LOST CULTIVATION METHODS

The scene returned to the ruined city of Valeria, where Lana and Lila clung to each other in tearful silence.

Their reunion was thick with unspoken grief and fragile hope.

Time seemed to pause, the wind holding its breath as the two women trembled in each other's arms, the years of separation and sorrow collapsing into that single embrace.

Around them, the ragged survivors who had accompanied Lila slowly lowered their makeshift weapons.

Spears fashioned from broom handles, broken swords dulled by time—none of them could have protected against what they had endured.

But they had carried them anyway, out of fear, desperation, and the clinging weight of memory.

They had no illusions of strength, only a determination not to go down without a fight.

Now they simply dropped them. One by one, the clatter of weapons striking the stone echoed faintly. It was not a surrender to weakness, but to relief.

They sat in a loose circle upon the cracked stone of the courtyard, surrounded by overgrown weeds and broken statues that once bore the pride of Valeria.

Shadows danced along the walls, and the afternoon light painted their faces with both fatigue and fragile anticipation.

Lila began to speak, her voice soft and raw. "After you left," she said, almost whispering, "a strange miasma came from the mountains."

Jin tilted his head slightly. Miasma?

"It rolled into the city like a fog of decay," Lila continued, her eyes unfocused, staring into the past.

"Thick. Sickly. It turned the sky dark, and the air itself tasted foul. With it came beasts—feral and unnatural. They moved like shadows, like nightmares given form. We tried to hold the city, but it was impossible."

Lana's face went pale as she gripped Lila's hand tighter.

"We stayed," Lila said.

"Our family... Father was still strong. Lord Thorian Fern never ran from a fight. He said we couldn't abandon the people. For a while, we managed. He organized the defense, rallied the last loyal guards. But then... something else came."

Jin leaned forward, sensing the shift in her tone.

"It looked like an orc," she whispered.

"But wrong. Bigger. Covered in scars. Eyes like molten iron. It carried a halberd as big as a tree. We called it the Beast of Mourning. It came one dawn, walking through the miasma like a ghost. Father faced it. He fought for half a day..."

Her voice cracked.

"He wounded it—deeply. But he was grievously hurt. He smiled at me when he returned... then he collapsed. He never woke up."

Arielle, usually composed, was openly crying by then, tears streaming silently down her cheeks. Sarah moved to her side and patted her back gently, red-eyed but trying to remain calm.

"Every day after that, more beasts came. The city fell slowly. One house at a time. We buried the dead until there was no strength left.

Eventually, we ran. Some fled to other kingdoms. But our family and a few others... we went into the mountains.

We found caves, hidden places, where the miasma couldn't reach. We hid... and we survived. But disease followed.

We have no healers, no medicine. It's killing us now."

A heavy silence fell across the group. Even the wind that had stirred through the ruins moments ago now felt still, as if mourning with them.

Then Sarah stood, her expression firm. "I can help those nearby. Healing magic is part of my cultivation. If they still have breath, I won't let them die."

"I'll help too," Arielle added, wiping her face and forcing a smile through the tears. "They deserve peace."

The two women set to work among the refugees, calling out the injured and treating wounds with gentle spells and prepared herbs.

Jin turned and led Lana and Lila back toward the manor.

The dining room had been cleared and somewhat restored with patched benches, repaired flooring, and a sturdy table that no longer wobbled at the slightest breeze.

"You should wash up," Lana said, brushing a leaf from Lila's shoulder. "You'll feel better."

"There's a working bath," Jin added, pointing toward the west wing.

"One of the disaster rooms, but the enchantments still function. Hot water, clean basin."

Lila gave him a tired smile and walked off without another word.

Her shoulders sagged not just from exhaustion, but from years of bearing the burden of leadership in a land abandoned by hope.

Jin slumped at the table, letting his aching body rest for a moment. His thoughts drifted as he stared out the broken window.

The earth was still uncertain. Lana was planting the seeds he had passed her earlier—a test to see if the land still held potential.

Moments passed.

Then the door creaked open.

Jin looked up.

And nearly choked on air.

Lila stood in the doorway, her silhouette framed by the fading sunlight.

Her hair, once a tangle of dirt and grime, now flowed like golden silk down her back.

Still damp from the bath, it clung to her bare shoulders.

A simple towel wrapped her form, but it may as well have been a dress of temptation woven by sirens.

She was breathtaking.

Her figure was the kind that could start a civil war.

Strong shoulders, trim waist, hips full and inviting.

Her sun-kissed skin glowed in the light, every movement a dance of unintentional seduction.

Her legs were long and firm, sculpted by survival and hardship.

She radiated power, but it was veiled under a subtle, dangerous grace.

She sat beside him without hesitation. The towel shifted, riding up slightly, revealing a tanned thigh so smooth and flawless it could be a sculptor's pride. The faint dotted marks hinted at where hair might have once grown—but there was none.

Jin gulped.

"Hey," Lila said with a smirk. "Done staring?"

He blinked rapidly, panic rising. "No... I mean—how can you have such long legs?"

Lil Jin immediately stood at attention.

His face ignited in a bright red blush. IDIOT!

He coughed violently, trying to recover. "So... uh, what's your cultivation level?"

Before she could answer, the familiar chime of the system rang in his head.

[SYSTEM SCAN ACTIVATED]

Name: Lila Fern

Age: 30

Race: Human

Affinity: Wood

Cultivation Level: Spirit Realm, 3rd Stage

Health Status: Stable

Status: Battle-Hardened Survivor

Potential Lover Compatibility: 65%

Virginity Status: Confirmed

Jin's jaw nearly unhinged.

Potential lover? he thought in disbelief.

The system added in its usual sarcastic tone:

[Warning: Hormonal spike detected. Please manage your impulses.]

Lila, completely unaware of the storm in his head, crossed her legs.

Jin fought to keep his eyes up. Focus, damn it. Eyes. Up. Up!

"Spirit Realm," she said calmly.

"Third stage. Wood element. I was always support and healing focused, but I can fight when I need to."

Her voice matched the system report perfectly.

Jin nodded slowly. "That's... impressive. Spirit Realm isn't easy to reach, especially not while defending a ruined city."

She chuckled, brushing a damp strand of hair from her face.

"Neither was surviving the past years. But here I am. Still alive. Still kicking."

He nodded again, slower this time.

His thoughts, however, were spiraling. Sixty-five percent compatibility? Virgin? Potential lover?! He wasn't sure whether to thank the system or throttle it.

He cleared his throat, trying to reset the moment. "You, uh, want some tea?"

She laughed, light and musical. "Tea would be nice. But maybe a change of clothes first."

Jin turned away quickly, face burning.

He had faced down spectral dragons, outdueled bloodline assassins, and endured the wrath of a divine inheritance.

But this?

This might just be the battle that defeated him.

And it had nothing to do with cultivation.

It had everything to do with a towel.