After hours of weary travel through the fading light of evening, we finally reached our destination. Before us loomed the great gate of the city—tall, imposing, and unforgiving. Two soldiers stood guard, their silhouettes rigid against the torchlight, like gatekeepers of a world that did not belong to people like us.
They stepped forward as we approached, their eyes cold and calculating. My uncle lowered his voice and began speaking to them. I strained to hear, but the words were swallowed by the wind. Still, I didn't need to hear them—I had seen this scene too many times before.
The soldiers' expressions shifted, not with duty, but with greed. Their hands moved subtly, almost casually, yet with practiced ease. A few bronze coins—hard-earned, precious to us—slipped from my uncle's palm into theirs. Coins that could have bought food for days… gone in an instant.
The gate did not open for honesty. It opened for coins.
For people like us, survival meant bowing our heads and feeding the hunger of men who wore the king's armor but acted like street thugs. These soldiers were not protectors—they were predators, feeding on the weakness of villagers who had no choice but to endure.
And as we passed through the gate, I felt it heavier than ever—not the weight of the journey, but the crushing truth of a world where the poor paid the price just to exist.
As we stepped through the city gates, everything changed.
Uncle Xu walked ahead steadily, but I couldn't stop looking around. The streets were overflowing with people—far more than I had ever seen in my village. Noise filled the air: shouting merchants, clashing bargains, and the faint hum of spirit power lingering everywhere.
My eyes were quickly drawn to the markets.
Stalls lined both sides of the road, displaying spirit beast materials of every kind—fangs as long as daggers, dark iron-like scales, feathers glowing faintly with spiritual energy. Some items even radiated a pressure that made my chest feel tight.
"These are at least ten-year spirit beast materials…"
I swallowed.
Then I saw them.
A man stood near one stall, arms crossed behind his back. Around him floated a faint yellow halo—a spirit ring.
A hundred-year spirit ring.
The moment it appeared, the surrounding crowd instinctively gave him space.
"Spirit Master…" I whispered.
The shopkeeper bowed slightly, his tone turning respectful. "Respected Spirit Master, please take a look. This comes from a hundred-year Ironback Wolf."
The man didn't even bargain. He simply nodded.
A servant behind him quickly stepped forward and paid.
I froze for a moment.
So this is status…
Further ahead, another figure caught my attention. This one had two spirit rings—both yellow, quietly circling his body. His presence felt heavier, making it harder to breathe when he passed.
"Great Spirit Master…" Uncle Xu said softly, noticing my gaze.
I looked at him in shock.
"In this city," he continued, "rank decides everything. Spirit Masters with one ring are respected. With two rings, they already stand above most common people."
We kept walking.
I began to notice the pattern everywhere.
Those without spirit power argued, begged, and calculated every coin.
Those with spirit rings… didn't need to.
Some didn't even speak—just a glance was enough for others to step aside.
I clenched my fists.
The difference between people here wasn't hidden—it was absolute.
"How much… must one cultivate to reach that level…" I murmured.
Uncle Xu's expression turned serious.
"If you want to stand among them," he said, "you must focus on your cultivation from the moment you enter the academy."
"Spirit power is your foundation. Meditation is your path."
His voice lowered slightly.
"Without spirit power, you will always be at the bottom."
We passed by a luxurious stall, where a richly dressed noble was scolding a thin shopkeeper.
"Do you think trash like this is worth ten gold soul coins?"
The shopkeeper bowed repeatedly, his voice trembling. "My lord, this comes from a hundred-year spirit beast…"
"Then find someone else stupid enough to buy it!"
The noble kicked the stall, scattering materials across the ground.
No one dared to interfere.
I felt anger rising in my chest.
Uncle Xu slowed down slightly.
"This is the other rule of the world," he said quietly. "Power brings privilege… and abuse."
I looked at him. "Then what should I do?"
He stopped walking.
Ahead of us, the academy gates had come into view.
Tall. Massive. Silent.
At the top, engraved in bold characters, were the words:
Spirit Master Academy
A faint spiritual pressure seemed to radiate from within—as if the place itself demanded respect.
Uncle Xu turned to me.
"You must learn to endure," he said.
His gaze sharpened.
"But more importantly… you must grow stronger."
His voice became firm, carrying a weight I had never heard before.
"One day, when you have your own spirit rings… when you have your own power…"
He paused.
"Do not become like them."
My heart trembled.
"And when the time comes," he added quietly, "don't kneel to anyone who doesn't deserve it."
I looked back at the bustling market one last time.
The strong stood above.
The weak lowered their heads.
But ahead of me…
Was the academy.
The place where everything could change.
I took a deep breath and stepped forward.