I Can Only Cultivate In A Game-Chapter 54: Is This The Boy You Spoke Of?

"Tell me about it," Victor muttered. "I don't get it either."

There was a brief pause.

Then he whispered in a low tone:

"But none of that mattered in the end, did it?"

His mother frowned. "What do you mean?"

Victor swallowed hard. "I have all this power," his hands tightened around the helmet as he voiced quietly. "And yet, I couldn't even save Dad."

His mother's breath got caught in her throat.

Victor let out a shaky sigh while staring down at the floor.

"What's the point of having power," he murmured, "if you're too weak to protect the ones that matter?"

His mother reached out and gently placed a hand on his cheek.

"Victor…"

His throat tightened. "I'm a fraud, Mom. I couldn't save him."

Tears welled up in his mother's eyes.

And then, without another word, she pulled him into her arms.

Victor broke down once again as he clutched onto her desperately.

His shoulders shook violently as tears streamed down his face.

His mother held him tightly as tears slipped down her own cheeks as well.

"My sweet boy…" she whispered. "You're not a fraud."

Victor buried his face into her shoulder with his chest heaving as he sobbed.

"I miss him…"

"I know," she whispered while stroking his hair. "I miss him too."

For a while, they just cried.

Holding onto each other and sharing the pain.

After a long silence, his mother finally spoke again.

"Victor," she said softly.

He didn't move.

She gently pulled away and cupped his face.

"You need to go to the Awakening Academy."

Victor stiffened.

He opened his mouth, but she cut him off.

"I know you think you need to stay," she said firmly. "That you need to take care of me."

Victor looked away.

"But you can't keep putting your life on hold because of me."

"You have power, Victor. You have a gift. And I know… I know it hurts to think about moving forward after what happened, but—"

Victor shook his head.

"I can't just leave you."

She smiled sadly.

"Victor, I've taken care of myself for years. I'll be fine."

"But the bills—"

"I can manage," she assured him. "And if you make it through the academy, one day, you'll be able to do even more."

Victor's chest ached.

"You're my son," she whispered. "And I want you to live, Victor. To truly live."

Victor exhaled sharply while blinking back tears.

He looked down at his VR helmet, then back at his mother.

Finally…

He whispered:

"I'll think about it."

His mother smiled softly.

"That's all I ask."

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Days passed, and New Avalon City moved forward.

For the Awakened teens, the world had opened up in new ways.

The Awakened Academy's resumption date drew ever closer, and excitement buzzed through the city.

The academy itself wasn't within the city—it was located far away in a protected, classified zone.

The journey there would be a spectacle in itself.

And though every awakened individual was guaranteed entry into the academy, the screening tests still held immense importance.

Screening wasn't about acceptance—it was about rank, privilege, and opportunity.

The higher one's score and potential, the better the benefits:

● Superior accommodations

● Higher monthly allowances

● Special training resources

● Access to elite combat instructors

Because of this, every Awakened worked hard to perform their absolute best.

And Victor?

Victor had reapplied due to his mother's affirmations.

While Victor waited for his screening, his friends didn't forget about him.

Amara had sent letters to the Awakened Academy, pushing for assistance for Victor's mother once Victor was enrolled.

Danny, Max, and Jake? They were spreading word everywhere, trying to raise funds to help his family.

Even though Victor wasn't his usual self, even though he didn't show the same enthusiasm, he appreciated their efforts.

He just… didn't know how to be himself anymore.

---

The bell jingled as Victor stood behind the counter of the small convenience store.

The fluorescent lights buzzed faintly.

A customer—a man with a tired look—dumped a few energy drinks and protein bars onto the counter.

Victor scanned the items lazily.

"Rough day?" he inquired out of habit more than genuine curiosity.

The man sighed. "Brother, you have no idea."

Victor smirked. "Try me. I work here."

The man let out a dry chuckle, then grabbed his bag of items and walked off.

Victor exhaled while tapping his fingers on the register.

There were worse jobs, but this… this was not what he wanted to be doing.

Not long ago, he had fought for his life.

He had held a sword.

He had faced death.

And now? He was bagging groceries.

The contrast was almost comical.

Victor glanced at the clock. His shift would end soon.

And then… another day of waiting.

When Victor returned home that evening, his mother wasn't alone.

A man and a little girl sat in the living room, chatting quietly with her.

Victor paused for a moment, then recognized him.

Damien.

One of the miners from the Molten Wastes.

The man Victor's father had saved.

And the little girl sitting beside him? His daughter.

Victor stepped inside slowly.

Damien noticed him and immediately stood.

"Victor," he greeted with a warm but somber tone.

Victor nodded slightly. "Hey."

Damien looked at him with an expression of gratitude and guilt.

"I wanted to come by," Damien said, "to pay my respects to your father."

Victor's chest tightened.

His mother smiled softly. "That means a lot, Damien. Really."

Damien looked down for a moment, then reached into his pocket.

He pulled out an envelope and placed it on the table.

Victor frowned. "What's this?"

Damien pushed it toward him.

"My entire month's earnings," he said simply.

Victor's mother's eyes widened. "Damien—!"

"Please," he insisted. "Your husband saved my life. My daughter still has a father because of him. This is the least I can do."

Victor's mother shook her head firmly and slid the envelope back.

"No, Damien," she said softly. "We appreciate the thought, truly. But we can't take this from you."

Damien looked conflicted.

Victor, who had been silent until now, finally spoke.

"If you really want to honor him," he said, "then live well. Keep being a good father. That's what he died for."

Damien's eyes softened.

He nodded slowly and pulled the envelope back.

Before leaving, Damien placed a hand on Victor's shoulder.

"If you ever need work in the mines," he said, "I'll make sure you get paid handsomely."

Victor chuckled dryly.

"Not exactly my dream job, but I'll keep that in mind."

They shared a small laugh before Damien left with his daughter.

And for the first time in a while… Victor felt something lighter in his chest.

...

...

Far from New Avalon City, in the highest floor of a towering building, two figures sat around a long table.

The walls were lined with holographic displays showing different surveillance feeds, some static-filled and distorted from battle damage.

A single projection played before them, flickering as if the data was barely intact.

It showed a battle—one that took place a month ago during the Molten Wastes Incident.

The video was heavily corrupted, static-filled, and missing large chunks of footage.

But the pieces that were visible were enough to make any experienced fighter pause.

It showed a boy—no older than a high school student—wielding a greatsword and standing his ground against a Drakenar war party leader.

Cecilia Thorne stood with arms crossed as she watched in silence.

Beside her, an older man in a high-ranking military uniform sighed.

When the footage ended, the man turned to Cecilia.

"Is this the boy you spoke of?" he asked.