When Ishan opened his eyes, the world transformed before him.
The battlefield stretched out like a colossal chessboard, each tree, man, and blade of grass a living pawn moving across it. Every shift in the wind, every flick of a wrist, every heartbeat — he could see them all in perfect, glacial detail.
It was as if time itself had slowed to one-tenth of its pace.
Back on Earth, when Ishan had first developed this technique himself, he could only slow perception to half speed. But here… the energy around him was different — alive, vibrant, responsive. His mind, sharper than any mortal's, could handle this heightened flow.
From a distance, he studied the duel between the bald bandit chief and Old Killer Axe — the weathered warrior still standing firm despite his injuries. Ishan's eyes tracked every swing, every twitch, every flaw in the rhythm of battle.
Within moments, he had read the fight like a book.
Then, suddenly, he shouted:
"Grandfather! Step back two paces — then duck low and strike right with full force!"
Old Killer Axe barely heard him over the clash of steel, but something in that young voice — calm yet commanding — struck him. Without hesitation, he followed the order.
He stepped back — just as a gleaming dagger sliced through the air where his throat had been an instant before.
The old man's eyes widened. That strike… would have killed him.But the boy had seen it coming — from dozens of meters away.
Shock turned to awe. Who in the heavens is this child?Even while fighting face-to-face, Killer Axe himself had struggled to read the bandit's moves. Yet this boy had analyzed both warriors from afar — and predicted the flow of battle as though watching pieces move on his mental board.
A roar snapped him from thought — the bald bandit, having heard Ishan's shout, turned with rage blazing in his eyes.
"You meddling brat!"
But before he could move, his instincts betrayed him. He shifted his stance right — directly into Killer Axe's rising swing.
The old warrior's axe cleaved upward in a blinding arc, powered by the last of his strength.The blade bit deep — from the base of the neck down through the abdomen — splitting muscle and bone.
Blood sprayed like a crimson fountain. The bald man stumbled, clutching at the mortal wound as disbelief clouded his eyes. He looked once at Ishan, then at Killer Axe — and collapsed like a felled tree.
Silence swallowed the clearing.
Killer Axe stood frozen, panting heavily. He hadn't expected that final strike to connect so perfectly — nor did he understand how that boy's single shout had changed everything.
He turned toward Ishan, wanting to speak — but before a word escaped, his body trembled violently. He coughed blood, crimson staining his beard.
"Grandfather!" cried Rashi, the young woman who held the carriage reins. She leapt down and caught the old man as he staggered. "Are you all right? What happened to you?"
"Don't worry, child," he rasped, forcing a smile. "It's just… my old wounds acting up again."
Then, turning toward Ishan, he straightened with dignity, bowing slightly.
"Boy… thank you. Because of you, I was able to defeat that fiend. You saved me, my young mistress, and Rashi. We owe you our lives."
Ishan simply nodded, his tone calm and humble.
"They just rubbed me the wrong way, that's all. Anyway, I only came here to ask for directions. Could you tell me how to reach Lightning Dragon City?"
The old man blinked, then chuckled.
"Ah, so that's where you're headed. Yes — this road leads there. You'll first pass through a sub-division called Sehdra. From there, any public transport or merchant caravan can take you straight to the city."
Ishan nodded, mentally noting the path. He could already sense the old man's ailment — the irregular flow of his life energy, the corrupted pulse in his meridians. He even knew how to cure it. But before he could say more, the old man spoke again:
"By the way, lad… your observational skill was remarkable. You read that battle faster than even a trained cultivator could."
Ishan smiled faintly.
"You're flattering me, sir. Sometimes, the one who watches the game sees more than those playing it."
The old man laughed softly. There was something about this boy — something unfitting for his youthful face. His manner, his gaze… they held the calm of someone who had seen far too much.
After a pause, he said:
"Boy, since you're heading to Lightning Dragon City, why not travel with us? We could use an extra guard. You'll have safe passage — and I'll pay you two hundred gold coins for the journey."
In this world, currency followed strict hierarchy:Copper for the poor, silver worth ten copper, and gold worth one hundred silver — enough to feed a family for months. A single merchant group's total expense rarely exceeded four hundred gold. Offering Ishan half that amount was generosity beyond measure.
He hesitated only a moment before nodding.
"All right, sir. I'll accept. And in return, allow me to help you treat that injury."
The old man looked surprised, then chuckled, mistaking Ishan's confidence for naivety.
"Very well. For now, take the driver's seat — I'll follow on horseback."
Ishan climbed up front, taking the reins. The old warrior mounted his steed beside the carriage. As they set off, a soft, melodious voice floated from behind the thick curtains of the carriage:
"Thank you… for saving us. When we return, I'll make sure you're properly rewarded for your bravery."
The voice was sweet, soothing — like a harp in moonlight.Ishan turned, curious, but the heavy curtain concealed her completely. With a small sigh, he smiled helplessly and faced forward again.
"Figures… beautiful voice, invisible face. My luck, as always."
He shook his head and focused on the road ahead.The Sehdra sub-division lay nearly four hundred kilometers away — though ironically, Ishan had been heading in the opposite direction.
Yes — the great adventurer himself had taken a wrong turn.
To reach Lightning Dragon City now, he'd have to loop around a distant river crossing nearly 390 kilometers ahead, then pass through the first village of Sehdra — Sehara — before continuing another three hundred kilometers inward. Even with horse-drawn speed, the journey would take nearly twenty-five to thirty days.
As night fell, the group made camp. The two girls remained in the carriage while Ishan and the old man pitched their tents. Ishan hunted in the nearby woods, returning with fresh game. His knife moved with practiced precision — within minutes, the meat sizzled over a crackling fire, sending waves of rich aroma through the night air.
The old man joined him gladly, settling by the fire. But just as they began to eat, a shy voice called from the carriage:
"Grandfather… the Y-young Miss also… wanted some of that."
Killer Axe smirked knowingly.
"And what about you, Rashi? You don't want any?"
Rashi's cheeks flushed crimson.
"I—I mean… of course I do! But—"
The old man burst out laughing. Even Ishan couldn't help but grin. With a chuckle, he cut two portions and handed them to Rashi.
She hesitated, glancing at Ishan — her eyes flickering nervously before she accepted the food. For a heartbeat too long, she didn't move — simply stared at him as if he were something rare.
Ishan blinked.
"...What?"
Rashi panicked, her face turning as red as fire. She spun around and darted toward the carriage as though chased by a beast.
"Girls…" the old man sighed, shaking his head with a smile.Ishan shrugged and continued eating, pretending not to notice the faint laughter coming from inside the carriage.
Inside, Rashi handed a portion of meat to the young lady within — a girl dressed in flowing emerald robes, elegant and regal. Her beauty was ethereal — smooth, flawless skin, features delicate as sculpted jade, and eyes that sparkled like twin stars beneath dark lashes.
Even her mild frown looked enchanting.
She lightly tapped Rashi's shoulder with mock annoyance.
"You couldn't mention your own name? Greedy thing!"
Rashi puffed her cheeks.
"If I had, and he refused, then you wouldn't get to taste this delicious meal, Miss!"
The girl smirked, eyes narrowing in amusement.
"Flattery won't save you. Hand it over."
She took a piece and bit into it — and immediately, her expression softened. The meat melted in her mouth, its flavor bursting like liquid fire. Her eyes widened slightly, cheeks flushing.
Rashi giggled.
"Told you! Miss, that boy may wear rags, but he's far too handsome — even better looking than that arrogant prince who keeps pestering you."
The girl froze mid-bite.
"Really?"
"Truly! I didn't notice at first, but when I did—gods above, his face could outshine half the young masters in the empire! And his muscles—so well-defined—"
"And how exactly did you see his muscles?" the young lady interrupted, arching a brow.
Rashi froze.
"Ah—I mean—when he was fighting, his clothes were… um… torn and I just—"
The lady's lips curved into a mischievous smile.
"I never knew my sweet, innocent Rashi was so bold… peeking under men's clothes now, are we?"
"No, Miss! That's not what—"
The carriage filled with laughter — light, melodic, and bright as chimes under the moonlight.Outside, by the fire, Ishan smiled faintly as the sound drifted through the night.
And so began the long journey toward Lightning Dragon City —a road of destiny, danger, and the first faint threads of fate weaving themselves around him.