A mechanical voice caused Zephyr Zinger to stumble, his entire being stunned into wide-eyed disbelief.
~ Ding! *System Notification Chime*
[AllFullOS: Version 0.10.0]
> Scanning Host Attributes...
…
- [Status] COMPLETE: Host attained 'One-Above-All' supremacy.
- [Action] System disbandment initiated. Nothing more to teach.
- [Process] Uninstalling All-Smart Full-Host Cultivation System™...
> Uninstalling...
"What? Holy crap! No, don't uninstall!" Zephyr hurriedly shouted. "Cancel!"
[AllFullOS: Version 0.10.0]
- [Progress] █___________________________________ 5%
"I'm not perfect at all! Esc!"
"Teach me more! Can't you teach me how to cultivate at least?"
[AllFullOS: Version 0.10.0]
- [Progress] ██████████________________ 50%
"System-chan? Dude! System-sama!"
"Alt-F4!"
…
~ Ding! *System Notification Chime*
[AllFullOS: Version 0.10.0]
- [Progress] ██████████████████ 100%
- [Final] Bye-bye~ Have a nice time in this Realm~
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"What the fuck? Is it really gone?"
"Maybe transmigrate me back to Vermythys first, at least?"
"Damn! You dragged me to this weirdo place, and then just vanish like that? System!"
Zephyr roared frantically in his heart, but received no response.
"Motherfxxk! You're piece of useless garbage, AwfulOS!" Zephyr cursed outright.
Five years ago, he had transmigrated to this world and bound with a AllFullOS System. The name sounded incredibly badass, and Zephyr once thought he was destined for the peak of life.
However, the things this System taught him were all rather dumpy crappy stuff like literature, mathematics, chemistry, physics, poetry, and painting.
In the purpose of surviving in a new world. No choice, he had to grit his teeth and learn everything, thinking maybe he'll unlock something super badass after all these useless homework.
Zephyr had endured, until today, when he finally mastered everything the system offered and received grand titles: Saint of Poetry, Sage of Painting, Domainer of Chess, Divine Farmer, and countless others.
Then... the system ran away.
Just like that.
Back in his previous life world, these accomplishments might have meant something. But here? In what appeared to be a cultivation world?
Immortal cultivators flew across the sky regularly.
Rumors spoke of man-eating demons.
This was absolutely infuriating!
What good were these skills against demonic monsters? Was he supposed to reason with these man eating devil beasts?
Out of fear for his petty life, he'd deliberately chosen a secluded slope valley near a town, living self-sufficiently, terrified of being caught in crossfire between immortal masters and dying meaninglessly.
He'd harbored hope, after all. He had a this AllFullOS System.
Five years of endurance had been for this moment—waiting for the system to teach him cultivation, then soar to the heavens and become an immortal.
But despite his calculations and hardwork, the AllFullOS system had simply uninstalled after stuffing his head with useless knowledge.
What a fucking scammer!
He'd considered not relying on the AllFullOS system early on.
Upon first arriving, he'd sought out immortal sects to become a disciple, only to discover he had no spiritual roots. He'd be ordinary his entire life.
"Master, it is time for lunch," a dumb look robot walked from the kitchen, gesturing an invitation.
"Sigh... fine," Zephyr replied half-heartedly. He felt somewhat listless, but he wouldn't ill-treat himself, so he still walked back into the room.
The robot was a reward from the system after he'd mastered Physics. Initially, he'd thought it was excellent—having an artificial intelligent robot serve him. Now Zephyr wanted to cry. In a cultivation world, it was nothing but a piece of scrap metal.
His manor house was an asian style four-courtyard compound with pavilions, towers, streams, and bridges—a true feng shui treasure nestled in the mountains.
The manor itself was a reward after he'd mastered Architecture.
All his daily necessities were rewards from the system after completing various tasks. Combined with his Divine Farmer title, farming was effortless. He could be completely self-sufficient in isolation with excellent food.
"If it really comes to it, I'll just live out my life as a mortal peasant. At least the air and scenery here are much better than in my previous life, and I don't need to struggle to make a living. It's fine, it's fine." Zephyr comforted himself.
The only thing missing now was a girlfriend. All the immortal female cultivator must be stunning beautiful, but they'd never look at a lowlife mortal peasant like me.
Zephyr shook his head, content to fantasize.
He called toward the back yard: "Blackie, meal time!"
A black mongrel dog came bounding over, tongue wagging, eyes fixed expectantly on Zephyr.
"Such a glutton," Zephyr chuckled, quickly preparing Blackie's meal.
Blackie was a dog Zephyr encountered on this little mountain by chance years ago. At that time, it's just a tiny puppy on the verge of starvation, Zephyr took it in, and from then on, man and dog kept each other company.
Blackie was very well-behaved. When Zephyr practiced calligraphy or painting, it would watch quietly from the side, and it especially loved listening to Zephyr play the Harp.
Zephyr once felt that Blackie understood human nature. After all, it was a dog in the cultivation world hey.
——
At that precise moment, two figures emerged from the veil of mist that clung to the mountain's foot. The one in front was a vision in white, a silk gown that seemed spun from moonbeam and frost, swirling about her slender form with each determined step.
But it was her face that stole the very breath from the air—a masterpiece of delicate features, now marred by a storm of quiet fury. Her cheeks were flushed with the soft pink of wounded pride, and her lips—a perfect, rosy bow—were pursed in a petulant line.
A flush of high color warmed her porcelain cheeks, and her rosy lips were pushed into a sulk so pronounced it seemed to hold the weight of the world's disappointments.
The sight was enough to pierce the heart of any onlooker with a fierce and immediate desire to shield her from all of life's vexations.
What manner of man, one wondered, could be so brutish as to inspire such wounded feeling in this peerless jewel?
She walked on angrily, muttering resentfully, "Stupid father, horrible father! How dare he want me to marry that disgusting Dumber Lee! Unforgivable!"
Hearing the princess's words, the green-skirted maid following behind went deathly pale. She quickened her step, her voice a desperate, hushed plea, "Your Highness, please, I implore you! You must not say such things. If the wrong person were to hear... this lowly one trembles to think of the danger it would bring upon you."
"Tch. I'm being forced to marry that disgusting retard, what more is there to be afraid?" the pretty lady in white snorted. "If my old man pushes me further, I'd rather die!"
Trembling uncontrollably, the maid dropped to the floor, pressing her forehead to the cold stone. "Please, my princess, do not say you will die! I beg you, have mercy on your servant's heart, for the very thought strikes me with dread. Please, do not frighten me so!"
"Yare yare, I was just saying. I don't want to die either." The white-skirted maiden's eyes rolled mischievously. "But I can hide! If my stupid father pushes me again, I'll find a place to hide. This mountain forest seems nice. Why don't we find a hiding spot now!"
The maid let out a soft, shaken breath, her hand fluttering to her heart. "Your Highness, you gave me such a fright. I must beg you, never again utter such ominous words."
She then cast a wary glance into the surrounding gloom, her voice dropping to a hushed and urgent tone. "This forest is too desolate. I fear it shelters more than shadows. There may be wild beasts. For your safety, Your Highness, we must return to the palace at once."
The beauty in white stuck out her chin with a haughty little Hmph! "This princess is this close to the Foundation Stage. A few mangy forest puppies are hardly a threat. Now stop being such a scaredy-cat and let's go find a hiding spot! It'll be, like, our secret base!"
Giggling as if the maid's told the silliest joke, she skipped ahead. She shook off her earlier dejection and quickly ran up the mountain.
"Your highness, wait for me..."
One running, the other chasing, they soon upward the hill and downward the slope and reached into a secluded mountain valley.
Floating white clouds, set amongst the green trees, an antique-style building came into view.
The maid's eyes widened in surprise. "Someone actually lives here?"
A soft gasp escaped the maiden in white as her eyes fell upon the manor, her previous vexation forgotten in a wave of instant, arresting wonder. "What a unique manor," she whispered, her voice hushed with awe. "It feels so ancient... as if it stepped out of an ink-wash painting, not built by hands but dreamed onto the land."
The structure was a testament to a different age. It defied the gilded magnificence she was accustomed to, speaking instead of a profound, settled permanence. Its lines were clean and graceful, built of dark, weathered timber and smooth, dove-grey stone that seemed to drink the sunlight rather than reflect it. A roof of aged, blue-grey tiles swept downwards in a gentle curve, its edges softened by velvety patches of moss. There were no glaring jewels or ostentatious carvings, only the quiet luxury of flawless craftsmanship and materials that had been perfected by time itself.
It did not dominate the mountain valley upon which it sat, but rather completed it. The ancient pines seemed to bow towards its eaves in respect, and the drifting mist coiled about its foundations like a respectful attendant. It was a place of harmony, where the boundary between nature and dwelling was seamlessly blurred, evoking a deep, aching yearning for the tranquility it promised.
She wasn't sure if it was an illusion born of the setting, but in that moment, the silent, dignified aura of this secluded manor felt no less impressive than the bustling, overwhelming splendor of her Imperial Palace. A thought, both thrilling and daunting, crystallized in her mind.
Could a true reclusive cultivator master, someone who has transcended the mortal coil, truly be living here?
The beauty's eyes brightened slightly, and she ran forward expectantly. "A spark of unbridled curiosity instantly replaced the lingering petulance in the beauty's eyes. Without a backward glance, she gathered the skirts of her snow-white gown and hurried forward, her steps light with anticipation. "Come quickly," she urged over her shoulder, her voice a hushed, excited whisper. "And remember, if we encounter anyone, the titles 'Princess' or 'Your Highness' are forgotten. You will address me only as 'Young Mistress'."
Her handmaiden, however, remained rooted in place, her face full of worry. "Your High—!" She caught herself, lowering her voice to a frantic plea. "Young Mistress, please wait! We know nothing of this place. It could be dangerous!"
But the beauty in white was already drifting through the unmanned gateway, drawn into the seclusion of the front courtyard like a moth to a tranquil flame. The world outside fell away, replaced by a profound, almost sacred, silence.
The courtyard was a study in simple-luxury, a space where time itself seemed to slow its march. It was not grand, but perfect in its harmony. To one side, a small, meticulously kept vegetable garden thrived, its emerald-green leaves jeweled with dew. At its heart stood an ancient rattan chair, its weave polished smooth by years of use, swaying almost imperceptibly in the mountain breeze as if a master had just risen from it. Beside it, a stone table and four matching stools sat with the solid, unmoving grace of mountains.