Soul Cultivator

The vast, lifeless plains stretched endlessly under a perpetually dim sky. A scrawny child, no older than ten, roamed alone, his profound violet eyes scanning the desolate horizon. He was nameless, unburdened by human connection, yet his mind raced with questions.

'What direction was the mountain?' he pondered. Just hours ago, he'd encountered an old man, a figure of immense presence, who had offered him a name and the promise of martial arts. The child, unfazed, had accepted the offer, a flicker of excitement – a sensation entirely new to him – stirring within his otherwise placid heart.

Now, a disorienting mist swirled around him, obscuring his already limited view. Despite his extraordinary vision, the mist was an insurmountable barrier. After hours of fruitless searching, he found a small, abandoned cave. It offered a rare sense of safety in a world teeming with demons, creatures of overwhelming physical prowess, driven by an insatiable hunger for human flesh. He settled down to sleep, the promise of a new path flickering in his thoughts, unaware of the approaching danger.