Yanyan’s POV

I was staring at myself in thought, half-amused and half-empty. People called me strong — too strong, sometimes — yet none of that brought me peace. Beating the bandits had given a flash of satisfaction, but it faded fast. Power without purpose feels hollow.

I flicked my wrist and the little floating status window appeared, invisible to everyone but me.

SYSTEM — Lv. 2500 | STR 2000 | MAG 3000 | AGI 1800 | VIT 1700
Cultivation: Core Formation — High (Stage 4)
Titles: The Man Who Exceeds Limits • Heavenly Beast Tamer

The numbers were obscene for a twelve‑year‑old body, but that was the point. I wasn’t limited to cultivation alone — my System layered on top of my Qi training like a second spine. Cultivation gave me Ki, aura, and soul techniques; the System gave levels, skill ranks, and instant abilities. The two worked together. I’d long stopped pretending they were separate.

I sighed. “Where do I even use all this power?” I muttered. Then I shrugged, fixed my tattered black sleeveless top, and went looking for trouble. Or rather, practice.

The Death Forest earned its name for a reason. In the old wars of the Eight Continents many cultivators had fallen here; the woods held gravestones of old duels and half‑forgotten formations. It was perfect training ground — and it smelled of danger. Which, in my book, meant fun.

I took to the air using Aerial and melted into Invisivobaltile. Above the tree line a golden light caught my eye; closer, a flying sword shimmered like a comet. On it stood a girl, barely a teen, sweat on her brow, glancing over her shoulder. Chasing her — also on flying swords — were three men, arrogance written in their posture.

Pathetic. Three grown cultivators chasing one runaway girl? Couldn’t they at least be subtle.

I wrapped my mana in a thin veil of invisibility and fired a subtle Golden Ray at their blades. The light struck the swords and sent a trance through the riders; their formation staggered as if someone had yanked a string inside their heads.

“Hey—Ryu! What the—our sword’s acting weird!” one cursed, fumbling.

“You think I’d know? Young Master Ken, what do you say?” another said, annoyed.

“Senior…we disturbed someone’s cultivation,” the third replied quickly, suddenly respectful. “We should apologize.”

They knelt simultaneously, hands clasped, which was just as well. Half of them still didn’t realize there wasn’t an old master here — just me.

I let my aura leak out to cover the clearing — fifty percent only; I wanted the lesson to sting but not to kill. Their eyes went white with fear. One of them blurted, “Senior, please spare us. We were ordered to bring the princess back to the kingdom.”

Princess. Right.

“So she ran?” I asked. “Why does the first prince force his way on girls? Tell me.”

They told their story in nervous fragments: a political marriage, a domineering prince from the Dan family, two hundred wives — many taken by force. My chest heated. Rage was stupid and ugly, but righteous anger has a place.

“How despicable,” I murmured, and let out a controlled wave of aura. It washed over them like a tidal warning.

“We’re sorry, senior!” they whimpered, scrambling back on trembling legs. I let them go, but not without sending them with a final warning: “Don’t come back into my territory. If the Dan family tries anything here, they’ll answer to me.”

They fled like dogs.

I dropped out of invisibility and sailed toward the hill where the girl had sheltered. She sat with her head bowed; her blue‑brown hair was tied into a ponytail. When our eyes met, something in my chest tugged — an odd warmth, sudden and stupid. I was twelve, not a poet.

“Don’t run. I’m not here to take you,” I said, landing lightly in front of her.

She flinched, voice sharp. “Who are you? I hid my presence—how did you find me?”

I smirked. “You hid well, but not from me. Come now — no need to be afraid.”

She opened her mouth, “Se—” and then I teleported, so she froze in place like a statue. Teleportation was a System skill — quick, clean, and very annoying to be on the receiving end of when you expected to run.

“Don’t call me senior,” I grinned. “I’m Yan. What are you doing in my Death Forest?”

She glared, cheeks reddening. “This is my territory?”

“Technically,” I said, stretching one hand toward the forest. “But I don’t bite.” I offered her my hand to help her up. Her fingers were small and trembling.

Her voice was quiet when she answered. “Celine. Celine Tong.”

“Celine Tong,” I repeated, like tasting the sound. “You ran away?”

She looked away, biting her lip. “My father—they tried to force me into an engagement. I couldn’t—”

“Then stay with me tonight,” I said before I could think. “You’ll be safe.” I reached into my pocket (System: Dimen‑Space) and produced a thin dragon ring — nothing too flashy, but it shone with a faint internal light. “This will hide you if you need it. Consider it a… welcome gift.”

She hesitated, then accepted it with hands that trembled as if she held something sacred. Her eyes shone; I felt oddly proud and ridiculous.

“Come meet my family,” I added. “They make strange drinks and worse jokes, but they’re kind.”

We flew back together. On the way down, Celesty — curled on my shoulder like the tiny Fenrir she liked to be — gave a soft chuff as if approving. My system blinked, unobtrusive: small notifications only I could see. System: New title candidate — Protector of a Princess (trial).

Two powers, one boy, and a night that would change more than just the weather. The System tracked my gains; cultivation deepened my core. Both would have their say in what came next — and I’d make sure they agreed.

— end —