Chapter 907 Decennial Storm

Chapter 907 Decennial Storm

While everyone was busy, Hana was relaxing in one of the hot springs, reading a book. It was a man who one day decided to leave his wife and family behind to go on a century-long adventure, or what he deemed as a 'Death March'. As a mortal man who lived off of nothing but Frostworm Silk, jumping from village to village, place to place simply to survive, he was tired of being at the whims of the powerful.

So, he chose to spend 100 years wandering. Either he'd become powerful enough to hold his head up high, or he'd die trying.

The story showed his early struggles and how many times he almost died from trivial things. The man knew next to nothing about cultivation. He could barely qualify as someone in the Body Tempering Realm before he left.

Hana turned the page, her interest piqued by the man's unwavering resolve and the stark honesty with which his journey was written. The book, titled "The Century Wanderer," delved deep into the psyche of a man who, despite being average in every conceivable way, possessed an extraordinary determination to transcend his limitations.

As she read on, the story unfolded the myriad hardships the Wanderer faced. He encountered bandits, fierce beasts, and even the harshness of nature itself. Each challenge was a lesson, each failure a stepping stone. What the Wanderer lacked in knowledge and power, he compensated for with an unyielding will to persevere.

Hana was particularly moved by a chapter where the Wanderer, after nearly losing his life to a venomous serpent, was saved by a reclusive cultivator. This encounter was pivotal; it was his first real introduction to the world of cultivation beyond the superficial understanding he possessed.

The cultivator, seeing the Wanderer's determination, offered him guidance, not in the form of techniques or spells, but in wisdom. "Cultivation is not just about finding some legendary technique," he said, "but understanding the world around us and mastering ourselves."

This piece of advice became the cornerstone of the Wanderer's journey. He began to see his journey not just as a quest for power but as a path to self-discovery. He learned to listen to the wind, to speak to the rivers, and to dance with the flames. Nature became his teacher, and with each step, he grew, not just in strength but in spirit.

The most compelling part of the book, at least for Hana, was the Wanderer's approach to cultivation. Without access to prestigious sects or powerful techniques, he cultivated by harmonizing with the elements, by understanding the essence of life. It was a slow process, fraught with trials and errors, but it was genuine.

Decades passed, and the man who once barely qualified as a Body Tempering Realm cultivator had now stepped into realms unheard of by ordinary cultivators. He had no sect, no designated path laid out by ancestors or masters, yet he carved his own way, creating a legacy that would inspire generations.

Towards the end of the book, the Wanderer completed his 100-year journey and returned to the place he once called home.

That is, until a fight between two powerhouses made its way over his village, killing him and everyone else as collateral damage.

"Huh? That's it?" Hana exclaimed, flipping through the pages, searching for any more words, but that was the last page. "Seriously? That's how the story ends? No wonder I never see anyone reading! What sort of trashy ending is this?!"

Tossing the book aside, Hana pouted. She understood that this was the nature of the world. Hell, she had seen Mira kill plenty of people merely because they were caught in the crossfire, but the least the author could do was embellish it a bit! Make it interesting!

As she meandered through the gardens, Hana admired the carefully maintained flora, noting the way the morning dew still clung to the petals of the blooming flowers and the leaves of the trees.

Her peace was short-lived, however, as a group of young cultivators entered the resort. They were hard to miss; eight men and six women, all wearing similar robes that marked them as belonging to a particular sect or group.

Their presence immediately filled the air with a subtle but undeniable tension. At a glance, even someone like Hana could feel the powerful auras they exuded. She couldn't help but feel a twinge of envy and curiosity. They were clearly young, looking like they were in their twenties but were probably a few decades older than that, yet they exuded confidence and strength she could only dream of.

She found herself inadvertently eavesdropping on their conversation, drawn in by their animated discussion about something called the "Decennial Storm."

"...it's supposed to be a massive event," one of the men said, his eyes alight with excitement. "They say the storm this time will reshape the Northern Continent, uncovering ancient ruins and forbidden grounds."

"Master said that even he's thinking about trying his luck this year!" a woman added, her voice tinged with anticipation. "Just imagine, if he's willing to fight through the storm, what kind of treasures and resources will be revealed? As long as we're a little lucky, we'll strike it rich!"

"Fuck! Really? Master's going to join?! Looks like the competition this time won't be light, then."

"Hmph! Just a bunch of peasants looking to kill themselves. Nothing competitive about that."

"...Right... Anyway, let's just enjoy our time here as we wait for the storm to come."

"Do you know when it'll be here?"

"Nah, but within the next year for sure."

Hana's heart raced as she listened. The Decennial sounded like an adventure of epic proportions, the kind of thing she longed for.

But as quickly as her excitement came, it was brought down by the realization of her own limitations. She was no powerful cultivator; she was, as she often felt, little more than dead weight in the grand scheme of things.

Still, the thought lingered in her mind, sparking a flame of expectation. Maybe this was the opportunity she had been waiting for.