failed to live up to her expectations.

Hope’s muscles tensed. He could sense it in the air—the quiet danger these two carried. Whoever they were, they were far beyond the ordinary cultivators he had encountered in this region.

The faint ripple of their suppressed auras was like the stillness before a storm, a subtle warning to anyone foolish enough to challenge them.

The old man’s gaze landed on him first, and for a moment, there was surprise in his expression. But it quickly gave way to something else: amusement. “A boy?” he said, his voice calm but edged with scorn. “What business does someone like you have in a place like this?”

The girl’s gaze followed, her eyes narrowing slightly as they swept over Hope. Her lips curled into a faint, dismissive smile, one that spoke volumes without words.

“He’s barely more than a child” she said, her tone light but filled with condescension. “Nothing worth our attention, Old Master.”

Hope’s jaw tightened, though he kept his expression neutral. He didn’t respond, knowing that any reaction would only fuel their apparent disdain. Instead, he stood still, his silence a shield against their arrogance.

He had encountered people like them before—individuals who measured worth by strength alone. But never at this level. Their strength was palpable, even with their auras deliberately suppressed. They weren’t just powerful; they were predators, and he was nothing more than prey in their eyes.

The old man chuckled softly, tapping his staff against the ground. “Young Miss Alara you're right.” he said, addressing the girl, “This one’s out of his depth. Let’s not waste time here.”

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Alara nodded, her interest in Hope already fading. “Agreed. Let’s move on.” She gave Hope one final glance, her gaze cold and indifferent, as though he were an insect she had decided not to crush. Her disdain was casual, almost lazy, as if the very thought of him wasn’t worth her energy.

“Consider this your lucky day, boy” the old man said, his tone calm but carrying a subtle warning. “Not everyone is as merciful.”

With that, the pair continued on their way, their figures disappearing into the dense forest. Hope stayed where he was, his eyes fixed on their retreating forms.

He didn’t move, didn’t speak, not until he was certain they were gone. Even then, the tension in the air lingered, a reminder of the danger he had just escaped.

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Once they were out of sight, Hope exhaled slowly, his wariness giving way to a cold determination. He couldn’t shake the feeling that this encounter had been far from ordinary. The old man’s composure, the girl’s dismissive arrogance—they were dangerous, that much was clear. But it wasn’t their strength that gnawed at him.

It was the way they had looked at him, as though he were insignificant, as though he didn’t matter.

“Alara” he muttered under his breath, committing her name to memory.

He didn’t know who they were, but their presence alone had left an impression. He clenched his fists, the leather of his gloves creaking under the pressure.

Weak.

That’s what they thought of him. And perhaps they were right. Compared to them, he was weak. But he wouldn’t remain that way.

Shaking off the lingering tension, Hope adjusted the strap of his bag and turned south, deeper into the forest. He had no time to dwell on this encounter. His path was already set—he was heading toward the Ember Empire.

Whatever challenges lay ahead, he would face them. And the next time he crossed paths with someone like Alara, he would make sure they thought twice before looking down on him.

The southern part of the forest was treacherous, known for its wild beasts and unpredictable terrain. But it was also the quickest route to the empire’s borders, and Hope couldn’t afford any delays.

The Ember Empire was said to be a land of wealth and power, where opportunities and dangers walked hand in hand. For someone like him, it was the perfect place to grow stronger—or to die trying.

The trees grew denser as he made his way south, their thick canopies blocking out much of the sunlight.

Shadows danced across the forest floor, and the sounds of rustling leaves and distant animal calls filled the air. Hope’s eyes darted around, his senses heightened. This part of the forest was unfamiliar, and he knew better than to let his guard down.

As he walked, his thoughts drifted back to Alara and the old man. Their cold gazes, their dismissive words—it all gnawed at him.

He clenched his fists tighter, a spark of frustration flickering within him. He had seen that look before, from elders, from rival clans, from anyone who thought they were better than him. It was a look that said he didn’t matter.

But this time, it felt different. This time, it wasn’t just arrogance—it was power. Real, undeniable power. And he hated it.

“I’ll remember this” he murmured, his voice barely audible. “Next time, it’ll be different.”

The forest began to thin as he continued south, and in the distance, he could see the faint outline of the southern mountains.

Their fiery peaks glowed faintly against the horizon, a stark reminder of the Ember Empire’s namesake. The sight filled him with a mixture of anticipation and resolve.

He paused for a moment, his gaze fixed on the distant mountains.

“Let’s move.”