Windholt City

"Daddy, where did your experience at fighting come from? You fought the Amarok wolves with almost no cultivation base! That's amazing!" Fiona praised whilst sharpening her dagger.

"Daddy has fought a few baddies before, in our world." Well, your daddy was a baddie, Fiona. You can't go in the underworld of society without knowing how to fight and kill… those times were rough. The mafia, drug deals, and loan sharking… I barely made it out of there alive, after I defected for a change of pace in life.

I stared back at Fiona, who was still scraping her dagger against a rock. 'The world seems just as ruthless… a seven-year-old sharpening her weapons seems like an everyday occurrence.'

As someone who's stained with blood, I do not want Fiona to go through what I did. Whilst her biological father died, she hadn't tried to look for revenge, as I did. Her innocence… Do I have to pick up the life of a villain to protect it? Murder and crime for Fiona?

Killing is a natural thing for me. I was 12 years old when the owner of the orphanage I lived in tried to rape a girl, around the same age as Fiona. He'd given me that same, disgusting feeling in the stomach that my father had. The vulgar smile on his face and his arms raised, like a tiger getting ready to pounce on prey… the shaking little girl… it was the same. Monotone memories flashed before my eyes, and something took over. It wasn't rage or panic. Just tranquility, within my mind.

It was eerily calm.

That rainy night, a bolt of thunder flashed. I picked up a fruit knife and from behind, slit his throat. The action was smooth, with no hesitation, like I'd been practicing for years. Well, in a manner, I suppose so. I longed to do that… but never carried it out. The girl's whimpers turned to loud wails at the shabby old house.

I remember the look in her eyes as she stared at me, my arm dripping with blood.

I remember just standing there, with a dead-pan expression on my face, as the roof leaked water.

I remember how she was trembling, her body curled up, choking on her words. "M- mm- mon- monster," she'd mumbled, her voice slurred. Would Fiona think the same?

"Fiona…" I paused, reluctant, wary in my voice. "Do you think I'm a monster because of that?"

If… if both of them, the people whom I protect think so… then, then am I one?

The metallic scraping sound disappeared. I lowered my head, avoiding Fiona's eyes.

"Killing is wrong. But some people deserved to be killed. You aren't a monster, daddy. Monsters kill and harm people for fun."

"But… but what if you kill someone, and it hurts someone else without you knowing it….?"

'Like you and your father…' I added silently.

"Death is never fair towards anyone. Daddy… are you all right? Could it be that you're afraid here, because of all the killings here?"

I raised my head, only to see Fiona standing up with her dagger raised in the air. "No worries! Fiona will protect daddy!" Her voice dropped a few tones. "I will kill if I have to."

Ah. It was this, her confidence shackled by dread that drew me to her, that gave birth to my feelings of protectiveness. She reminds me too much of my past self, one that I hated. Loathed. Detested. I've long decided that no one that I love, that I care for shall go through what I experienced.

Fiona, you silly girl. Never kill to protect me. Only I, as your adoptive father, will get to. I don't care if I turn into a monster or not, but you can't change. Just be yourself, your innocent self, cause you're all that matters.

__________

"Fiona, what are we running away from? You said the tiger was just as weak as a cat, but it looks scary enough already!"

"We run till the river first, then I'll tell you! Um… okay, there! Behind the rocks!"

"So," I turned to her. "What was that?"

"Something very scary. Really scary. We can't ever beat that thing… it's… also undefeatable in this forest..."

"What is it?"

"A bug."

"A bug? How big? Is it like a bee?"

"No, even smaller." Fiona shuddered, then said with distress, "It's so small, like a strand of hair on your arm. It sucks your blood out, leaving a burning sensation on your skin. Then, it releases some poison, in place of the blood it sucked. The scary thing is that the poison it injects is different every time! Doctors can't identify the poison, then alchemists don't know what pill to refine, so there's no cure nor treatment. We can't let that thing near us! It's.. it's a killing machine!"

"..."

"Have you guys ever heard of mosquito repellant?"

"What kind of treasure is that? An artifact?"

"..."

"Listen Fiona, we call those bugs 'mosquitos'. While they inject you with poisons when they suck your blood, they die easily. Anyone can slap them, and they will die".

"Mosquitoes? That's what daddy calls them? Mommy calls them 'itchy lil bitchies', and doctors call them 'THE BUG.' No, daddy, we tried slapping them. One Saint Profound cultivator, who was about to breakthrough into the Profound God realm, suddenly had his body explode with blood and scars. Then, the mosquito bug came near his body, and he tried slapping it."

'Something dumb will happen, I'm calling it.'

"What happened after?"

"He slapped the bug and then started moaning from pain. Then, a bright light shone from the cultivator's body, and he died soon after. Doctors said that the mosquito bug can make your body burst with blood. This is one of its hunting strategies, as then it can attract you to try hitting it, but it's invulnerable! Even a Saint Profound cultivator, one of the strongest beings in the continent, couldn't hit it!"

Fiona dropped her voice, and said shakily, "then finally, with its prey paralyzed from pain, it can burrow into your body, causing an explosion, and a sure death!"

"..."

It sounds like the Idiot Saint cultivator was in a breakthrough, got distracted by the mosquito, and in return, got backlash damage and finally lost control of the energy, causing an explosion in his body, killing him. That's what I'm thinking, if cultivation here is any similar to the novels I've read.

My theory on the Idiot Saint and explanation on the traits of a mosquito dumbfounded Fiona.

"Is it harmless? How come mommy gets so angry? Was that cultivator really an idiot, like the doctors?" She muttered under her breath, still thinking about it.

Seeing Fiona pondering like the sky just fell, I urged her to leave for the city. "Come on, Fiona. It's getting dark. We should head to the city now. You said it just out of the forest? Else, we will have to sleep in the forest, with the bugs around…."

That woke her up. "Okay, let us run as fast as we can to the city!"

My first day in this world, and most of it has been running… maybe the city will bring some spice?

___________

Wow. That was the first thing that came to mind looking at the city under a mountain. The sun had set and brought forth a red blemish in the sky. An enormous wall circled the perimeter, as I could see other cultivators flying on swords, and riding aerial beasts in the sky. Hm, see that bird? It looks like some griffin? How cool!

They all hopped down from the sky and lined up to queue in front of the gate. Behind, I could see people of various ages, around the streets shopping, it seems like.

So lively at this hour?

Hmm, and what a strong layer of spiritual essence that's surrounding the city!

"Where does that barrier of spiritual essence come from, Fiona?"

"Oh that? It's an array formation set up by the governor of the city."

"Tell me more."

"Mhm. This is Windholt City, named after the Windholt mountain, famous for its high winds. It's also known for its high population, but is the weakest in the of rankings."

"The cities have rankings, in terms of strength, I suppose?" I asked Fiona. In my world, there're no rankings. People judge cities by their quality of life and economics, and other criteria, while here, strength is everything,

"Yes! The number of cultivators and their cultivation base that live in the city determine the rankings."

We have now reached the front of the gate.