The Quantum Path to Immortality-Chapter 218 - 217: Father’s Backstory and The Ironwood Forge

Heading to the Weapon District

The sun was barely up when Kai and his dad left the house.

Mom had packed them some steamed buns for breakfast. "Don't let him get anything too dangerous," she'd said, giving Dad a look.

Dad had just sighed. "He comprehended Sword Intent in one day. I think the danger ship has sailed."

Now they walked through Redwood City's morning streets, joining the early crowd of merchants, cultivators, and workers starting their day.

Kai munched on a steamed bun, looking around with interest. He'd lived here his whole life (all five years of it), but his newly expanded spiritual sense made him notice things he'd never paid attention to before.

The weapon district was in the eastern part of the city, near the walls. Made sense—if a weapon shop exploded or caught fire, better it happened away from the residential areas.

They passed a tea shop where old men were already arguing about politics. A bakery where the owner was pulling fresh bread from the oven, the smell making Kai's mouth water despite just eating. A small shrine to the City God, where an elderly woman was lighting incense.

Normal city life. Peaceful. Safe.

Dad walked with his hands in his pockets, nodding at people he knew. "Morning, Merchant Aldric." "Hello, Baker Thomas." "Good day, Elder Marcus."

After a few minutes of walking, Dad spoke up.

"Kai, I want to tell you something. About my past."

Kai looked up at him, curious. Dad didn't talk about his past much.

"Before I became a merchant," Dad continued, "I was an adventurer."

"Really?" Kai's eyes went wide. "Like, fighting monsters and finding treasure?"

Dad chuckled. "Something like that. Though it was less exciting than the stories make it sound. Mostly it was walking through forests, getting bit by bugs, and eating terrible food."

"But you fought spirit beasts?"

"I did. Tier 1 beasts, mostly. I wasn't very talented at cultivation—only managed to reach Fracture Body Realm, 4th stage, after years of training. But I was good with a sword, and I had reliable friends."

They turned onto a wider street. The buildings here were sturdier, built from stone instead of wood. Weapon shops, armor stores, cultivation supply vendors.

"What did you do as an adventurer?" Kai asked.

"We hunted spirit beasts in the wilderness. Sold the cores and materials to merchants in the city. There were five of us—me, your Uncle William, Big Sister Helena, Old Man Derek, and Young Marcus." Dad smiled at the memory. "We weren't the strongest group, but we worked well together. Made good money too. More in a month than I make in a year now."

"So why'd you stop?"

Dad's expression softened. "I met your mother."

They passed a shop selling spirit beast materials—preserved claws, bottled blood, processed organs. The smell was awful. Kai wrinkled his nose.

"Your mother was working at her family's restaurant," Dad said. "Best food in the city. I used to go there after every successful hunt. She'd always give me extra portions." He laughed. "Took me three months to realize she only did that for me."

"Mom liked you?"

"Apparently. Though she also thought I was an idiot for risking my life in the wilderness every week." Dad's voice got quieter. "After we got married, she asked me to retire. Said she didn't want to worry every day about whether I'd come home."

"But you made lots of money hunting," Kai said.

"I did. But money isn't worth much if you're not alive to spend it. And your mother..." Dad smiled. "Your mother was more important than any amount of gold."

They stopped at a corner, waiting for a merchant cart to pass.

"So I retired," Dad continued. "Sold my equipment, said goodbye to my adventuring friends. Used my savings to start a merchant business—buying goods in one city, selling them in another. I have a small network now. Five cities total. The money isn't as much as adventuring, but it's steady. Safe. And I get to come home every night."

The cart passed. They crossed the street.

"Is it enough?" Kai asked. "The money?"

"More than enough. We have a good house, food on the table, money saved for emergencies. Taylor will be tested in three years, and we'll be able to afford the academy if she has talent. And you..." Dad ruffled Kai's hair. "Well, you'll probably end up in some fancy sect with how talented you are."

Kai thought about that. His family wasn't rich, but they weren't poor either. Comfortable. Content.

"Do you miss it?" Kai asked. "Being an adventurer?"

Dad was quiet for a moment. "Sometimes. When I hear stories from the guards about spirit beast attacks, or see young adventurers heading into the wilderness... there's a part of me that wants to go with them." He squeezed Kai's shoulder. "But then I come home and see your mother's smile, hear Taylor laughing, watch you practice in the yard... and I know I made the right choice."

They turned onto Forge Street. Weapon shops lined both sides—everything from cheap iron swords to expensive spiritual weapons glowing with enchantments.

"Why are you telling me this?" Kai asked.

Dad stopped walking and knelt down to Kai's eye level.

"Because you're going to have choices to make, son. Talent like yours... sects will want you. They'll offer you power, resources, training. And that's good! I want you to have every opportunity." He put his hands on Kai's shoulders. "But I also want you to remember that power isn't everything. Family matters. Safety matters. Coming home matters."

Kai nodded seriously.

"I'm not saying don't pursue cultivation," Dad continued. "I'm saying... be smart about it. Don't take stupid risks just because you're talented. Don't let ambition make you forget what's important."

"I won't," Kai promised.

"Good." Dad stood up. "Now let's get you that sword before your mother changes her mind and decides five-year-olds definitely shouldn't have real weapons."

Then they turned to a street.

The shop stood at the end of Forge Street, smaller than its neighbors but well-maintained.

A wooden sign hung above the door: IRONWOOD FORGE - Master Hong, Proprietor

Smoke rose from the chimney. The sound of hammer on metal rang out from inside—someone was working.

Dad pushed open the door.

The inside was hot. Really hot. A forge burned in the back corner, glowing orange-red. Tools hung on the walls—hammers, tongs, files, grindstones. Weapons in various states of completion lay on workbenches.

And everywhere—everywhere—there were various types of weapons, swords, axe, sabers etc.

Hanging on racks. Leaning against walls. Displayed in cases. Training swords, combat swords, ceremonial swords. Iron, steel, and a few that glowed faintly with spiritual energy.

A man stood at the forge, hammering a blade. He was broad-shouldered and muscular, with arms like tree trunks and a bald head that gleamed with sweat. His cultivation aura was visible even to Kai's untrained eye—Fracture Body Realm, probably 6th or 7th stage.

Master Hong.

He looked up when they entered, setting down his hammer.

"Vont Ray!" His voice was deep and rough, like gravel. "Haven't seen you in years! Still alive, I see!"

Dad grinned. "Still alive. Business is good?"

"Good enough. What brings you here? Need a new sword? That old blade of yours must be rusty by now."

"Not for me. For my son." Dad put his hand on Kai's shoulder.

Hong looked down at Kai. His eyes went wide.

"Your son?" Hong walked closer, peering at Kai like he was examining a strange artifact. "Ray, your boy is... what, four? Five?"

"Five," Kai said.

"Five-year-olds don't need swords, i have plenty of wooden swords if you like." Hong said automatically.

"That's what I said," Dad muttered.

"I need a real one," Kai spoke up. "Metal."

Hong raised an eyebrow. He looked at Dad. "Is he serious?"

"Very serious. And very talented." Dad's voice carried a note of pride mixed with worry. "He's been practicing intensely and already broke several wooden practice swords."

"Broke them practicing?" Hong asked.

"They weren't strong enough," Kai said simply.

Hong's eyes narrowed with interest. "Show me one."

Kai pulled out the broken wooden practice sword he'd brought along—the one from yesterday morning's tree cutting.

Hong took it, examining the fine cracks spider-webbing through the wood. He ran his finger along one of the cracks, then held it up to the light. His expression changed.

"This wasn't broken by impact," he said slowly. "These fractures... they run along the grain in a very specific pattern. Like something flowed through the wood and the wood couldn't handle the pressure."

He looked at Kai carefully. "Boy, have you awakened to energy cultivation yet?"

"No sir," Kai said honestly. "I'm too young for formal testing. That's five years away."

Hong frowned, turning the sword over in his hands. "Then this shouldn't be possible. You can't channel energy through a weapon without an awakened cultivation base."

He went quiet for a moment, studying the fracture patterns closely.

Unless...

His eyes widened slightly. There was only one other explanation for this kind of damage pattern.

Intent.

But that was impossible. A five-year-old couldn't comprehend Intent. It took decades of sword study, years of combat experience, deep philosophical understanding of the blade's nature...

Hong looked at Kai's innocent face, then at the father who stood protectively beside him.

A five-year-old with Intent comprehension. Unheard of. Unprecedented. If word got out...

He understood immediately why Ray had brought his son here quietly, early in the morning, before the shop got busy. Why Ray looked worried despite his pride.

This kind of talent attracted very dangerous attention.

Hong set down the broken sword carefully and gave Ray a long, serious look.

Ray met his eyes steadily. A silent understanding passed between the two former adventurers.

Hong sighed heavily. "Well. If the boy is breaking practice swords just from... enthusiastic training... then he needs something more durable." He walked to a rack of iron training swords. "These should hold up better."

The conversation moved on as if the moment of realization hadn't happened. But Kai noticed the way Hong's eyes lingered on him occasionally, thoughtful and calculating.

Hong pulled out several swords, laying them on the workbench.

Kai approached them, looking them over. He picked up the first one—a simple straight blade, basic but well-made.

Too heavy. The balance felt wrong in his hand. The metal was good, but... it didn't feel right.

He set it down and tried the second one.

Too light. Too thin. It would bend under serious use.

The third one.

Better balance, but still wrong. The grip was too large for his small hands.

Fourth one.

The weight was okay, but the blade felt... dead. Like it had no potential. Just a chunk of shaped metal.

Hong watched him test each sword with growing interest. "You have good instincts for someone so young."

"They're all wrong," Kai said, setting down the fourth sword.

"Wrong how?"

"They don't... feel right. The balance is off, or the metal is too weak, or..." Kai struggled to find words. "They're just tools. Not partners."

Hong's eyebrows shot up slightly. Partners. The boy thinks like a true swordsman already.

As Kai reached for the fifth sword, he felt something.

A pull.

Faint. Distant. But definitely there.

Like a whisper at the edge of hearing.