The night passed in peaceful silence over the crumbling mansion of Fittora. High above, the stars slowly shifted across the vast sky like scattered diamonds, painting a breathtaking scenery that felt almost divine. A brilliant silver moon hung low, its gentle light bathing the barren wasteland in a soft, ethereal glow. For a fleeting moment, the cracked earth and withered shrubs looked strangely beautiful — quiet, untouched, and brimming with hidden possibilities.
Lion slept deeply, his mid-level Elementary Profound Realm body quietly preparing for the harsh road ahead.
The next morning, soft dawn light filtered through the broken windows. Lion woke refreshed and joined Elias, Garrick, and Lira for a simple breakfast in the main hall. The meal was meager — thin porridge made from coarse grain, a few strips of dried meat, and plain water. They ate in comfortable silence, no one speaking a word.
Yet as Lion shared the humble food with the three loyal subordinates, something deep inside him stirred. The substandard meal tasted surprisingly good — warm, honest, and strangely comforting. It had been years since he last felt this way. Not since his mother's death, and not since his sister Elara had grown cold and distant toward him. For the first time in a long while, sitting together like this brought him a quiet, almost forgotten sense of warmth and belonging.
After the bowls were emptied, Elias finally spoke.
"My lord, preparations are complete. We have saddled the strongest horse we could find. There is nearly a week's worth of dry rations — that is all the food we could gather from the villages. I have also prepared a rough map of the empire and surrounding regions."
Lion simply nodded, his expression calm. He finished the last of his water, then stood up. His dark eyes swept over Elias, Garrick, and Lira with steady intensity.
"I will definitely return," he said, his voice low but ringing with unshakable resolve. "And when I come back, I will bring a better future for every single one of us. This wasteland will bloom with life. Our people will no longer starve or live in fear. Trust in me… and I swear I will not fail you."
His words landed heavy and powerful, carrying the weight of a sacred vow.
Garrick and Lira both nodded with bright, hopeful eyes. They clearly didn't fully understand the dangers of the Tortoise Wetlands — their faces showed only excitement and pure faith in their new lord. But in Elias's wise eyes, Lion saw the truth. The older man knew exactly what kind of deadly gamble Lion was about to take. A flicker of deep concern passed across the advisor's face, though he remained silent out of respect.
Without wasting another moment, Lion took the map and mounted the sturdy brown horse. He inspected the faded lines one last time, then urged the horse forward. His destination was clear — the Tortoise Wetlands.
The first day passed steadily. By afternoon, Lion crossed into the most populated area of Fittora — Red Hollow, which also served as the region's so-called capital. It was a modest settlement of low stone houses clustered around a small central square, with dusty fields struggling to grow anything. Around two hundred villagers paused their work to stare as the young baron rode past. Some whispered in awe, others watched with tired but hopeful eyes. Lion gave them a single firm nod before continuing onward.
The second day brought a brutal change.
After leaving Red Hollow, the land slowly transformed into Dustveil — a vast, lifeless desert of endless golden sand. No grass. No trees. No signs of life whatsoever. The sun blazed down mercilessly, turning the air into a scorching furnace. Towering sand dunes stretched in every direction like frozen waves under a blinding sky. The wind howled constantly, whipping sharp grains of sand into Lion's face and eyes, stinging like tiny needles.
Crossing Dustveil took a heavy, punishing toll.
The horse struggled with every labored step, its flanks heaving and coated in thick sweat. Lion's throat burned with unbearable thirst even though he rationed his water carefully. The heat pressed down like a physical mountain, making rivers of sweat pour down his back and soak his robes until they clung to his skin. His lips cracked and bled. His head throbbed violently. Cruel mirages danced on the horizon — false visions of cool lakes and green fields that only deepened his frustration and exhaustion.
*This damn desert… it's trying to break me before I even reach the wetlands,* Lion thought, gritting his teeth as sand blasted his face raw.
He had always been lazy by nature, preferring the comfort and luxury the royal palace once offered in abundance. Yet when he truly set his mind to something, his determination became almost criminal. He pushed forward without a single complaint, forcing his mid-level Elementary body to endure the punishment. Every agonizing mile only fueled his burning resolve.
*If I can't even survive this worthless sand, how will I ever turn Fittora into a Holy Land? Keep moving. Don't stop. Not even for a second.*
By the end of the second day and deep into the third, Lion finally left the burning desert behind. His clothes were caked in sand, his body aching and exhausted, but his spirit burned hotter than the sun itself.
On the morning of the third day, Lion officially crossed the border into the Tortoise Wetlands.
The atmosphere changed in an instant.
The dry, dead air gave way to thick, humid mist that clung to everything like a living shroud. Tall reeds and glowing moss lined shallow, dark waters. The ground turned soft and marshy, sucking gently at his boots. Ancient, twisted trees rose from the wetlands like silent sentinels, their massive roots twisting above the surface. The air smelled of wet earth, strange exotic flowers, and faint but rich spiritual energy that made Lion's skin tingle with both excitement and danger.
This was one of the four mystical regions — a place where cultivators came to test their destiny.
Lion pulled out the map and studied it carefully as his horse moved slowly through the shallow waters. A small, bitter smile crossed his face.
*This decision was desperate… and not well thought out at all.*
As a former prince, he had more than enough knowledge about the Tortoise Wetlands. It was said to be the ruins of an ancient empire where demihumans and powerful profound beasts once reigned supreme. Opportunities here were endless — miracle herbs that could cure any disease, spiritual fruits that could boost cultivation by leaps and bounds, rare treasures buried in the mist. But death came far too easily.
He was only at mid-level Elementary Profound Realm. The minimum requirement to safely explore even the outer regions was Earth Profound Realm. Going in at his level was almost suicidal.
Yet Lion knew the treasures were real. The stories weren't just hype.
*The opportunities here are genuine,* he thought, eyes gleaming with fierce determination. *A pivotal jump in my life cannot come without enough risk. I have decided to take this gamble — all of it.*
Getting down from the horse, he patted its neck one last time and instructed it to return home. The horse neighed in hesitation. In just two days, it had grown fond of Lion. Under his steady gaze, however, the animal finally turned around and galloped back toward Red Hollow.
The path ahead could only be traversed on foot, and Lion knew it. As for how he would return later… he was far more worried about surviving the wetlands first.
He started venturing deeper into the misty wetlands. The humid air wrapped around him like a living thing. Strange calls echoed from the fog. The spiritual energy grew thicker, promising both fortune and deadly danger.
Lion Chromewell, the discarded prince turned Heavenly Baron, had stepped into the jaws of destiny.
Whatever waited ahead — treasure, beast, or death — he would face it with his criminal determination.
The real gamble had begun.