But before his mood could sink completely—
the lizard continued calmly.
"Among cultivators."
Lian blinked slightly.
"…Meaning?"
"Among mortals, you are superior."
"Among cultivators, you are pitifully poor."
The boy fell silent.
That… was unexpectedly fair.
The lizard's voice continued.
"Most humans capable of reaching higher realms possess superior roots, bloodlines, physiques, sect inheritance, resources, or fortune."
"You possess none."
Lian's face stiffened slightly again.
"…That's really not how to encourage someone."
"I was not attempting encouragement."
Lian sighed helplessly.
Right.
Of course not.
The two walked on quietly for a while longer.
Then—
unexpectedly—
the lizard spoke again.
"Yet you are more fortunate than most."
Lian blinked.
"…What?"
The calm voice continued.
"You survived."
"The forest should have killed you."
"The beast should have killed you."
"Your talent should have condemned you to mediocrity."
"And yet circumstances continue shifting around you."
Lian became thoughtful.
Fortunate…
Maybe.
Or just lucky.
The invisible lizard's golden eyes remained calm beneath concealment.
The dirt path stretched quietly ahead under the fading afternoon light.
Wind rolled gently through distant fields while birds crossed the pale sky overhead.
Lian continued walking slowly, still processing everything.
Meanwhile—
the white lizard remained outwardly silent.
But inwardly—
his thoughts moved steadily.
Fortunate.
That word lingered in his mind.
The child resembled those figures from human stories.
Weak beginnings.
Poor talent.
Danger.
Coincidences.
Survival against impossible odds.
Then suddenly encountering a mysterious, powerful existence.
The pattern felt familiar.
The lizard had absorbed enough human memories and conversations to recognize it.
A struggling child meeting a hidden expert.
A hidden expert guiding a weak youth toward greatness.
Human stories were filled with such patterns.
The thought lingered.
So what exactly is this?
Is the child supposed to be one of those "protagonists"?
And me—
am I supposed to become the hidden master guiding him?
The idea felt strange.
Almost amusing.
No.
He had no such intention.
Humans overcomplicated everything.
Inheritance.
Teaching.
Master–disciple bonds.
Emotions.
Responsibility.
All of it was unnecessary complication.
The lizard's golden eyes remained calm beneath concealment.
He was only here because of curiosity.
Nothing more.
At first—
it had been the strange tightness in his chest.
Then curiosity about the child.
And now—
simply observation.
That was all.
Eventually—
the fox would awaken.
And when she did—
he would leave.
Simple.
The invisible lizard settled more comfortably atop Lian's head.
Meanwhile—
Lian suddenly spoke again while staring ahead at the distant mountains.
"…You've been really quiet."
"Usually am."
"…Fair."
Lian scratched his cheek awkwardly.
Then, after a brief hesitation—
"…So what do spirit beasts normally do?"
"Survive."
Lian blinked.
"That's it?"
"…That sounds depressing."
Silence followed briefly.
Then the lizard spoke again.
"Humans also survive."
Lian opened his mouth—
then paused.
Because that… was also true.
The boy fell into thought again as they continued down the quiet path.
The village behind them grew quieter, while the outskirts stretched open beneath the fading light.
Lian's footsteps slowed slightly.
His fear had not disappeared.
Not even close.
But somehow—
talking with the creature made it feel less unreal.
Still terrifying.
But less unreal.
After a while—
Lian spoke again carefully.
"…So spirit beasts don't have villages?"
"Families?"
"Some."
"Friends?"
The invisible lizard paused briefly.
Then calmly answered.
"Temporary associations exist."
Lian frowned slightly.
"…That sounds lonely."
The lizard did not respond immediately.
Wind drifted through the grasslands while clouds moved slowly across the sky.
Eventually—
he replied.
"Loneliness is a human concept."
Lian frowned again.
"…No it isn't."
Silence.
Then—
"You feel discomfort when separated from your kind."
"You seek emotional reassurance through companionship."
"You fear abandonment."
"You form bonds to stabilize your thoughts."
The explanation came calmly.
Almost clinical.
Lian stared ahead blankly.
"…Why do you make humans sound so weird?"
"Humans are weird."
Lian almost laughed.
Almost.
Then stopped himself abruptly.
Wait.
Why was he casually talking to a terrifying spirit beast like this?
The situation was absurd.
Meanwhile—
the invisible lizard remained calm.
Observing.
Learning.
Humans truly were strange creatures.
Weak physically.
Emotionally unstable.
Short-lived.
Yet constantly thinking beyond survival.
Dreams.
Relationships.
Ambition.
Meaning.
Even the child beside him—
despite knowing his talent was poor—
still wished to climb upward.
Interesting.
Lian eventually spoke again after several minutes.
"…Then what about you?"
"Hmm?"
"What do you want?"
The question caused a brief silence.
The lizard considered it carefully.
Then answered honestly.
"To continue existing."
Lian blinked.
"…That's it?"
He looked genuinely confused.
"That's… surprisingly simple."
"It is sufficient."
Lian scratched his cheek while thinking.
Humans wanted strength.
Resources.
Longevity.
Status.
Protection.
Revenge.
Love.
Family.
Dreams.
Yet this terrifying creature only wanted to… continue existing.
That felt strangely difficult to understand.
Then again—
perhaps spirit beasts simply thought differently.
The wind strengthened slightly as they reached a hill overlooking the distant forest.
Lian's gaze drifted ahead quietly.
After hesitating—
"…Do you have a home?"
The invisible white lizard remained still for several moments.
Then calmly answered.
"Yes."
Lian brightened slightly.
"Oh."
"Where?"
"A cave."
The brightness immediately faded.
"…Right."
Of course.
A spirit beast cave.
What else had he expected?
The hill stood silent beneath the fading evening sky.
Wind rolled through tall grass while distant trees swayed near the forest line below.
Lian remained still.
Eyes fixed toward the mountains after the invisible force subtly guided his head.
The direction Lizarius indicated—
was near the forest.
Near the valley.
Near danger.
Lian immediately shook his head.
"…There?"
"That's close to the forest."
"I can't go there."
The invisible lizard resting atop his head remained calm.
"The spiritual energy there is significantly denser than in this village."
Lian frowned while staring uneasily toward the distant trees.
"…That's exactly the problem."
"It's dangerous."
"I already promised my mother I wouldn't enter the forest again."
The lizard replied simply.
"You would not need to enter deeply."
"That outer region alone surpasses this place."
Lian still looked conflicted.
The distant mountains suddenly felt heavier.
More dangerous.
More tempting.
The calm voice continued.
"I believed you wished to become stronger at any cost."
Lian laughed awkwardly.
"Yeah, but… not literally at the risk of dying."
The lizard paid little attention to his complaint.
"Without assistance, you would not have sensed spiritual energy."
Lian froze slightly.
Then slowly lowered his gaze.
That was true.
Even after days of effort—
nothing had happened.
Only when the strange spiritual pressure had gathered around him the previous night did he finally succeed.
And now—
he understood.
It had been Lizarius.
Not luck.
Not sudden talent.
Assistance.
The lizard's calm voice continued.
"With your roots, opportunities are essential."
"You cannot cultivate like ordinary cultivators."
"You lack talent."
"You lack inheritance."
"You lack resources."
"Therefore you must compensate elsewhere."
Each word landed heavily.
Not cruel.
Simply factual.
Lian clenched his jaw slightly while staring toward the distant forest.
The lizard continued calmly.
"A place with denser spiritual energy would significantly improve your cultivation speed."
"If you remain here, your progress will remain slow."
Lian stayed silent.
The evening wind brushed softly against his clothes.
His thoughts grew complicated again.
Fear.
Temptation.
Excitement.
Uncertainty.
The village head had already said resources mattered.
Lizarius said the same.
And Lian understood it too.
Even in just a few days—
he already felt how thin the spiritual energy in the village was.
Gathering it was painfully slow.
The invisible lizard finally finished.
"The decision is yours."
Then—
he fell silent completely.
Lian stood motionless on the hill.
The distant forest stretched beneath the darkening sky like a sleeping beast.
Dangerous.
Unknown.
Yet filled with opportunity.
His thoughts drifted toward his mother.
Toward his promise.
Then toward cultivation.
Strength.
And the future he wanted.
The wind continued to move quietly around the lone boy standing beneath the fading light.