Serra went out on a stroll.

He mingled with the crowd

However, none of them noticed him.

He was like a faint shadow.

Even though some people passed by him, they simply passed through him like a ghost.

They didn't even stop for a moment nor did they feel anything strange.

Serra smiled lightly.

Amusement clearly reflected in his eyes.

"This is a good city."

He spoke quietly.

There was maturity and wisdom in his eyes.

Serra was quite skilled in acting.

He could easily hide the wisdom within his eyes with immaturity.

Otherwise, he would have already been found out earlier.

"This city was here many years ago... Back then, it wasn't as peaceful as it was back then."

Serra remembered the mishap years ago when he suffered greatly and was forced to escape here.

He was severely injured and unable to muster up much of his own strength.

Thus, he decided to settle temporarily as a doctor.

After some years passed, he gained some reputation as a skilled practicioner.

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Afterwards, he met Ren and took him in as a disciple.

He worked as his apprentice and assistant and on off days where they did not do business, he taught him.

Those days were peaceful and blissful.

Calm and quiet days despite the chaos in that world.

It's a pity that the city was destroyed one day and they were forced to flee.

It seemed that Ren rebuild this city and chose it as his capital.

Furthermore, the land where his house once stood was the land where he currently stays.

"You're quite sentimental, my old disciple."

He murmured.

He gazed through the cities to find a shallow cottage standing.

And despite not looking through, he knew of who occupied that house.

Turning his eyes away, he gazed at the other lands.

They were occupied by people he spent quite some time with.

They were mere mortals.

With their fleeting lives, they soon met their ends.

Dian the mercenary captain who often went to the bar to have fun and fool around.

He was a frequent customer for him.

Meka the bar master.

His wine tasted quite sweet and up to par with his standards.

Zafra, an eccentric mage who often met up with him to deal with magical ingredients and the like.

He was often injured in his experiments and he often had to treat him.

"Those were enjoyable days. I truly enjoyed myself. It's a pity they're no longer here... But alas, as one who pursues the path of cultivation, I would eventually have to leave them behind."

He shook his head as he felt sorrow.

He had many friends, rivals, enemies and even people who loved him dearly...

As he continued his path, he was forced to eventually part ways with them.

Though his heart felt sorrow, he still pressed on.

"And now this is where I stand..."

He murmured softly.

He faintly remembered the names, faces and voices of the ones he once held dear.

As a cultivator who reached the apex, his memory was flawless.

Thus, he could easily recall them.

He then sighed.

He wished to bring them back.

But he could not for that goes against the natural order.

All of them lived their lives to the fullest without regret.

It would be an insult to bring them back for his own selfish wish.

And even if he did bring them back, could they stay alive for long?

"Sometimes... It is better to be an ant trapped within the ground than a dragon who would soar the heavens, looking down on all beneath... The fleeting life of a mortal filled with color... Is sometimes greater than a grand life of immortaily filled with bitterness. But I'm far luckier than most... For the one I love still lives... As well as two brothers who walk the same path as I."

He let out another sigh.