The morning mist slowly lifted, revealing the winding path snaking through the hills. After receiving their first rudiments of cultivation from old Chen the previous day—breath posture, meridian perception, control of the dantian—the four youngsters walked with renewed energy. Even Mu Liang, usually reserved, showed silent determination.
Their journey to the nearby town led them through semi-wild territory, still uncleared, which hunters had avoided for generations. The tall grass often concealed treacherous dips, and slippery stones shifted beneath their feet.
It was there, at a bend in the wooded trail, that it happened.
As they descended a steep slope, Yun Lue, focused on her footing, caught her foot on a damp root jutting from the ground. She slipped, tried to grab a branch, but it snapped under her weight. She fell hard, her arm slashed by a sharp stone.
— "Ah!" she cried, clutching her forearm as bright blood welled up.
Hei Tian rushed over at once, followed by Chen. The old man quickly examined the wound.
— "It's not fatal, but the blood… we must act quickly."
— "Why?" asked Mu Liang, worried.
— "Because this land is marked. A beast prowls here. One with a sense of smell far too keen for a creature of its level."
The atmosphere froze. The rustling leaves fell silent. Even the wind seemed to hold its breath.
Then they heard it. A guttural growl, a hoarse snarl rising from the forest. Two glowing eyes appeared between the undergrowth, followed by a massive body covered in dirt-gray fur bristling with bony spikes.
> — "A shadow boar," Chen murmured.
Though not a true monster, the beast exuded savage presence. It was drawn to blood, hungry, and territorial.
— "Everyone step back. Yun Lue, hold on."
Hei Tian stepped forward.
— "I'll draw it to me."
Chen turned toward him, his gaze dark.
— "You don't know what you're saying. This isn't an exercise. It's not an illusion. You think you understand that thing because you feel its energy? You're just a child. Arrogance is the number one cause of death among young cultivators."
Hei Tian clenched his jaw. He didn't respond immediately. He wanted to prove something… but he also remembered Chen's harsh look from the day before when he had spoken of his weakness.
— "I won't act on impulse," he finally said. "But I feel something. If I don't do it now, I'll never know whether I'm capable of acting."
Chen stared at him for a long moment, then sighed.
— "You better survive. Otherwise, I swear I'll resurrect your corpse just to slap it."
Hei Tian nodded, already focused.
He grabbed a sturdy branch. His heart pounded—too fast. He tried to calm it, to breathe as Chen had taught him. The mist clung to his skin, and the beast approached.
The beast's roar shook the ground. Hei Tian rolled to the side, narrowly avoiding its strike. He landed on slippery soil, his fingers sinking into mud. He leapt to his feet, panting, breath short.
A claw slashed the air. He raised his staff just in time, but the impact jolted his entire arm. He stumbled back two steps, his arm numb. Damn… he thought, pain lancing through his side where a gash was already bleeding.
The beast charged again. Hei Tian briefly closed his eyes. No room for fear. He planted his feet, pivoted, and made a brutal arc with his staff. The wood struck the monster's snout with a dull crack. Blood splattered.
The beast staggered back, growling. Hei Tian didn't wait. He charged, ignoring the burning pain in his wound, and leapt. His staff whistled through the air, striking again—stronger, deeper. The beast reeled… then collapsed.
A heavy silence fell.
Behind him, a deep voice rang out:
— "Enough."
Chen stepped forward, arms crossed. He had watched the whole time, never intervening. He had seen the weakness, the doubt—but also the raw will. He gave a silent nod.
— "You still don't know how to fight, but at least you know when you have to learn fast. You scared me, damn brat."
Hei Tian, still panting, took a step back, eyes dark. He had brushed death—and he knew it.
Yun Lue ran toward him. She leaned down without thinking, placing a hand on his shoulder.
— "Are you hurt?"
The touch was warm, alive.
Hei Tian blinked. He looked at her face. She seemed more agitated than he had expected.
— "It's nothing. Just… a little shaken."
She nodded, but didn't remove her hand immediately.
Mu Liang arrived behind her, out of breath.
— "Brother Hei Tian… You did it. You really did it. That was incredible."
His voice trembled slightly. A mix of admiration and shock.
Hei Tian gave a faint smile.
— "It was… clumsy."
Yun Lue was pale, but she smiled faintly, her wound bandaged by Mu Liang. The boy, meanwhile, stared at Hei Tian with bright eyes, almost reverent.
— "You were amazing, Hei Tian…" he whispered.
Hei Tian shook his head, still breathing hard.
But in his eyes, a new light glowed. The light of someone who had faced death… and realized he could survive. More than that—protect.
The group set off again, more slowly, the beast's body partly gutted and tied to an improvised sled.
But in their hearts, something had shifted.
They were no longer just fugitives.
They had become a pack.
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