The house was warm, filled with the quiet crackle of firewood. Roen sat by the table, his cup steaming faintly as Cain stepped in.
"Sit down, boy," Roen said with a smile. "You've done well lately. The villagers talk about how helpful you've been. You've made this place livelier."
Cain rubbed the back of his neck, a little awkward. "I just help where I can. It's nothing much."
Roen chuckled. "You always say that. But when I first met you, you barely spoke to anyone. Now you talk, you smile, you fit in. You've come a long way, Cain."
Cain smiled faintly. "You taught me everything. I just tried to listen."
Roen's expression softened. "Aye, maybe so. But this village can only teach you so much. You're young, strong, and you've got a steady mind. Staying here will only hold you back, although i feel sad to say that."
Cain looked puzzled. "Hold me back?"
Roen nodded slowly. "I used to be a cultivator. I've seen how this world works. Without strength, people will push you around. I've got an old friend in the city, a teacher at a cultivation academy. I'd like you to go there. Learn. Grow. See the world for yourself."
Cain sat quietly for a moment, staring at the fire. He felt unsettled to go to a new place after getting accustomed here but he knew the old man was right, he had no choice, Then he nodded. "If you think it's best… I'll go."
Roen smiled, his eyes full of pride — but behind it, a hint of sadness. "Good lad. I'll send word ahead. You'll leave in three days."
Cain nodded again, his calm eyes reflecting the firelight. The room felt heavier than before — warm, but in a way that made his chest ache.
He didn't know why leaving felt like losing something he never had words for.