A young boy with disheveled hair happily plays in Franklin’s old town. He sometimes dreams of happier days; however, they often turn into nightmares. Franklin’s home town doesn’t only remind him of good days. His dad’s death, the screams, the fire slowly creep in from the darkest corners of his mind.

A spooky voice flows from the shifting shadows, "Franklin! Franklin, do you truly wish to be strong?"

The sudden change in the dream scares the young boy causing him to flee home. As Franklin is about to reach the door, a large bush blocks his path. "Is this all your bold words amount to?" A booming voice asks, shaking Franklin's mind. How can this young boy stand up to John? He has a cultivation of seed coalescing and a hundred years of experience.

Fires envelop the town as Franklin breaks down, shaking and crying in the middle of the street. "MOOMMY!" he screams.

"The Fires of the past will consume you. Will you let everything fall through your fingers?" asks a voice that comes from every direction.

"Franklin, hold on," A female voice pierces the scene. A woman coddles the young man as the world becomes hazy and fades away.

John returns to himself with a shake of his leaves. "Well, that could have gone better." Joe, the demonic bull, opens his droopy eyes and snorts at the bush.

"What? This was the first attempt he's just scared he'll come around." John says while trying to look sagely by extending his branches, making him look taller. Joe can't be bothered with this nonsense and returns to his sleep.

John had more growth in the short time of spring then he had all the previous year. He is now flush with branches with lush green foliage. "If there were any female bushes around, they'd be all over me." John speculates. He has begun to give off a slight glow as energy flows through him, making him look extra healthy.

Today Franklin is a bit frazzled and doesn't leave the hovel he is staying in. Laurel comes over to see what is wrong but is shooed away by Anna. The day flows by, and soon the sun has set again.

Even though he is scared and doesn't want to sleep, his eyes soon droop. He is a young boy with no cultivation, after all, how long can he manage to stay up? Again he is in his old hometown. He shivers as he prepares for another nightmare.

As the dream solidifies, Franklin jumps back, "Ahh!" almost casting him out of his dream. There is an older man in the center of the town staring right at him. He has deep eyes that look as if they have seen ages gone by.

"Well, here we are again." The old man snorts. "Are you going to run and cry for your mother again?"

Franklin trips as he backs away from the old man falling on his bottom. "Who are you?" he asks with a trembling voice.

"Ha, I overheard you bragging to that little lady about how you are going to be strong." John smiles slyly while shaking his head. "Never did I think that the big strong boy would instantly cry for his mommy when I just came for a visit."

Franklin's eyes nearly bulge out of his head "How did you know?"

John can't hold it in anymore and starts laughing with tears coming out of his eyes.

"What's so funny?" Franklin yells dejectedly.

"It's just I'm in your dream." John wheezes between laughs. "Wouldn't most people just think I was part of the dream? If I'm just in your head, why wouldn't I know who you talked to?"

Looking embarrassed, the boy rubs his head. "I guess that makes sense. But you said you came to visit, so I just thought…."

"That I'm a super-powerful being that came to help you out!?" The old man suddenly stops laughing and flies to the boy in an instance. "That's right. I am such a great personage."

Franklin swallows heavily, "But didn't you just..."

"Just what?" John asks as he becomes a large head eyeing the boy.

"No, nothing." Franklin deflates.

"That's what I thought," John harrumphs with his beard flowing. "I can't help but notice that your swordsmanship is…."

"Is what?" The young lad asks impatiently.

"Complete and utter garbage. Even a bush can beat you up!" With a finger pointing into the air, John looks quite heroic and proud of himself. However, Franklin can’t help but look quizzically at the strange man.

Looking at the boy's unreserved attitude, John feels incensed. "Bah, what does a kid know anyways. Here I was planning on helping this nobody, but he thinks he already knows everything," he says to no one, in particular, walking away with his hands behind his back.

Franklin is dumbstruck at the act of this old man. He is so shameless even as he walks away, trying to look mysterious, John keeps peeking back to see if he will be stopped. "Fine, please teach me your great combat techniques," Franklin gives in. He feels bad for the old man and decides to play along.

"Hmph, learn my techniques? Your body can't even handle any technique! Who are you joking." Franklin stumbles as the whole world shakes with the booming voice of the old man.

"I'm John, and I've lived for many years before meeting you, and I will live many more after you die." John gives a condescending look to Franklin before continuing, "if you can even gain a fraction of the power I have, what mortal soldier can stand against you?"

This statement finally gets Franklin a bit pumped to learn. With shining eyes, he asks, "What do I need to do master?"

A throne appears behind John, which he sits on looking smug. "Ha, I'll help you, but calling me master is a bit much. Here look upon your training menu." With a wave of his hand, the dream becomes that of the cobbled-together village.

Here Franklin can see himself running and running. How long is he expected to run for, he wonders? After a hundred laps around the hill, the figment of him running stops. Then it shows him lifting all kinds of heavy objects pans, pots, hammers, etc. over and over. "What is this?" Franklin asks in confusion.

"It's the basics, you lazy kid!" Flames spew out of John’s mouth, and the world brakes apart. "How can someone scrawny like you learn any fighting techniques. Do your best kid, and show me your determination." The resolute voice comes from the void as Franklin is roused from his dreams by the morning light.