Chapter 2 - Revive and Salvation

The clinic's door swung shut behind Asher, and he was greeted by the sight of Mist Haven at night, vibrant and illuminated. Flames from the town's fire raged so high they were visible even from this distance.

Sitting on a bench just outside, the old man beckoned Asher with a kind smile. "Come here, boy."

Asher approached and took a seat, leaving a respectful distance between them. The old man extended a cup of tea to him.

Concern etched across his face, Asher inquired, "How is Henry?"

The old man's calm reply reassured him, "He might feel weak due to blood loss, but you arrived just in time; he would have perished otherwise."

Asher sighed with relief, "Thank goodness."

The old man leaned in, intrigued to learn more about Asher. "So, you hail from Mist Haven. Tell me about yourself."

With a hint of melancholy, Asher opened up, "I'm Asher Blackwood. I have no family left; Henry is my sole family and friend."

The old man nodded and replied with empathy, "It's nice to meet you, boy."

Asher expressed his gratitude, reflecting on the old man's past, "Thank you. The nurse told me about your history. It's truly saddening."

Sorrow touched the old man's eyes as he shared his wisdom, "Well, my boy, the past is but a memory. You can't change it. However, you can learn from it. So, don't dwell on the past, and don't fret too much about the future. Enjoy the moment you're living in."

Asher acknowledged the wisdom, "Thank you, sir. That's valuable advice."

With a friendly tone, the old man encouraged Asher, "Now, go and see Henry. He's waiting for you."

As Asher entered Henry's room, relief washed over him upon seeing Henry alive and awake.

Sitting beside Henry's bed, Asher inquired with concern, "How are you feeling, Henry?"

Henry's response was reassuring, "I'm getting better."

Asher persisted, "Are you sure?"

Henry's affirmation brought a smile to Asher's face, "Well, that's a relief if you're feeling good."

Suddenly, Henry remembered a debt of gratitude he needed to express, "Wait, Asher, there's something I need to say."

Curious, Asher asked, "What is it?"

Henry spoke earnestly, "Thank you, for saving my life."

Asher's warm smile conveyed his appreciation, "You're welcome." He left the room, heading to the old man's chamber. Politely, he knocked and, finding the door open, requested a moment of the old man's time.

"May I come in, Sir?"

The old man chuckled, "Yeah, sure. It's your house; you don't need permission."

"Thank you. I came to ask if we could stay here for a while until Henry recovers."

The old man responded with a curious look, "I already told you that you can stay as long as you want."

Asher expressed his gratitude, "Thank you."

The old man had something important to share, "I have something to tell you."

Asher inquired, "Yes, what is it, sir?"

With a friendly demeanor, the old man requested, "First, stop calling me 'sir.' You can call me Yuan, Doctor, or anything else you like, but not 'sir.'"

Asher pondered for a moment before agreeing, "Okay, from now on, I'll call you Doctor."

"Great," the old man smiled. "Now, about the disaster in Mist Haven."

Asher was intrigued, "Yes, what is it?"

The old man's revelation was startling, "We can say it wasn't a natural disaster. Devils caused it, and I'm quite certain they were from Neverland."

Asher's disbelief was evident, "Do you believe in Neverland too, Doctor?"

The old man affirmed, "Yes, it's not a mere legend; they do exist."

Asher's anger flared, his desire for vengeance ignited, "If it was the devils from Neverland, then I'll avenge my town, the people they killed, and Henry."

The old man, however, cautioned Asher, "In your current state, seeking revenge without awakening your magic would take a hundred years."

"Magic?" Asher's confusion showed. "Why does everything feel like a fairy tale?"

The old man chose to show rather than tell. "Let me demonstrate." His hand emerged from his pocket, and as he closed his eyes, it began to glow with a green light. A palpable energy emanated from his hand, capturing Asher's awe-struck attention.

The old man explained the source of his magic, "My magic is healing magic, though it's quite limited. Every person possesses their unique magic level. I have relatively little magical power, but it remains useful."

Asher, brimming with enthusiasm, expressed his admiration, "That's amazing! How can I awaken mine?"

The old man shared his wisdom, "Awakening magic isn't simple. It requires intense training and can be achieved through two methods."

"First," the old man began, "you must attune yourself to your body to break the magic seal. This demands daily meditation and hours of practice."

"Second," he continued, "magic can awaken through profound shock, great pain, and an intense desire to accomplish something."

Asher grasped the rarity of magic awakening, "So, not everyone can do it?"

The old man confirmed, "Indeed, only a few chosen individuals can awaken their magic."

Asher's determination shone, "Will you train me, Doctor, so I can awaken my magic and seek revenge for my village, my friend, and the only thing left to me from my father—my house?"

The old man, with a knowing smile, agreed, "I will, my boy. But it depends on your effort and dedication."

Asher's response was resolute, "I'll do whatever it takes to awaken my magic."

The old man chuckled approvingly, "That's the spirit, my boy. I'll see you at 6 am. Can you rise that early?"

Asher affirmed with a broad smile, "Yes, I can, and I will."

The old man summoned the nurse to guide Asher to his room. She led him to his new quarters and, as she prepared to leave, murmured, "If you need anything, sir, please let me know."

Asher thanked her warmly, "Okay, and thank you for your help."

With her departure, Asher found himself in his new room. Early morning light filtered through the curtains, painting a gentle glow across the cozy space. A window beckoned, and as Asher opened it, a refreshing breeze infused with the fragrance of blooming flowers welcomed him.

Outside, a majestic tree stood adorned with countless fireflies, its branches transformed into a mesmerizing constellation of lights. It seemed as if the tree itself pulsed with magic, extending a welcoming embrace to Asher in his new abode.

With the day's adventures still fresh in his mind, Asher settled onto his comfortable

bed, its embrace soothing his weary body. He felt both anxious about the journey ahead and exhilarated by the prospect of discovering his dormant powers.

Lost in thought, he eventually succumbed to sleep, the day's events leaving him utterly exhausted.

The following morning, Asher awoke before dawn, the gentle hues of a rising sun casting a soft glow upon the room. After freshening up, he ventured outside, where the old man had already begun his meditation in the courtyard.

"Good morning, Doctor."

"Good morning, Asher."

"First, we need to focus on building your physical strength," the old man explained. "This week, I will teach you martial arts, swordsmanship, and combat skills. Are you ready?"

"I'm ready, Doctor. Let's do it."

The old man added, "Now, as I am teaching you, consider me your master or sensei, alright?"

"Alright," Asher agreed, enthusiasm evident in his voice.

The old man laid out the daily schedule:

1. Run 5 kilometers every day.

2. Perform 50 push-ups.

3. Complete 50 chin-ups.

4. Spar together.

Taken aback by the rigorous routine, Asher thought to himself, "I think I'm going to die."

The old man led Asher to a nearby track, setting the pace with confident strides. Asher struggled to keep up, gasping for breath within the first few hundred meters.

Sensing Asher's fatigue, the old man offered firm but encouraging words: "With this determination, you'll seek revenge on the devils. Get up and start running. No one will come to save you on the battlefield."

Motivated by his mentor's words, Asher pushed through the fatigue and resumed running. Though his legs felt like lead, he gritted his teeth and managed to complete another kilometer and a half.

"Okay, that's enough for today."

Asher sighed with relief at the prospect of respite...

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