Chapter 10: A Profound Realization

In the ancient days of cultivation, as the first practitioners delved into the realm of Qi, a profound realization dawned upon them—they were but frail and insignificant compared to the limitless potential that lay ahead. Thus began the tales of cultivators defying common sense, embarking on a journey to transcend their limitations, grow stronger, and break free from the constraints of mortal existence. This quest led them to ascend to a higher plane, where they discovered a world brimming with abundant Qi and other mystical energies.

In this celestial realm, they encountered beings of awe-inspiring power and grandeur, distant and aloof in their majestic presence. The cultivators soon grasped that the strength they had once admired was nothing compared to the might wielded by these enigmatic entities.

Among the races dwelling in the celestial realm, none were more formidable than the Dragons, and at the pinnacle of the Dragon clans stood the revered and feared Balaur Clan.

Renowned for producing unparalleled geniuses, the Balaur Clan commanded fear and respect throughout the celestial realm and the lower realms. A tale whispered of a divine figure associated with the clan, an entity of boundless power and wisdom revered as a legend. Whether the Divine Being was real or merely myth remained shrouded in mystery, but one fact was undeniable—the Balaur Clan reigned supreme, and none dared challenge their authority.

The Balaur Clan was led by the formidable King and Queen Balaur, figures of awe-inspiring majesty and wisdom. Their presence demanded reverence and loyalty from all who encountered them. Under their rule, the Balaur Clan maintained unrivaled dominance, securing their position as the unrivaled power in the celestial realm.

Amidst the vast cosmos, where power and mystery converged, the saga of the Balaur Clan continued—a tale of strength, legends, and the allure of the divine. As cultivators explored the higher realm, they encountered wonders beyond imagination, as well as the incomprehensible might of beings rivaling even the gods of the Divine Realm. At the heart of it all, the Balaur Clan stood as a beacon of power—a force to be both respected and, if necessary, reckoned with.

Their legacy persisted, leaving an indelible mark on the celestial realm's history and shaping the destiny of those who dared to tread in their formidable wake.

soon it was heard in the whispers, that the celestial dragon couple bore a daughter and a son, but it was unknown whether it was true or not.

"Are you insinuating that I'm their son?" Sam's playful smile hid the whirlwind of emotions inside him. The revelation felt like a fantasy come true.

"Oh my god, are my parents the Dragon Queen and Dragon King? This is not exactly what I've wanted! My life is like a fucking novel now. I just want to cry."

Externally, laughter filled the air as he chuckled at the humorous notion, but inside, his heart felt heavy with a mix of joy and sorrow.

"I'm not suggesting anything," the elder calmly replied, taking a sip of his tea. "Because I know it."

At once, Sam's laughter ceased, and he turned his gaze towards the elder, attempting to appear nonchalant despite his racing thoughts. Deep within, he grappled with the overwhelming revelation. The weight of such heritage was both thrilling and daunting, igniting a desire for answers and a yearning to understand the depths of his lineage. As the truth unraveled, he found himself at the center of a destiny beyond his wildest imaginings, and the path ahead was shrouded in both mystery and immense potential.

"Anyway, kid, what brings you to the Blood Moon Mercenary Guild?" the elder inquired, shifting the conversation.

"I want to earn some money," Sam replied nonchalantly.

"Money?" The elder raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement in his voice. "Why would a cultivator from the strongest family of the mightiest realm need money when he can have the world?" His grin seemed to taunt Sam, testing the young man's resolve.

Sam found himself torn between laughter and frustration at the elder's jest.

"I'm sorry to disappoint you, but I'm not who you think I am," Sam replied with a stoic expression, masking the complexity of his true identity.

"Really?" The elder shook his head, appearing to grow tired of the exchange. "Fine, kid, but remember, just because you refuse to accept it doesn't make it unreal."

Feeling a sense of mystery surrounding Sam, the elder decided to delve deeper. "Why do you need money?" he asked.

Sam responded with a candid honesty befitting his mature demeanor, "I need money to secure a place to rest, to take care of my basic needs, and to have a decent meal."

His words held a simple yet profound truth – even a powerful cultivator had mundane needs that required financial means.

"Mm..."

"You need a place to spend the nights, right?" the elder inquired, his voice carrying a sense of understanding.

Sam nodded solemnly. "Yes."

"I will provide you with shelter and employment, although I can't help but feel it's a waste of your potential," the elder said, studying Sam with a thoughtful gaze.

Perplexed by the elder's comment, Sam asked, "What do you mean, a waste?"

"You are a cultivator, and I can see that you possess great talent," the elder explained. "If you were to join a prestigious sect, everything you desire would be within your reach as long as you cultivate diligently. Cultivators don't rely on mundane necessities like food, unless, of course, you wish to indulge in it for the sake of pleasure," he added, stroking his beard contemplatively.

Sam couldn't help but consider the elder's words carefully. The allure of joining a sect and unlocking his full potential was enticing, but at the same time, he weighed the value of the simpler life the elder was offering him.

He had no desire to be entangled in the convoluted plot twists and turns often depicted in cultivation novels. The idea of subjecting himself to suffering for the sake of relationships he might form if he joined the sects was not appealing to him. He refused to rely on the trope of powering up through friendship, finding it contrived and unrealistic.

His voice brimmed with unwavering confidence as he declared, "I don't think I'll need a sect to teach me anything."

The elder nodded his head in understanding.

"By the way, if you don't mind me asking, why are you helping me?" Sam inquired, curiosity evident in his voice.

The elder replied firmly, "I'm not helping you, young one. I am merely repaying an old debt."

...

[Author's Note: Thank you for taking the time to read this chapter. I would appreciate it if you could donate some Power Stone. Please share your thoughts in the comments section.]