Chapter 4: Time Flies

  Over Pinemist Mountain, the seasons flashed past. During the searing heat of summer, the harsh sun beat down on Damon, his skin glistening as he sprinted up the mountain with a backpack full of rocks. As the dried leaves of autumn drifted about in the wind, Damon stood in the forest shooting arrows at the falling leaves. When the snow of winter covered the mountain, screams of agony rang out inside the cave, causing some of the snow to tumble down the cliff. The floral scent of spring drowned the area around Damon as he meditated amidst the flower petals fluttering through the air.

  Two years later, Damon let out a heavy breath as he finished his daily cultivation. His lips turned up into a small smile as he inspected the Mind Node within his own mind. It had grown considerably in size since his first awakening, and it now radiated with much more power.

  “So this is the so-called mid stage of the Node Awakening Realm. I have finally managed to reach it after all this time.”

  Damon had now grown a head taller, and his body was strong and sturdy. Numerous scars and calluses adorned his body, especially his hands.

  He picked up the Sutra and flipped over to the section about the mid stage of Node Awakening.

  You have finally reached the mid stage of Node Awakening. Here, your mental power now has the strength and capacity to be channeled into physical objects. This ability is called telekinesis. Using this, you will be able to move things with your mind…

  Damon’s eyes glowed bright as he read through the pages. This was it. This was the power he sought. He immediately ran outside to test the power. Once more, he stood facing a small stone sitting atop a boulder. Surely, this time it would work.

  He focused intensely on the stone, widening his eyes as he circulated the power within his mind. Nothing happened. What is this? Did I do it wrong? Is it the stone?

  “Are you an idiot?” Silas’s voice reverberated within his mind.

  Damon did not react to the voice. He had gotten used to it over the years. The old man continued to reside in his mind, occasionally assisting in his cultivation, but usually just making fun of him.

  He approached the stone and picked it up. As he tossed the stone a few times into the air, he had a sudden thought. Holding the stone atop his open palm, he focused on channeling the power within his mind.

  The stone floated into the air unsteadily before dropping back into his hand. Damon’s face grew heated as he thought of all the time he had wasted staring at the stone.

  So, I had to touch it? That made things a bit more difficult. The power would have its limits. However, the scenes of Silas’s abilities flashed past his mind. The methods displayed were not as simple as that. Silas had definitely been able to move things without having to touch them first. There must be a different reason. Perhaps he was just too weak at the moment.

  “Master Silas, you were able to use telekinesis without needing to touch an object. Why can I not do the same?”

  Silas materialized in front of him with a scoff.

  “Are you already trying to compare yourself with me? The path of cultivation is not so simple. Currently, you don’t have enough mental power to properly channel it into objects from a distance. Later, you will be able to create tangible threads, controlling objects like a puppeteer.”

  While nodding in response, Damon closed his eyes and imagined a future where he obtained a strength similar to the visions of Silas he had seen. After his momentary lapse in focus, he regained his concentration and began channeling his power into the stone again. He felt a connection to the stone, as though a thin, invisible thread linked him to it. It almost felt like an extension of his own body. His thought was enough to make it move. This time, it flew away from him and struck the trunk of a tree in the distance.

  Narrowing his eyes, he picked up another stone from the ground.

  This isn’t enough. I still need more practice.

  Several months later, a boy around the age of 14 ran down the main road of the village pulling a wooden frame filled with branches. Although it was called the main road for this village, it was little more than a clearing of dirt, with rickety old wooden shacks propped up sporadically on either side.

  “Hey Damon, we’re going to go play in the lake before the winter cold arrives! Do you want to come with us?”

  A boy called out from a group of children walking by.

  “Older Brother Jon, I need to take these branches to your house. After that, I still need to make my trips to the mountain spring. Maybe next time!” Damon responded, a bright smile shining through his face, covered in sweat and grime.

  “That’s too bad! There are some people here who want to know you better!” Jon winked at Damon as he pointed to a pair of young girls standing near the back of the group. The girls singled out by Jon screamed and hid behind the bigger children with red faces.

  Damon didn’t respond and just flashed a silly grin back at Jon, a tall, broad-shouldered boy with short blonde hair and ash gray eyes. He then waved at all the children while continuing to run down the road.

  An elderly man idling under a cypress tree near the village entrance clicked his tongue. “Look at him. He doesn’t need to work so hard. He should be off having fun with the other children. Instead, he insists on doing menial chores for a few copper coins and grains.”

  “The boy adamantly refused our support.” Another elderly man smoking a pipe added. Shaking his head, he continued. “What can we do when he chooses to run up and down the mountain for his share? Last time I went up Pinemist Mountain, I even heard him talk to himself.” All the other elderly figures around them also shook their heads and sighed as they listened.

  Damon was currently unloading the branches under the awning in the Chief’s yard, not knowing the elders were talking about him. He had no idea they had heard him converse with Silas either, and that they thought he had gone insane. He was too busy finishing his chores quickly because he had more important things to do.

  Although he had told the other children that he had to run buckets of water to the village, he had already finished that chore early in the morning. He had to go to his secret cave to cultivate.

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  Finished with the daily chores he had long become accustomed to over the past couple of years, Damon received a few copper coins and a sack filled with grain from the village chief. He thanked the chief with a bow and turned to run back up the mountain.

  As Damon journeyed up the mountain, he stopped by his home to drop off the wooden frame and the sack of grain. His gaze slowly drifted around the yard as a scene played out in front of him. A young Damon ran around trying to catch a lizard, as his parents watched and laughed. The illusory Damon ran into the shack, followed by his mother and father, disappearing from his view. Heaving a long sigh, he turned around and continued his trek.

  The mountain, or rather the secret that lay within, now occupied most of his time. Although he knew that he should not dwell on past memories, lest they affect his cultivation, he could not prevent himself from remembering these simpler times. Shaking his head in an attempt to empty his mind, he continued to trek further up the mountain.

  Despite the mountains being heavily shrouded in mist, there was no hesitation in his steps as he walked up the trail. His vision was not obscured by the mist in the slightest, as if it did not exist. After a short while, he reached the familiar clearing filled with stones and boulders and walked directly into the cliffside, vanishing from view. The clearing regained its tranquility, and there was no sign of any living presence.

  As he walked over to sit beside the Mind Essence spring, he glanced around the spacious hall. A makeshift wooden table occupied the center of the space, atop which lay a row of miscellaneous items: crystalline vials of various colors, many notebooks, scraps of parchment, small empty boxes, and a short golden sword. The two sides of the cave were flanked by a stack of disorganized bedding and a small campfire for heating water or food, respectively. This had been his primary place of residence for the past two and a half years.

  “You’re only 14 years old. Don’t you want to go and play with the other kids?” Silas emerged from thin air and sat across from him.

  “Stop teasing me, Master Silas.” Damon scrunched his nose at the thought. “I have no time to waste. I must cultivate.”

  Silas just smiled in response, quietly watching Damon delve into his own thoughts, a glint of pride passing through his illusory face.

  “I should now have the strength to fight the bandits. Why have they not come back, even after all this time? Should I go to them instead? Why does that not appeal to me anymore?”

  Damon was speaking to himself, a habit developed from being alone for years, except for the occasional conversations with Silas.

  “Master Silas, I can’t feel the same hatred toward the bandits as I did before. In my heart, the fire of rage still burns… But it feels like it's been suppressed by something. Now I just feel empty. Am I losing myself to cultivation?”

  Silas nodded. “No. You are still yourself. The awakening of your Mind Node, along with circulating mental power daily, causes your consciousness to remain calm, with any hint of agitation or panic disappearing. When the time comes, your powerful emotions will emerge once more, so you don’t have to worry about becoming an emotionless beast.”

  “I see… So it’s because of mental power…” Damon mused.

  “The true allure of cultivation is not the increased lifespan that comes with the progression, nor the power to create mysterious phenomena, but rather the understanding of the world. Gaining strength is but a mere secondary pursuit. Expanding your philosophy and accumulating knowledge is what you should strive toward. Do not give in to momentary temptation and lose focus of your aspirations.”

  Silas expounded as Damon listened with rapt focus, sitting cross-legged with his back upright. His hands were gathered in front of his navel, with his unblinking eyes fixed on his Master.

  Damon reaffirmed his personal conviction and pushed the thought of revenge to the back of his mind. As his breathing calmed and his mind relaxed, he began his daily cultivation. Chanting in a mysterious language, tiny threads invisible to the human eye slowly coalesced around him and entered his mind through the center of his forehead.

  After around two hours, he finished chanting and opened his eyes. He stretched his neck as it was stiff from remaining absolutely still. Afterward, he prepared for the second part of his cultivation. It was the mind spike tempering.

  Recalling the first time he had experienced the intense pain, he let out a deep sigh. If he had been any less determined, he would not have managed to continue to endure through the torment through the years. He stopped thinking of the past and began the process.

  After another agonizing mind-spiking session, Damon now stood with his eyes closed in a forest not far from the cave. Targets hung from the branches of numerous nearby trees. All different sizes, and hung at different heights. He held his father’s old bow in his hand, with a quiver of arrows he had fletched himself attached to his waist.

  Initially, his fletching skills were inconsistent, as it was more delicate and difficult than he expected. However, after he had gained the ability to use telekinesis, he no longer needed to fletch the arrow with feathers, animal hide, or parchment. He could just sharpen the head and make the body uniform. The stabilization that the other materials provided could be covered by his mental power.

  After calming his thoughts and steadying his breath, he opened his eyes, mental power surging out in a wave. During his training in the past several months, he had discovered that he could spread his mental power around him. Currently, this radius was around two dozen feet wide. The exact locations of every target scattered around, even if they were hidden behind trees or boulders, were clear as day in his mind. He closed his eyes, but it was like he was looking directly at them.

  Damon grabbed an arrow with his right hand, nocking it in the bowstring before pulling it tight. The arrow was fired, flying directly at the trunk of a tree. There was no target in its current path. At the last second, the arrow curved and flew around the trunk, hitting a target hidden behind the tree. He practiced this exercise several more times with targets in different locations.

  “Whew… Okay, that was good. Now, the next exercise.” He released a long breath and took a small break before beginning his next drill.

  Damon took out three arrows, nocking them all on the bowstring. This time, he intended to control three arrows at once. He pulled the bowstring back in one fluid motion before shooting them in one direction. Three separate targets were hung straight in a row, the front hiding the other two behind. The middle arrow flew in a direct line for the first target, while the left and right arrows flew in an arc, dodging the forward target and each hitting their specified targets squarely in the center.

  “Okay, this has gotten easier as well. Now, for my final practice. It’s my trump card… but I just can’t get it exactly right.”

  Damon calmed his breathing and cleared his head once more. Once he was in his peak condition, he ran his hand over the arrows in his quiver. Ten arrows floated up from the quiver at the same time. Damon’s brows were furrowed and beaded with sweat, and his jaw was clenched tight as he placed all his concentration on controlling the numerous projectiles. This was his current limit for control.

  “Go!”

  He gave a small shout as he pushed his right arm forward, his fingers extending outward. The arrows all flew in different directions, curving at different angles before finding their distinct targets. His vision blurred, and he almost dropped to a knee. However, he caught himself at the last second by holding onto a tree trunk next to him.

  The feeling of controlling multiple objects simultaneously was similar to grasping numerous slippery fish at once. It was too easy for his concentration to waver slightly, immediately ruining his control.

  Damon inspected the targets he had aimed at. Eight. Only eight hit their targets in the center. One of the other arrows had wobbled but still managed to find the target. However, it had only barely clipped the edge. The last arrow had spun out of control and completely missed its mark, burying itself in the dirt below.

  Clap. Clap. Clap. Silas appeared behind him while clapping his hands, though the actual sound only resounded in Damon’s mind.

  “That was impressive. A huge improvement from a month ago. However, don’t get ahead of yourself just yet. You should continue practicing while you can. Peace does not last forever.”

  Damon bowed his head slightly at his Master. However, he disagreed with him.

  “I think this is already more than enough to take care of some mere bandits. I should pay them a visit soon.”

  Damon bared his teeth in a fierce grimace, the tight muscles all over his body contracting, as he thought about avenging his parents and the other villagers. Soon, he would be able to send them the good news of the bandits' elimination.