The cave fell quiet after Charlie finished speaking.
The small fire crackled softly, its weak flames casting long, wavering shadows across the uneven stone walls. The warmth barely chased away the chill clinging to the air, but exhaustion weighed heavier than the cold. My body finally began to give in, the tension in my muscles loosening as the night pressed down on me.
Charlie watched me for a moment before speaking gently.
"Get some rest, Young Master," he said softly. "Tomorrow, we'll try to find a way out of this forest."
I nodded weakly, my body already giving in. Every muscle ached, my thoughts felt heavy and distant, and the weight of everything that had happened pressed down on me like a suffocating fog. I didn't have the strength left to question him—let alone argue..
I lay down against the cold stone floor, turning slightly on my side. The ancient book rested close to my chest, its presence strangely reassuring—like a quiet heartbeat reminding me I was still alive.
Before I could form another thought—before the ache in my chest could surface again—sleep claimed me.
It pulled me under swiftly and without mercy, dragging me into darkness where, for a brief moment, I didn't have to run, think, or remember.
---
Soft light brushed against my eyelids.
I stirred.
Pale morning rays filtered faintly through the narrow gaps between the rocks sealing the cave entrance, illuminating drifting dust in the air.
Morning.
I sat up abruptly.
"…Charlie?"
The space beside me was empty.
My heart skipped a beat.
Panic surged through me as I scanned the cave, my breathing growing shallow. I stood up quickly, my eyes darting toward the entrance, half-expecting something terrible to happen—
A faint scraping sound echoed. The boulder sealing the entrance shifted slightly, grinding against stone as thin slivers of pale light leaked through the gaps.
My heart leapt into my throat.
Footsteps.
I spun around just as Charlie stepped into the cave, his arms filled with unfamiliar fruits of various colors.
"Young Master," he said calmly.
I stared at him for a second longer than necessary.
"…Is this déjà vu?" I muttered, glancing around suspiciously as if to make sure there is no snake around.
Charlie blinked. "Did something happen, Young Master?"
"N-Nothing," I said quickly, then frowned. "But… don't disappear like that again. Please."
Charlie paused for a moment, then nodded. "I apologize. I'll be more careful."
The tension eased just a little as Charlie held out one of the fruits. Its unfamiliar color caught the faint light, and for the first time since waking, my shoulders loosened.
I let out a small, awkward laugh—more breath than sound—and took it from him.
"Thanks," I muttered, though the word felt heavier than it should have.
We ate in silence, the cave filled only with the soft sounds of chewing and distant forest echoes. The stillness wasn't peaceful, but it was bearable.
Once we finished, Charlie moved first. Together, we pushed the boulder aside and carefully cleared away the layers of leaves and moss concealing the entrance.
Cold, stale air rushed in.
We stepped out of the cave— and back into the oppressive quiet of the Silent Forest.
The Silent Forest welcomed us with an unsettling stillness.
Towering trees rose endlessly around us, their thick trunks twisted and ancient. Their dense canopies blocked most of the sunlight, casting the forest floor in perpetual shadow. Every rustle of leaves felt too loud. Every snap of a twig made my nerves tighten.
As we walked deeper, I glanced at Charlie.
"Do you know anything about this forest?"
Charlie shook his head. "Not much, Young Master. But I do know this—this forest is extremely dangerous. Even the Patriarch would never dare enter it. We must be cautious. We don't know when or where an attack might come from."
I swallowed hard, scanning the dark surroundings.
"Charlie… what do we do if that snake appears again?" I asked quietly. "Or if some other monster attacks us?"
"We avoid them," he replied immediately. "If we sense danger, we change direction. Unfortunately, I don't possess any sensory-type abilities, so we must rely on observation."
I nodded slowly.
After a brief silence, a thought struck me.
"Charlie… there are levels in abilities, right?" I asked. "Then… what level are you?"
Charlie hesitated before answering.
"This servant stands only at the low to moderate level. Against real monsters, my strength is insignificant."
That surprised me. "Then how are those levels defined?"
Charlie walked a few steps in silence before replying, as if choosing his words carefully.
"There are different levels of strength—Very Low, Low, Moderate, High, and Very High," he said. "As for anything beyond that… I don't truly know if such levels exist."
He paused briefly, then added in a quieter voice,
"I have heard rumors," Charlie continued quietly, "of a rare few who have reached what is called Advanced-level control—individuals whose strength borders on the inhuman. Their abilities are said to defy common understanding."
He paused, eyes lowering slightly.
"And beyond even that… there are legends of those who attained Peak-level control—beings spoken of more like myths than people. Figures whose existence alone could alter the balance of nations."
Charlie shook his head slowly.
"But those are only stories passed down through generations. I have never seen anyone with such power in my lifetime. Whether they truly exist… I cannot say."
He paused for a heartbeat and added—
"If such levels do exist, they are far beyond my understanding."
"But how are they measured?" I pressed.
"They are measured by control," Charlie explained. "Raw power means nothing if it cannot be restrained. The greater one's control over their ability, the higher their true level. And when someone possesses a destructive ability with high-level control… they become nothing short of a monster."
He continued, his voice steady.
"There is nature energy everywhere in this world," Charlie said quietly. "It exists in the air, the earth, even within living beings. A cultivator draws in that energy and refines it inside their body."
I frowned slightly. "Refines it…?"
"Yes," he continued. "That refined energy gradually gathers and solidifies, forming what we call an energy core."
"An energy core?" I repeated, the term feeling heavy on my tongue.
Charlie nodded. "It forms at specific points within the body. You cannot rush it. Nature energy must be refined slowly, carefully—strengthening the core bit by bit. If the refinement is unstable, the core itself can crack or collapse."
His voice grew serious. "That is why cultivation requires patience, discipline, and proper guidance."
I listened intently as we walked.
"The level of a person," Charlie explained slowly, "is determined by how many energy cores they have formed within their body."
He raised a finger.
"Those who manage to form a single energy core are classified under very low or low. With two cores, one enters the moderate level. Forming three energy cores places someone in the high tier, and those who refine it further are considered very high."
"So… to grow stronger, you cultivate nature energy?"
"Yes," he said. "But for that, one needs a cultivation technique. The quality of the technique determines how fast and how strong the energy core becomes."
He paused, then lowered his gaze.
"The Reyes family possessed one of the finest cultivation techniques," Charlie said quietly. "But… it has been lost now. I'm sorry, Young Master."
I clenched my fists, my nails biting into my palms.
"So this is how cultivation works…" I said softly, trying to take it all in.
Charlie nodded after a brief pause.
"Yes. There may be more to it—secrets beyond my understanding—but this servant knows only this much."
His honesty left a strange heaviness in my chest.
We walked in silence for a few steps, the forest crunching softly beneath our feet. The words he had spoken kept echoing in my mind—energy cores, levels, cultivation techniques...
Finally, I spoke again.
"Then… what about your cultivation technique, Charlie?"
He didn't answer immediately.
When he did, his voice was calm—too calm.
"It is a low-level technique," he said. "That is why I remain stuck at this level, no matter how much I train."
I stopped walking.
The forest seemed to hush around us, as if even the trees were listening. My breath came slower, heavier, and before I realized it, my feet were rooted to the ground.
Slowly, I turned toward him.
The words had been forming in my chest for a while now—pressed there by grief, by fear, by helpless rage—and once they surfaced, I couldn't push them back down.
"Then teach me," I said.
My voice was quiet, but there was no hesitation in it. No doubt.
Charlie halted as well, his step freezing mid-stride. He turned, surprise flickering across his worn features as he looked at me properly for the first time since we began walking.
The forest air felt tighter between us.
"Teach me," I repeated, clenching my fists at my sides. "Teach me how to cultivate nature energy. Teach me how to fight back."
For a moment, Charlie said nothing.
His gaze searched my face—taking in my shaking hands, my sunken eyes, the grief I hadn't been able to bury yet. His expression hardened, not with anger, but with something heavier… concern.
"Teach me how to cultivate nature energy," I repeated, my voice firmer this time. "If your technique is all we have left… then I'll start with that."
Charlie's eyes widened slightly.
"I want to become stronger," I continued, the words spilling out before I could stop them. "I don't want to keep running. I don't want to be protected forever."
My chest burned.
"I want to avenge our family."
The forest fell eerily quiet around us.
Charlie stared at me for a long moment, conflict flashing clearly across his face.
Charlie opened his mouth to respond—
Thud.
Thud.
Heavy footsteps echoed through the forest.
Both of us froze.
Something was coming.