Adrien stood still for a moment, breathing in the crisp, dew-laden air. The clash of yesterday's sparring session with Selyra and Ilyra still echoed faintly in his muscles, but his mind was elsewhere.
Today was a pivotal day.
He had spent weeks training, fighting, growing. He had studied cultivation theory, practiced stances, battled.
But advancement in the Moonlight Sect wasn't just a matter of time or effort, it required taking advancement exams. And to move from outer disciple to inner disciple, he would have to take on a mission, courtesy of the sect's mission hall.
He strode across the bridge leading to the eastern hall, the Mission Pavilion. Ornate silver lanterns hung from the eaves, casting shifting light upon the runic carvings of past heroes and legendary trials.
Inside, rows of tall jade pillars stretched toward a high, open ceiling where moonlight poured in even during the day, captured by crystal veins embedded in the roof.
Disciples of all ranks walked among the marble floor and notice boards: fresh outer disciples crowding the lower ranks, middle-level ascenders seeking joint tasks, and robed elites with jade tokens clipped to their waists.
The tension in the air was always palpable, danger and opportunity mingled in every posted mission.
Adrien approached the central dais. Behind a semi-circular desk carved from obsidian and lined with faintly glowing glyphs sat an elder in pale violet robes. The Mission Hall overseer. A white beard trailed down his chest, but his eyes were sharp, evaluating Adrien with a flick of his gaze.
"You come for your inner disciple trial, boy?" the elder asked without preamble. Adrien was somewhat of a popular topic amongst the elders by now.
Adrien bowed respectfully. "Yes, Elder."
"Hmph." The elder flicked his wrist. A silver scroll materialized midair, unravelling to reveal several lines of flowing script. "You've been flagged for... exceptional growth. A recent recommendation from Selyra herself, I see." His brow raised. "Interesting."
Adrien said nothing, only bowing again. Inside, however, his pulse quickened. Selyra had said nothing about this.
"Well, don't get too pleased. We don't give cushioned paths here. I am Nyros." Nyros waved his hand again, and the scroll burst into shimmering mist, reforming into a new task: a solitary hunt. "This is your mission. Succeed, and you'll be promoted to inner disciple."
The elder's voice dropped slightly, grave.
"You are to hunt and eliminate a creature known as a Night Wraith, a shadow-class spectral entity that has been reported near the edges of Lunaris City. It's killed two traveling merchants in the last week. Normally, this would be handled by a team or a higher-ranked disciple, but... let's see if you're worthy of that recommendation."
Adrien stared at the parchment now floating before him. His brows furrowed. Night Wraiths were known in the sect archives, phantasmal beings of darkness and despair, immune to physical damage, weak only to concentrated aether energy and dream force.
Their danger scaled with the strength of the target's fear and mental vulnerability.
"I accept," Adrien said after a breath.
Nyros nodded, tapping his desk with a finger. A crescent-shaped mission token appeared in Adrien's hand, pulsing with soft azure light.
"You have three days to return with proof of the kill. That should be more than enough time, if you're alive."
As Adrien turned and walked away, a few other disciples who had heard the old man speak gave him long stares, some curious, others pitying.
Outside the Mission Pavilion, Adrien read over the details again. The location was a patch of ruined farmland south of the city, abandoned years ago after a failed harvest had left it cursed by residual aether energy.
He would have to approach at dusk, Wraiths only manifested under lunar influence.
Selyra's voice echoed in his mind.
"Don't rely on raw strength against spirits. Anchor your mind, clarify your intent, and let your will strike deeper than any blade."
He looked up at the mist-wreathed peaks of the Moonlight Sect, then down the path that would take him out of the safe boundaries.
This was it.
His first true test beyond the walls.
The high gates of the Moonlight Sect stood behind him, slowly closing with a quiet thrum of aether energy.
Adrien walked alone down the misty road, the path ahead winding through pine-draped hills that eventually gave way to cobbled roads and farmland skirting the outer edges of Lunaris City.
Though the mission weighed on his shoulders, Adrien had made a choice.
He would not plunge into battle immediately.
This was the first time he'd been allowed to leave the Moonlight Sect's grounds on his own. And Lunaris City, the famed silver-hearted capital nestled in the embrace of the foot of the mountain, was too legendary to ignore.
The last time he was he, he was unconscious, supposedly, when he appeared at the spatial rift, and a scout found him.
He felt the need to take this opportunity to see how the normal people in this world lived. 'I wonder how the others are doing on earth? Maybe I can find something out while I'm here'.
If he was to understand this world, he needed to see it. To breathe it.
He adjusted the hood of his traveling robe and continued down the road toward the city gates. Twin moonstone obelisks flanked the entrance, shimmering with protective runes that pulsed softly in the late afternoon sun.
A constant trickle of people passed through: merchants, ascenders, beast tamers, scholars, and street performers.
Guards in steel-blue armour stood at attention, their spears inscribed with moon-aligned talismans. They glanced at Adrien, recognized the sect token on his waist, and let him through with a respectful nod.
Then, he was inside.
And Lunaris City opened before him like a dream made real.
Sprawling stone pathways coiled through buildings crafted of dark wood and moon-glass, their roofs curved like rising tides.
Floating lanterns hovered over marketplaces, tethered by nothing but threads of wind and soft spiritual force.
Every few steps, Adrien saw ascenders, some disciples from the Moonlight Sect, others from minor sects, or rogue wanderers with strange, foreign garb.
Vendors shouted their wares with gusto.
"Spirit peaches, ripened under the lunar tide! Guaranteed to ease your next breakthrough!"
"Beast marrow broth! One sip and you'll never feel aether fatigue again!"
A burst of flame caught Adrien's eye, across the square, a young fire cultivator performed tricks for a crowd of laughing children.
He shaped glowing salamanders and flame-wolves from his hands, weaving them into a story while coins tinkled into a copper bowl.
Further down, Adrien passed an alchemy pavilion where golden fumes rolled from chimneys and elderly cultivators debated loudly over pill recipes and medicinal flame temperatures.
One even offered to test his bloodline for a handful of spirit coins.
"I've seen that glimmer before! asura, am I right? Bet you've got a tricky resonance hidden in there!"
Adrien politely declined and moved on.
As evening deepened, he entered the city's heart, Moonveil Square, named after the massive arch that rose into the air like a crescent moon hung low to kiss the earth.
Underneath it sat a stage ringed with silver runes, often used for public duels, sect declarations, or artful performances.
Tonight, a masked troupe danced upon it, their robes shifting like water, their blades moving in harmony with a melancholic flute.
The performance depicted a famous myth: the Waning Heart Queen, who gave her dream core to revive a fallen world.
Adrien stood watching, mesmerized, his thoughts drifting.
There was so much more to ascension than power alone.
There was history, spirit, belief. A living culture formed by the dreams and struggles of thousands.
This world… it was beautiful. Raw. Alive.
The world of ascenders was after all, a world based on visualisations.
He moved away quietly as the crowd applauded.
Eventually, Adrien found a quiet tea shop nestled between two pavilions. He ordered dream leaf brew from the menu and sat by the window, watching the city's lights bloom one by one like fireflies against dusk.
From here, he could see how everything interconnected.
Merchants traded with numerous disciples. Scholars shared meals with smiths. Street performers crossed paths with rogue sword masters, ascenders, crafters and the like.
It was a web of lives, independent yet woven into one.
And the Moonlight Sect, for all its towering grandeur, was just one peak among many.
Adrien sipped his tea slowly.
"To think I was thrown here through a rift… and yet, I belong here now."
He touched the edge of his mission token. Beyond the eastern district, beyond the city's walls, his prey awaited, somewhere in the abandoned farmlands haunted by a shadow.
But for now, for this one night, Adrien Cortez allowed himself to just be.
A wanderer.
A learner.
A speck in a living world far larger than his own past.
...
The scent hit him before the building came into view, roasted beast meat, fresh herbs steeped in butter, and a tang of fine wine that lingered on the air like perfume.
Adrien followed the trail, weaving past a pair of duelling ascenders arguing over saber form, until he stood before a grand two-story structure of moon-wood and pale stone.
Lanterns hung like fireflies from the rafters, their soft blue glow giving the establishment a serene allure. A name was carved elegantly above the archway: The Crescent Table.
He hesitated for only a moment.
The mission could wait.
After days of sparring with Selyra, and the long walk from the sect to the city, and the tea before he deserved a decent meal before finally heading out. Besides, the few gold coins Selyra had slipped into his room—"for your first venture into the city," she had said on a little note, seemed perfect for this occasion.
He stepped through the arch.
The warmth of the interior wrapped around him instantly.
Polished floors reflected chandelier light. Long silk drapes shifted gently with breeze from enchanted fans.
The patrons were a mix of finely dressed merchants, adventurers, and even the occasional low-ranking noble, many seated in booths divided by decorative moonstone screens.
The aroma of charred garlic and wild pepper root danced through the air, and soft string music played from a raised alcove where a half-elf plucked a silver lyre.
Adrien was led to a table near the window by a young waitress in a deep blue dress and silver apron.
She wore a moon-petal tucked behind her ear and gave him a slightly curious look as he sat, clearly noting his travel-worn clothes and sect insignia.
"Would you prefer the set course, or choose à la carte?" she asked, her tone polite but practiced.
Adrien glanced at the menu tablet, its script shifting to match his native tongue as he focused.
"I'll take the set," he said. "Whatever your chef recommends."
Her eyes flickered with surprise, but she nodded. "Very well. Would you like wine?"
"Yes," Adrien said. "Something light."
The first course arrived quickly: a delicate soup made from thunderbird egg and lotus root, laced with jade pepper oil. It was rich, smooth, and spiced just enough to awaken the tongue.
The second was even better, roasted moon stag, marinated in river plum glaze, with cloudberry reduction and spiced yams on the side.
Adrien took his time savouring it. Every bite was a reminder of just how far from Earth he truly was.
Back home, a meal like this would've been unthinkable. half of the ingredients were unique to this place, and so was the taste.
Here, it was the world's heartbeat.
For dessert, a crescent-shaped tart filled with chilled starlight custard, dusted with powdered leaf sugar and accompanied by a final sip of silverberry wine.
By the time he finished, the crescent moon was rising above Lunaris' skyline, casting a gentle glow through the open windows.
The waitress returned with a bow. "Your meal comes to six silver, sir."
Adrien stood slowly, brushing imaginary dust from his robes. He reached into his pouch and retrieved a single gold coin.
Light glinted off its surface, the stamped sigil of the Moonlight Sect clearly visible.
He extended it toward her.
"I don't need change."
The waitress blinked.
Then blinked again.
Her hand hesitated in the air as she accepted the coin, eyes wide, her voice catching. "S-Sir, this is… this is gold. I—are you sure?"
But Adrien was already walking away.
He offered no answer, only a brief nod as he turned and slipped into the night, the sound of his footsteps vanishing beneath the music and murmurs of the restaurant.
The waitress stood frozen, clutching the coin as though afraid it might vanish.
A passing waiter leaned in and whispered with a touch of awe, "Did he just…?"
She nodded slowly. "He did."