Dual Realm Exchange System

By the time Green Leaf Town finally appeared on the horizon, Damian had developed a newfound hatred for the taste of Vials of Vigor.

The first bottle had been wonderful.

His exhaustion disappeared within moments, his aching muscles relaxed and his pathetic physical endurance temporarily stopped humiliating him in front of four teenagers.

The second still worked exceptionally well.

The third?

Less impressive.

By the fifth bottle spread across nearly a full day of travel, Damian was beginning to feel genuinely sick whenever the familiar herbal bitterness touched his tongue.

”Ugh...”

He corked the empty vial and stored it away.

His stamina returned, but not nearly as completely as before.

Apparently, potions were not infinitely exploitable.

Repeated consumption within a short period produced diminishing returns, and his body was beginning to protest being chemically forced into recovery over and over again.

Damian made a mental note.

’Useful in emergencies. Terrible substitute for having actual CON.’

Still, the potions accomplished their purpose.

Instead of forcing four Body Tempering cultivators to move at the pace of an unhealthy office worker all day, Damian managed to maintain a respectable travelling speed with only several embarrassing stretches.

Eventually the forest thinned, giving way to fields, and then walls.

Green Leaf Town occupied a broad stretch of cultivated land beneath several green mountains. A grey stone wall surrounded the settlement, while two large wooden gates stood open beneath a plaque carved with elegant characters.

Fortunately, the Valorian Overworld Language Specialization had somehow adapted through the Dual-Realm Exchange System.

Damian could read it perfectly.

[Green Leaf Town.]

According to Jian Rui, Green Leaf was one of several major outposts maintained within the Evergreen Sect’s territory.

It was not the Sect’s true city, which lay much deeper within their sphere of influence near the mountain ranges where the Evergreen Sect itself resided.

Green Leaf was more like a satellite settlement, a place for mortal commerce, Outer Hall administration, supply collection, mission distribution, and regional communication.

The moment they entered, Damian’s attention sharpened.

Ancient Chinese architecture surrounded him, with tiled roofs curving upward at the corners, wooden buildings carrying elaborate painted signs, and restaurants opening directly onto the streets as clouds of fragrant steam drifted out while waiters shouted for customers.

Men wore long robes, women wore layered dresses, porters balanced loads across shoulder poles and merchants loudly advertised everything from medicinal herbs to farming tools.

Damian loved it for perhaps five minutes, then he began noticing everything else.

A barefoot child sat beside an alley selling wilted vegetables.

An elderly man pushed a cart with one broken wheel while people flowed around him.

Several houses near the inner streets had visibly damaged roofs despite expensive cultivator-owned establishments standing only a short distance away.

Poverty was not hidden in Green Leaf; it existed openly beside wealth, and not even the central districts escaped it.

Jian Rui and the others did not seem to notice anything unusual.

To them, this was simply society.

”Senior Damian, our outpost is near the eastern administrative quarter. We should submit the Fierce Beast materials and report your arrival before seeking transport to the main city,” Jian Rui explained.

Damian nodded. ”Go ahead. I would like to walk around first.”

The youths exchanged looks.

”Senior does not require us to accompany you?” Shen Lian asked.

”I can survive a town for an hour.”

His tone was amused enough that nobody dared argue.

After agreeing to meet at a nearby teahouse, the four disciples headed toward the Evergreen Sect outpost while Damian continued alone.

He had barely made it down another street when shouting erupted behind him.

”MOVE!”

Damian turned slightly to see a carriage coming fast, far too fast for a crowded street.

Two large black horses thundered across the stone road, pulling a decorated carriage whose driver wore a dark martial outfit.

The man held a whip.

Damian’s eyes narrowed.

”OUT OF THE WAY!”

CRACK!

The whip snapped, and a middle-aged labourer carrying baskets stumbled aside as the leather struck his shoulder.

CRACK!

A woman screamed when another strike caught her arm.

People scattered immediately in terror and obeisance.

Damian instinctively stepped backward as the carriage continued straight toward him.

The driver saw him.

More precisely, he saw the staff, the black-and-gold robes, and the faint magical aura surrounding Damian’s equipment, and his expression changed greatly.

The whip lowered as the driver yanked the reins so sharply that the carriage swerved toward the opposite side of the road to avoid coming anywhere near Damian.

The horses passed him with several feet to spare.

No insult was thrown his way, no demand that he move aside, not even a splash of mud disturbed his robes as the carriage passed.

Then—

CRACK!

The whip immediately resumed striking commoners farther down the street.

Damian twisted around, his terrible physicality betraying him once again.

By the time he properly turned, the carriage had already swerved past, then accelerated.

Shouts followed in its wake, leaving one man fallen, another woman clutching a bleeding cheek, and a vegetable stall overturned.

Damian stood there speechlessly.

The bastard had deliberately avoided him, neither because the street required greater care nor because the driver suddenly discovered basic human decency, but because Damian looked powerful.

Everyone else?

Hehe, roadkill!

Damian slowly looked at the commoners around him.

”What a world...”

Several injured people were helping one another up, and nobody seemed surprised.

Angry and humiliated, yes, but not at all surprised.

That somehow bothered Damian more, and his grip tightened around the staff.

For a moment, he considered leaving, as he had no obligation here, none.

He did not know these people and would probably never see them again.

By tomorrow, he might be inside the Evergreen Sect’s main affiliated city, meeting cultivators, establishing trade contacts and hunting for a cultivation technique.

These commoners would become faces in a crowd.

Damian could walk away now and nothing would happen to him.

There wouldn’t be a system punishment, moral alignment decrease, nor hidden quest failure... nothing at all.

And truthfully?

Interfering was not necessarily wise.

Damian was still weak, barely understood Shengyuan’s laws, and did not know who owned that carriage.

Playing righteous hero against every injustice he encountered was exactly how cultivation protagonists somehow accumulated seventeen blood feuds before reaching the second realm.

Damian exhaled, then something uncomfortable crossed his mind.

A hospital room with white walls and his mother lying motionless beneath thin blankets.

And the bills.

Always those damn bills!

Damian remembered sitting beside Angela’s bed, exhausted beyond words, occasionally entertaining childish thoughts despite knowing better.

Maybe some rich philanthropist would hear their story.

Perhaps some charity would suddenly cover everything.

Maybe one wealthy person would spend what amounted to pocket change for them and completely transform Damian’s life.

To someone spending five thousand dollars at a nightclub, his mother’s monthly shortfall might have been meaningless.

To Damian?

It had been everything.

Back then, he had also been nameless, unimportant, one struggling man among millions.

Damian looked at the injured commoners again.

Now, he was standing on the other side.

He wasn’t wealthy enough to reshape Shengyuan nor powerful enough to punish whoever he pleased.

But compared to these people?

He had something.

Damian closed his eyes briefly and sighed.

This was not about being righteous.

He had no intention of pretending to possess some spotless moral superiority, nor was he about to dedicate his life to rescuing every unfortunate stranger he encountered.

He simply did not want power to turn him into the kind of person his old self had desperately wished would care.

If Damian changed completely the moment helping someone became inconvenient...

Then what exactly had all those years of suffering taught him?

He opened his eyes.

”Alright!”

His staff struck the stone road.

THUNK!

Mana rippled faintly outward.

”Anyone injured by that carriage, bring them here!” Damian called.

The surrounding street went quiet as people stared in disbelief.

Damian waited, but nobody approached, and his brows furrowed.

”I said bring the injured here. I can treat them.”

Still nothing.

Then Damian understood.

They were afraid... of him.

Several commoners had already noticed his clothing before the carriage arrived.

An apparent immortal master, a cultivator, someone whose mood could determine whether they lived or died.

Approaching such a person without permission was dangerous enough.

But to seek assistance from him?

Unthinkable.

Even now, after Damian explicitly offered help, those nearest him hesitated as though wondering whether this was some bizarre test.

Finally, an elderly woman shuffled forward carrying the hand of a boy perhaps eight years old.

The child’s forehead was bleeding from where he had fallen during the stampede.

The old woman stopped several paces away before dropping to her knees.

”Great Immortal, please spare this old woman’s rudeness!”

She kowtowed, and the boy immediately copied her.

Damian froze as others followed.

One injured man knelt, followed by a young woman supporting her husband.

Another family.

Within seconds, people were placing injured relatives before Damian while repeatedly bowing their heads against the stone.

”Enough!”

The word came out sharper than Damian intended, and everyone froze.

Damian softened his tone.

”You do not need to kneel. Just bring anyone injured here.”

Nobody stood, but at least the kowtowing stopped.

Damian swallowed his discomfort.

This was different, nothing in Valoria had prepared him for this.

People respected Roland, feared powerful monsters, and deferred to nobles.

But this?

These people acted as though Damian acknowledging their existence was already generosity.

He reached into the Dual-Realm Exchange Storage, and a Vial of Healing appeared.

Several people gasped at the feat as Damian uncorked it.

”This is medicine. A small sip only per person. Pass it carefully.”

The elderly woman received the vial with both hands, her fingers trembling.

She gave a tiny amount to the boy, and as the golden-red liquid passed his lips, the wound across his forehead closed almost instantly.

The child’s eyes widened. ”Grandmother!”

The old woman stared in shocked disbelief, then tears filled her eyes.

Damian passed another vial toward a man whose shoulder had been split by the whip.

After a single sip, the torn skin knitted together and the bruising disappeared.

An older labourer with a twisted ankle drank next, and his swelling vanished.

Then something unexpected happened as the man straightened.

He stared at his hands. ”M-My fingers...!!”

”What?” another person near him asked with furrowed brows.

”They... they don’t hurt anymore!” the man exclaimed with excitement.

He flexed them repeatedly, and years of joint pain had disappeared alongside the fresh injury.

Another woman began thanking Damian profusely because a chronic ache in her chest had vanished.

Damian blinked.

Right, these were ordinary mortals.

A Common Vial of Healing worked fully on beings up to Level 5.

To Damian, the potion was beginner Adventurer medicine.

To a normal human body? It might as well have been a miracle elixir.

By the time every injured person had received enough, Damian had used less than three bottles.

Perhaps thirty Copper worth of medicine, barely anything to the current and even future him.

The commoners looked at him as though he had descended from heaven.

The old woman suddenly kowtowed again.

”This old woman will remember Great Immortal’s kindness until death!”

Others followed.

”Thank you, Great Immortal!”

”May Senior live ten thousand years!”

”May the heavens bless Immortal Master!”

Damian’s heart thumped as he raised one hand awkwardly.

”That’s enough. Really. Just... take care of yourselves.”

The praise continued until Damian eventually escaped.

He walked until he found the teahouse where he was meant to meet the Evergreen disciples, entered and selected a table near the upper-floor window.

The tea itself arrived only because Damian explicitly called for it, as the owner himself looked terrified to approach.

Apparently, Damian’s expression had become darker than he realized.

He sat there staring into the cup, his interest in sightseeing gone and so too his interest in examining Green Leaf’s market.

For once, money could wait.

Nearly an hour passed before four familiar figures hurried inside.

”Senior Damian!”

Jian Rui called enthusiastically before immediately sensing the atmosphere.

All four youths slowed and approached carefully.

”We have completed our mission submission. The outpost has also sent word ahead concerning Senior’s interest in commercial cooperation. Deacon Mu is willing to receive you once we reach the main city,” Jian Rui reported.

Damian nodded. ”Good.”

Silence.

The youths exchanged worried glances.

Eventually, Jian Rui gathered his courage.

”Senior... has something happened?”

Damian looked toward him, then sighed.

”I watched a carriage driver whip commoners out of his path.”

The four paused.

”He deliberately avoided me because he thought I was powerful, then continued striking everyone behind me,” Damian continued.

”Nobody stopped him. Nobody even seemed surprised.”

The disciples’ expressions became complicated.

Damian briefly explained what followed.

Bo Wen’s eyes widened, Lin Meiyu looked moved, Shen Lian lowered her gaze, and Jian Rui remained silent the longest.

”Senior is truly righteous!” he finally said sincerely.

Damian shook his head. ”Not really. I simply had the means and chose to use it.”

”That is more righteousness than many possess,” Jian Rui replied.

Damian said nothing.

The young swordsman hesitated before continuing.

”The Evergreen Sect does try, Senior. So does the Azure Water Sect, in its territory. Murder among mortals is severely punished. Rape, large-scale robbery and certain forms of abuse are likewise forbidden. But...”

”But?” Damian prompted.

”The harder immortal sects attempt to force virtue upon every mortal settlement, clan and noble household, the more resentment and resistance appear,” Jian Rui explained carefully.

”Our sect learned this generations ago, and so did the Azure Water Sect. Laws exist, but governance remains loose unless matters cross certain boundaries.”

Damian frowned. ”A man whipping random people in the street doesn’t cross one?”

”Usually not unless someone dies, is crippled, or officials determine the act was deliberately excessive,” Jian Rui admitted.

It wasn’t the answer Damian liked, yet he understood the logic.

Even benevolent rulers possessed limits.

Trying to micromanage millions of people into moral perfection could create its own problems, especially when those rulers were cultivators whose solution to disobedience might involve overwhelming force.

Damian leaned back. ”So you pinch your noses and tolerate what you consider lesser evils?”

Jian Rui looked embarrassed. ”Something like that, Senior.”

Damian stared out the window.

He did not agree.

But he also lacked enough knowledge to confidently say he possessed a better solution, and that mattered.

Life on Earth had taught him that recognizing a problem was far easier than solving it.

”Fine, fine. I understand,” Damian acquiesced with a slump of his shoulders.

The four youths visibly relaxed at that.

Soon afterward, they left the teahouse and followed Jian Rui toward the Evergreen Sect outpost.

A large courtyard occupied the eastern district, surrounded by green-roofed administrative halls.

Behind the main compound stood several reinforced platforms, and resting on one of them was a gigantic bird.

Damian stopped to size it up.

The creature resembled a crane crossed with an eagle, standing several meters tall with jade-green feathers running along its wings and silver-white plumage covering its chest.

A broad riding platform had been strapped securely across its back.

Jian Rui smiled. ”This is a Verdant Cloud Crane, Senior. The outpost uses them for short-distance transport between Green Leaf and the sect’s main affiliated city.”

Damian looked at the enormous flying beast, then at the sky, then back at the beast.

Finally, this felt properly fantastical.

The five boarded as the crane spread its wings.

WHOOM!

Air blasted across the platform as the beast launched upward.

Green Leaf rapidly shrank beneath them, fields becoming squares, roads becoming lines, and people disappearing from sight.

Damian stood near the edge, one hand gripping the railing while the wind tugged at his robes.

Behind him, the four youths remained unusually quiet, still affected by what he had told them.

Perhaps they now thought him some wandering righteous cultivator, his actions merely deepening the absurd image they possessed of him.

Damian himself was thinking about something else entirely.

Power.

Yesterday, he had wanted it for his mother, his father, himself, and his future business.

All of that remained true.

But as Green Leaf disappeared beneath the clouds, Damian understood one more thing.

Having power meant eventually deciding what kind of person would possess it.

He had made one small decision today.

There would undoubtedly be many, many more.