CHAPTER 4

This was strange. I wasn't the type to get involved in other people's business, especially after all that time alone in the forest. But now... maybe I was craving some human interaction. Or maybe I was just bored. Either way, I didn't like it.

In a world of cultivators, that was basically a death sentence— being a nosy person. However, it didn't take long for him to start;

"4 years ago, the grounds master for the Awoken Moon Sect came over to the city for an inspection. They let us peasants off that day in order to not offend the 'esteemed cultivator.'

We took it as a day off and visited the market together as a family—my mom, dad, and then us three siblings. We were just going through the market, spending time together..."

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On a sun-drenched morning, the village market came alive with activity. Laughter and smiles seemed to be in endless supply as the market's vibrant atmosphere welcomed the townsfolk. Hoffnung couldn't help but admire his mother's grace and elegance as she walked hand in hand with him, radiating warmth and kindness to everyone they passed.

Amid the bustling market, the cheerful chatter of vendors and shoppers combined with their laughter, creating a harmonious symphony of happiness. Marianna's grace was captivating, turning heads as they passed, but what truly caught everyone's attention was the unmistakable love in her eyes as she gazed at her family.

Henley, their father, was a pillar of protection, walking beside them with Hoffnung's two younger sisters in tow. The girls clung to his strong hands, finding comfort in his reassuring presence. As they explored the market's stalls, surveying the array of fruits, flowers, and handcrafted wares, their idyllic morning was suddenly marred by a sinister presence.

A man with wicked intentions had spotted Marianna, and the glint in his eyes showed an unwavering obsession had just been ignited— a malevolent determination within him. He moved with ill concealed stealth, his eyes fixed on her radiant beauty, casting a predatory gaze that sent shivers down Hoffnung's spine.

Hoffnung was the first to notice—a slight shift in the air, like a sharp chill running down the small of his back. The warmth of the sun seemed to fade in that instant, as if something had cast a shadow that had fallen over their sunlit scene. His heart began to pound, each beat echoing a higher sense of unease. The familiar buzzing of the market—its laughter, its joy—suddenly seemed distant. A cold weight settled in his chest, between his lungs and his throat, making his breath shallow. His instincts screamed to freeze- to stop everything and run, but he clenched his fists, refusing to obey the fear creeping up on him.. He looked around for whatever was causing this before noticing the poorly concealed man.

Hoffnung reached for his father's hand before his grip tightened, the warmth of his father’s palm a stark contrast to the cold dread creeping up his spine. Their eyes met in a single, shared moment—a silent understanding passing between them. It was a moment that felt stretched, as if the world around them paused for just a heartbeat. They didn’t need words. The agreement was clear: they would protect their family, no matter what.

Henley, with a voice that carried both strength and concern, instructed Hoffnung to stay close to his sisters. The urgency of the situation weighed heavily on his heart.

Stepping forward, Henley's protective instincts were at the forefront of his mind. The man's sinister intentions were evident to all who witnessed his approach, like the bright insignia of the Awoken Moon Sect on a full moon night. Henley was determined to shield his family from harm.

Marriana, sensing the impending danger, sought refuge behind a market stall, away from her husband and son. But the man showed no sign of relenting. With bold determination, he reached for Marianna's arm, his grip forceful and invasive. Marianna's expression shifted from radiant warmth to shock and discomfort, and her radiant smile was replaced by a look of distress, cutting Hoffnung like a blade.

"Release her!" Hoffnung's voice echoed through the market, an unexpected wellspring of courage surging within him.

Henley’s movements dripped with intention, his every step measured as if the weight of the situation pressed down on him. His face remained stoic, but beneath it, a fierce determination burned in his chest. The need to protect his family surged through him like a storm—fast, raw, unstoppable. His muscles tensed, ready to act, every instinct screaming for action as he advanced toward the threat.

The tension in the market remained palpable, its witnesses frozen in place, their eyes locked onto the unfolding drama. The sinister man's twisted grin grew ever more wicked as he tightened his grip on Marianna, savoring her distress.

Henley moved quickly, his body =, driven by pure instinct, the need to protect his family pushing him forward with a force that felt almost primal. Each step was a rush of adrenaline and something else, his body moving before his mind could fully catch up. Every fiber of his being was focused on one thing: getting between his family and the looming threat. A formidable collision ensued, echoing through the air as Henley was sent tumbling back into a display of fruits and vegetables, his protective instincts warring with the brute strength of their assailant.

It was undeniable now—this man was a cultivator, and his presence had shattered the peace of the once vibrant market. A silence, like a soundless sonnata of clashing bells, descended upon the villagers as they dared not offend the powerful cultivator in their midst.

Hoffnung, his young heart aflame with determination, seized a nearby basket, swinging it at their assailant with unwavering resolve. But their resistance called forth additional foes who emerged from the shadows to join in the brutal assault.

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Despite their valiant efforts, Henley and Hoffnung were battered and outnumbered. They fought ferociously, yet their attackers showed no mercy. The odds stacked heavily against them, their assailants striking with ruthless brutality.

As the ordeal reached its brutal climax, Henley and Hoffnung lay on the ground, their bodies battered and broken, the cultivator's allies showing no restraint.

The most senior of their attackers, cruel in both intent and demeanor, considered extending the punishment to Hoffnung's sisters. The rage that surged within Hoffnung only intensified their ruthless assault.

Witnessing his son's defiance, Henley could only plead, his tears and snot mingling with the dirt and blood that stained his face. The cruel cultivator, in turn, savored their suffering, reveling in the agonizing symphony he had orchestrated.

However, a man in light grey robes arrived with a small wooden box containing an Imperial Dragon Fruit. Gao Lan, a powerful cultivator and the Head of Grounds at the Awoken Moon Sect's outer court, ordered that Henley and Hoffnung be restrained.

They were shackled to a beating post, a brutal and public form of punishment, their backs turned to one another on a raised circular platform. The whole community would watch, an unwilling audience to their pain.

Hoffnung's sisters, trembling and crying, were led away by a neighbor named Uncle Jary, who sought to shield them from the harrowing spectacle. Henley pleaded for mercy, but his pleas fell on deaf ears.

Lashes on lashes rained down upon Henley, while his son could only bear witness, shackled and bound. Hoffnung’s throat burned, a suffocating feeling that refused to choke him, as he fought back his tears, every lash on his father’s back an agony of its own. His father’s teachings echoed in his mind, but nothing could quell the storm of helplessness and rage that threatened to consume him.

Gao Lan, the cultivator, declared that for every 100 lashes Henley endured, Hoffnung would be spared one. Hoffnung endured fifty lashes, but his father, exhausted and broken, collapsed.

The village healer, Kim, cared for Henley's injuries, but the weight of the punishment had taken its toll. As the days passed, it became evident that Henley's slightly hunched back would serve as a lasting reminder of their ordeal.

"That's the story," Hoffnung concluded with a heavy heart, the memories of that fateful day forever etched in his mind.

"You don't want to hear my story?" Khan inquired, to which Hoffnung replied in the negative.

Hoffnung, with a smirk, observed, "Lemme guess… some sort of tragedy and now you're here for vengeance or something."

*Hmph*, "No".

Hoffnung's perceptive response underscored the fact that his story, while sad, was not an anomaly. With resolve burning in his heart, he remained determined to carve a path that would set his tale apart.

Khan grudgingly conceded, "Fine, I'll leave you alone. Let me know when it's time for me to wake up. I don't want to oversleep when I should be helping my benefactors."

Hoffnung nodded and returned to his spear training. The next morning, Hoffnung shook Khan awake, the exhaustion of the previous day's events still weighing heavy on their eyes. The Awoken Moon Sect's entrance test was just two days away.

"Get up, 'Aunt Clattern,''' Hoffnung urged Khan with a playful nickname. Khan begrudgingly rose, groaning with fatigue.

"Morning, Hoffnung," Khan muttered, "What do you need me to do around here?"

Hoffnung outlined their tasks for the early morning, involving chores with the chicken coop and tending to Betsy, their elderly ox. As the sun rose, they worked diligently to complete their tasks before Henley and the girls awoke.

Khan appreciated the work ethic and comradery that had already formed between them. "It's about 3 AM now," Hoffnung noted, "and I'll be leaving around 5. Before that, help me with the chores. We'll be finished before Pa and the girls wake up."

Khan agreed and they began the morning tasks together. Within 45 minutes, their work was complete. Sweating and tired, they shared a brief moment of respite, sipping the meager water they had, and taking a seat on the sturdy bench beside the house. For a place like this, the bench was a testament to Henley's friendships with skilled craftsmen in town.

With the morning sun on the horizon, Khan turned to Hoffnung with a request, "Hey, Hoffnung, do you mind teaching me that spear technique you were practicing the other night? I'd like to at least prepare for the sect’s entrance test."

Hoffnung considered Khan's request but eventually shook his head. "Two days of practice won't be enough to secure a spot in the sect. And you look fit, like you've seen battles. Don't you have your own practice sets to

Hoffnung gazed deeply into his eyes, unwavering, and discerned the dogged resolve that burned within them. Those eyes told a story of their own.

"Sure, but don't expect it to help you much," I replied.

"Thanks," he said.

I snorted and got up to teach him the technique. About an hour later, Henley also woke up, Hoffnung had left for his guard post about ten minutes before.

"Morning, boyo. Has Hoff gone off to the guard station yet?" Henley asked.

"Yes, sir. He left just before you woke up."

"Mmm, alright. I'm going to make breakfast for the kid and us, then we can head off to the city farming fields."

It took Henley about 30 minutes to get everything ready before he woke up the girls for breakfast. Khan and the girls sat around the fireplace and ate their food. Afterward, Henley and I walked the girls to a relatively large and well-kept hut where we found an old lady, probably 100 to 120 years old. She had wrinkles upon wrinkles, and her neck area looked like a tortoise's neck. Most people would have just nodded or exchanged greetings with her until they looked into her eyes. Those eyes held the look of experience earned through decades of work in her region of expertise. Her eyes golwed with a sharp wisdom, making it feel like you should think twice before underestimating her. She was called Healer Kim.

After bidding farewell to our companions, Henley and I embarked on a serene escape to a farm nestled just beyond the bustling city walls. The soft, golden glow of the sun's ascent at around 7 AM illuminated our rustic haven. These two days unfurled as a refreshing interlude, where the rhythm of farm life offered us a respite from the urgency of our journey.

The evening preceding the sect entrance exam was fraught with a unique blend of excitement and trepidation. As the sun dipped below the horizon, whispers of anticipation danced in the air. Disciples huddled in contemplation, recognizing that the forthcoming sect evaluation wasn't merely a test of martial prowess. It was a profound journey, a quest to unveil their inner strengths and weaknesses.

In the waning light of day, the collective spirit of aspirants brimmed with determination. With every passing moment, the sect evaluation drew nearer. It was more than a mere examination; it was a portal to a realm of profound self-discovery. As twilight cast long shadows, disciples steeled themselves for the challenges and revelations that awaited.

With hearts resolute and unwavering, disciples embraced the impending sect entrance exam. Their journey wasn't solely about martial prowess but about the indefatigable pursuit of excellence. As the sun set on the eve of the evaluation, they ventured forward, driven by their aspirations and the unshakable belief that their destinies would soon intertwine with the mysteries of the martial world.