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 known the man for a long time now and knew 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, but deep down he knew.