Silence. The weight of his words sank like a stone in the girls' chests. Even the forest seemed to listen; its usual chorus of insects and rustles dimmed beneath the gravity of his voice.
Oliver's eyes narrowed, his hand hovering over the hilt of his sword as if the gesture itself embodied his next thought.
"In cultivation," he said, his voice low and deliberate, "failure isn't just dying. It's worse. You lose everything—your power, your spirit, and even your will. You become a hollow shell, no different from beasts that scrape in the mud. And those with a shred of talent left in them?"
He leaned in, smirking faintly. "They get eaten. Their Qi is stolen by those strong enough to take it. That's how the strong survive, and the weak disappear."
Kaede's lips parted, trembling. "That's… monstrous."
Oliver shrugged. "That's nature. Do you think the hawk pities the rabbit before it dives? The only difference is, cultivators are rabbits who one day decide they've had enough—and grow wings sharp enough to slice the hawk in half."
Luna purred low in her throat at the words, almost smug at being the example he used earlier. She seemed to glow under his hand, tail flicking like she'd already chosen which path she was walking.
Takara's eyes, however, gleamed with something harder. "So the world isn't fair… But you've already proven you can bend it. What does that make you?"
He chuckled, almost boyishly, but the sound carried no innocence. "Me? I'm just another rabbit who decided I'd rather eat hawks than be their dinner." His tone sharpened, slicing through their doubts. "And if you want to follow me, you'll need to decide whether you're willing to do the same."
The three girls exchanged glances. Sana swallowed, her voice shaking but firm. "And if we're not?"
Oliver's smirk softened into something unreadable. "Then you'll stay weak. And the first hawk that circles overhead… will carry you off." He straightened, brushing dirt from his sleeve as if the matter were closed. "Your choice. Not mine."
For a moment, no one spoke. The forest was heavy with the weight of decision.
Then, Kaede whispered under her breath, almost too soft to hear: "I don't… want to be prey anymore."
The words hung in the air like a spark in dry grass.
Oliver's eyes flicked toward her, the corner of his mouth curling. "Good. That's the first step. The intent to stop being weak. The rest… we'll build from there."
He snapped his fingers, and the faint flame appeared again, its glow reflecting in all their eyes.
"Now. Let's see if you can take your first breath on the path."
He smiled, sudden and wolfish, and tossed his travel bag toward them. It landed with a heavy thud in the dirt, startling Kaede, who instinctively flinched back.
"Tell me," Oliver drawled, stretching his shoulders, "have any of you gotten high since coming here?"
The girls blinked. Silence.
"…No," Sana said first, hesitant, as though it were some sort of trap. Takara shook her head firmly, while Kaede's cheeks flushed red, offended by the absurdity of the question.
"No? Not once?" Oliver's brows lifted, like their answer actually disappointed him.
Kaede stammered, "Why—why would we? We're stranded, hunted, and—"
Takara, ever quicker than the rest, narrowed her eyes and tugged at the bag's flap. "What are you… hiding in here?"
The zipper rasped open. Her ears twitched at the earthy smell that immediately flooded out.
Inside, neatly packed beside school supplies and a book, was a half-empty bag of weed.
Kaede's jaw dropped. "You—you're kidding me…"
Takara pinched the bridge of her nose. "You actually brought drugs? Into… this?"
Oliver only laughed, low and sharp, the sound slicing through their disbelief. "Drugs? No. Tools." He plucked the bag back from Takara's hands with ease, holding it up to the fading light as if it were sacred.
"This," he said, "is one of the crudest, dirtiest ways to bend your perception. To tear your awareness wide open and let the world crawl inside. You want to feel Qi? To breathe in the life force floating around you? Then you need to unchain your senses. That's all cultivation really is."
He let the half-bag spill into his palm, sprinkling the herb across his hand. "In most stories I've read, before cultivation pills and elixirs existed, the ancients survived on raw, wild Qi herbs—burning their lungs, twisting their minds, all just to scrape out strength."
His fingers curled shut, heat flaring between them. Fire hissed as the leaves smoldered, smoke snaking through the cracks of his fist.
"And those are the footsteps I'll follow," Oliver said, lifting his hand to his lips. He inhaled deeply, letting the smoke claw down his throat, his Qi trembling and surging. "Through trial and error, I'll carve out the right path. Find the herbs that sharpen me… and survive the ones that break me."
He exhaled, smoke curling from his mouth like a dragon's breath. His eyes sharpened, faint light flickering in their depths.
"Weed… is my first breakthrough."
He smirked. "With luck, the ferns we're headed toward will be my second."
The girls exchanged uneasy looks. Smoke curled from Oliver's hand like some strange incense—heavy, pungent, and warm, humming faintly against their skin.
"Go on," Oliver urged, his voice calm yet commanding. "Don't be afraid of it. Let it sink in. Feel what your body does with it."
Kaede hesitated the longest, lips pressed thin, but Haruna leaned forward first. Her delicate fingers cupped the faint trail rising from his fist, guiding it toward her lips. She inhaled—then coughed violently, eyes watering. But her hand flew to her abdomen as her expression shifted.
"...It's warm," she whispered, breath trembling. "It's… moving."
Oliver's lips curved. "Good. That's Qi stirring. The smoke forces your body to react—your lungs strain, your blood races, and in that chaos, the energy around you seeps in."
At last, Kaede relented. She drew in a breath of smoke, doubled over coughing, but then froze. Her body shuddered as something faint ignited below her navel, like a hidden ember pulsing to life. Her wide eyes shot to Oliver in disbelief.
"I… I really feel it."
"Of course you do," he laughed low in his chest. "That swelling heat in your abdomen? That's the first step. Most people would spend years meditating just to brush against it. And you—" he gestured at them both—"broke the surface with a single breath of smoke."
Sana's brows knitted. "Most people? I thought you said you were just a shut-in. Shouldn't you be speaking hypothetically?"
Oliver chuckled, eyes narrowing with amusement. "How long do you think I've been here?"
The girls' gazes flicked to his clothes—sliced for his swords but otherwise neat and intact. A troubling thought struck them. They had assumed he was more experienced in this strange world than they were… But by how much?
"As of right now?" Oliver tilted his head. "Half a day."
The words crashed into them like thunder. They froze, stunned, waiting for an explanation.
"It's true," Oliver said evenly. "But that doesn't mean this is my first time. I've been here longer than any of you—watched people arrive and die without realizing it. I've seen trees shift, rivers vanish, mountains crumble, and time itself rush past in a blink."
"Yet I alone," he finished, "have been the only one to leave this world—and return—as I please."