"Before I begin teaching you, Evelyn, there are a few things you must know—lessons that go beyond techniques or cultivation. As your master, it's my duty to make sure you understand them."
Alex's voice was calm.
With the sun behind him on the mountain peak, his figure cast a long, golden silhouette, giving him the aura of a celestial descending to the mortal world.
Evelyn sat before him, tense with anticipation. Her hands were clenched tightly at her sides, and she focused all her attention on his words, afraid to miss a single syllable.
She hadn't even processed how he knew her name, especially when he'd never asked.
"I'm listening, Master," she replied, her tone earnest and respectful.
Alex gave a small, approving nod, then continued without pause.
"In this world, the world of cultivation is not about seeking enlightenment. Not truly. It is about survival, strength… and sacrifice."
Evelyn's breath hitched.
"The strong eat the weak. That is the first law. The Righteous sects will dress it up with talk of righteousness, brotherhood, and the Dao, but in the end, strength is what justifies all action."
Alex didn't stop.
"I will not teach you to be kind. I will not teach you to be merciful. I will teach you to endure, to claw your way upward no matter how far you fall. That is the only truth of this world."
His eyes flicked toward her, sharp as blades.
"And I will not allow you to die a fool's death chasing ideals that have never protected anyone."
Evelyn's heart pounded.
This was not what she expected.
No gentle reassurances, no warm encouragements. Only cold truth—delivered with the weight of someone who had seen too much, lost too much.
But somehow, that made it more real.
More trustworthy.
"Yes, Master," she whispered.
Alex Fang.
In the cultivation world, he was.... peculiar.
Affiliated with a demonic sect, many would rush to brand him as evil. But that would be an oversimplification.
To call him good, however, would be just as misleading.
From the eyes of an ordinary cultivator, Alex Fang was a paradox. A man obsessed with cultivation, ruthless in pursuit of strength, yet bound by a personal code of virtue that many so-called righteous sect cultivators lacked.
Still, the facts remained—he was a demonic cultivator.
And oddly enough, the new Alex didn't mind that identity at all.
In fact, he admired it.
He found the original Alex's mindset not only practical—but liberating.
The cultivation world was not some fairytale paradise.
It was ugly. Twisted. A place where rules were either chains or tools, and where the strong made the rules anyway.
The righteous sects liked to play at nobility, wrapping themselves in doctrine and ideals. But in the end, they lived easier lives—shielded by rules that protected the strong and stifled the weak.
In contrast, the demonic path was raw and real.
In this world, an enemy was often more trustworthy than a so-called ally.
Brothers schemed against each other.
Masters guarded against their disciples, manipulating them at every turn.
Alex had no plans to change his mindset.
He certainly wasn't going to train his disciple in the ways of the so-called righteous sects.
True, there were some lines he wouldn't cross—his morals differed from the original Alex in certain ways—but he had no intention of raising a naïve do-gooder.
This was the cultivation world.
Here, the one with the bigger fist lived longer.
And the strongest… was always right.
Alex fell silent for a moment, letting the weight of his words hang in the air.
The wind stirred Evelyn's hair as the golden light of the setting sun bathed the mountain peak in warmth that contrasted the chill in his voice.
Then, slowly, he tilted his head.
"What did you understand from what I just said?" he asked, voice quieter now—but no less sharp.
Evelyn blinked, startled.
She opened her mouth to speak, then closed it again.
Her gaze dropped for a second before she met his eyes, steady despite the nervous twist in her gut.
"I… I think you're saying that cultivation isn't about right or wrong. It's about power," she said carefully.
"That… no one will protect me just because I believe in good things. That if I want to survive, if I want to grow, I have to become strong enough to protect myself."
Alex didn't respond immediately.
The silence stretched.
A few seconds later.
"Good."
"Your foundation isn't built with technique. It's built with mindset," Alex said. "Those who misunderstand that—no matter how talented—die early."
Alex turned his gaze eastward.
"I won't coddle you, Evelyn. But I won't throw you to the wolves, either. Learn well, and I will give you strength. Disappoint me…"
He didn't finish the sentence.
He didn't need to.
Evelyn bowed her head. "I understand, Master."
Alex nodded once, satisfied.
Then his gaze settled on her again.
"Then tell me," he said, voice steady. "What is cultivation?"
Evelyn paused.
The question seemed simple, but she knew it wasn't.
She drew in a slow breath.
"To gain power," she said.
Alex tilted his head slightly, as if considering her answer.
"You're not wrong," he said at last. "Power is the natural result of cultivation. A necessary one. But it is not the goal."
Evelyn blinked.
"The true aim of cultivation—the reason men have thrown away their lives, endured hardship, and challenged the heavens—is immortality."
"To live beyond the grasp of time. To defy death itself. That is what drives most cultivators, whether they admit it or not."
He looked back at her.
"Power is a desirable bonus. It opens doors. Cracks open the heavens. But at its core, cultivation is a war against the inevitable."
Evelyn swallowed hard.
Immortality.
She had never thought of it that way.
"But what if someone doesn't want immortality?" she asked quietly. "What if they just… want to survive?"
Alex's gaze was unreadable.
"Then they'll never reach the peak."
His tone was final.
"You must understand this, Evelyn. Those who walk the cultivation path with small dreams are devoured by those whose ambition knows no end."
He stepped forward, the weight of his presence settling like stone.
"Even if you claim not to seek immortality now… one day, when your hands are stained with blood and the world trembles beneath your feet—you will."