2. The Way of Dream

2 months later

"It's finally done. Now, I can form the Dream Seed." Merin thought, excitement surging within him. "At last, I can see a different scenery." 

He thought of his last moment of death as he felt the same excitement.

But fate had other plans.

As he sprinted through the streets, searching for shelter from the raging thunderstorm, misfortune struck—literally. A bolt of lightning crashed down upon him, and in an instant, his world went dark.

When he regained consciousness, everything felt… different.

He had been reincarnated. But as his luck would have it, he was not a powerful warrior, a noble heir, or even an ordinary human. No, he was now a tree.

Fragments of unfamiliar memories flooded his mind, memories belonging to an ancient artifact—the Dream Mirror. His luck, however, did not completely betray him. The memories were fragmented, preventing him from losing himself entirely within the artifact's vast knowledge. Among the scattered recollections, he stumbled upon something astonishing—a cultivation technique.

For someone who had spent his life in a mundane world without any extraordinary powers, this discovery left him speechless. Growing up in an orphanage, he had spent countless hours reading fantasy, Xianxia, and other novels, dreaming of being reincarnated into a world of magic and cultivation. That wish had finally come true—just at the worst possible moment.

His future had once seemed bright. He had worked tirelessly, and for the first time in his 18 years of life, fate had smiled upon him. He had earned admission to one of the top three universities in his country. He had even gone out to celebrate with his classmates, reveling in the moment.

But his fortune had lasted no more than eight hours.

On his way back to the orphanage, lightning struck—and now, he was here. A tree.

Not an ordinary one, though. He could feel it—his roots had an extraordinary ability. They could absorb energy from the void, allowing him to survive in this barren wasteland.

But even with this miraculous ability, time was running out.

He discovered that a black energy from beneath the ground was slowly invading his roots. He had first noticed it days ago when one of his roots was destroyed. With only eleven roots remaining, he estimated that he had around twenty-two months to live.

To survive, he needed to either grow new roots or strengthen the ones he had. But both required more energy—far more than what he could absorb from the void. The Life-Stealing Land held no energy except for the black force that sought to consume him.

Then, he remembered the cultivation technique he had begun practicing after inheriting the artifact's fragmented memories—the Dream Soul Sutra.

It offered two paths: the Way of Dreams and the Way of the Soul.

At first, he chose the Way of the Soul, reaching the third chapter of the technique. This path allowed him to form a soul clone, which he had intended to use for exploring the land. But when he realized his days were numbered, he turned his attention to the Way of Dreams.

According to the technique, upon reaching the second chapter, one could form a Dream Seed and cast it into the Dream World—a realm shaped by people's imaginations, where countless worlds were born. The Dream Seed would reincarnate into a new life within one of these worlds. If luck was on his side, he could even reincarnate into the real world.

Each time his reincarnated self perished, the Dream Seed would return, merging with him and strengthening his soul. However, the energy gained from a dream life was significantly weaker—only 20% of what real life would provide.

Two weeks ago, he had no choice but to switch methods. Fortunately, he discovered that the first chapter of both paths was 80% identical, making the transition easier. It took him a full day to adapt, and after that, he pushed himself relentlessly—thirteen days without rest.

Though his body was a tree that required no sleep, his spirit was still human. It needed rest. Yet, for thirteen days, he endured.

"Once the Dream Seed is formed and cast into the Dream World to reincarnate, I'll finally take a long sleep."

To gain the maximum energy, the Dream Seed had to survive as long as possible in its reincarnated life. That was his goal.

And since the Dream Seed carried his memories, in essence—it was him.

So, he wasn't worried about the Dream Seed itself—he was worried about his luck. Every time fortune smiled upon him, misfortune inevitably followed. The fact that the first chapter of both cultivation paths was 80% similar had been a stroke of luck.

"Let's form the Dream Seed and see if luck is on my side this time."

He began performing the technique, focusing his will. A sharp sting coursed through him, and then—he saw it.

As a tree, his vision was not like a human's. He could not see shapes or colors, only energy. And in this lifeless wasteland, his surroundings had always been utterly blank.

But now, within his energy vision, something new appeared—a flicker of energy, distinct and unmistakable. The technique stopped running.

He had succeeded.

Controlling the Dream Seed, he activated its energy. In his energy vision, he watched as the seed vanished.

As he watched the Dream Seed disappear, he closed his eyes—eyes he no longer had.

Old habits lingered. Though he was now a tree, sleep only came when he imagined closing his eyes.

And so, Merin slept.

—

In the Dream World, the Dream Seed tumbled into a crack.

A moment later, sound filled his mind—crying and voices speaking an unfamiliar language. Then came a startling realization.

He was the one crying.

He had successfully reincarnated.

Once again, he was a baby, his senses dulled and unfocused. Everything was a blur, his newborn body too weak to process the world around him.

Then, something soft pressed against his lips. Instinct took over before he could think—he latched on and began to suckle.

Warmth. Comfort. The hunger faded, replaced by exhaustion.

He drifted into sleep.

—

The next time he woke, an unfamiliar discomfort hit him.

His bottom was soaking wet.

Before he could process his humiliation, he wailed in protest. Moments later, someone arrived to tend to him. As she leaned over, his blurry vision cleared, and he caught his first true glimpse of this new world.

An Asian face.

"I've been reincarnated into an Asian family."

For the next week, his routine was simple—cry when hungry or uncomfortable, observe his surroundings, or sleep.

"This world feels ancient."

He saw no signs of modern technology, but since he had never left the room, he couldn't be sure.

After a month, his suspicions deepened. The clothing worn by his parents, servants, and visitors all reflected an ancient style.

By then, he had confirmed it—this was an ancient world.

—

Their household was small but well off. He lived with his parents and three servants, one of whom was solely responsible for his care.

It wasn't until he was six months old, after learning to walk and speak a few simple words, that he was finally taken outside—for a festival in town.

Everything was going as expected. The sights, the sounds, the energy of the festival filled him with awe. Eventually, exhaustion crept in, and he felt sleepy—until a sudden commotion snapped him awake.

Loud shouts ring out from the center of the festival. Though he couldn't see the source of the noise, the excited murmurs and gasps around him told him enough—a fight had broken out.

Curious, he pointed toward the sound, doing his best to form words with his baby voice.

"Papa, Papa! See!"

His father chuckled. "My Kanoru wants to see the samurai fight?"

Lifting him onto his shoulders, his father gave him a clear view over the crowd.

For the first time, he saw them—two men locked in combat, wooden swords clashing in a dazzling display of skill.

His eyes were glued to the fight, captivated.

In his mind, a single thought echoed:

"This is a fantasy world."

A thrill surged through him. His goal was simple—to live longer. In a fantasy world, there were ways to extend one's lifespan.

This world had hope.