Snow sank against the cave wall, exhaustion finally catching up to him. His hands trembled as he unfastened the stolen armor, letting it clatter to the ground. Beneath, his tunic was torn and soaked in blood.
His fingers brushed over the wound on his side. The cut wasn't deep, but it throbbed fiercely. The graze on his leg from the arrow burned, and his muscles screamed from the brutal escape.
He needed to clean the wounds. Infection was as deadly as any sword.Even though he had become a cultivator again he was still too weak to be immune to infections..He won't be sick with mortal ailments but wounds like that could still kill him if he didn't take proper care of it
Snow forced himself back to his feet and stumbled toward the cave entrance. Outside, the rhythmic drip of water led him to a small trickling stream. He cupped the cold liquid in his hands and washed the blood from his skin, gritting his teeth against the sting.
The cold numbed him, but it also brought clarity.
As he tended to his wounds, Snow's mind drifted to Mei and Shen. They had given him a path forward. He just needed to survive long enough to follow it.
He wrapped a strip of cloth around his side, binding the wound as tightly as he could. It wasn't perfect, but it would hold.
Returning to the cave, he took the driest spot he could find and collapsed against the stone wall. His body protested, but his mind was already slipping into unconsciousness.
He had survived the first part of the escape.
But the real journey was just beginning.
Snow awoke to the sound of rustling leaves. His instincts snapped to attention, his hand reaching for the stolen sword at his side. He held his breath, listening.
Nothing. Just the wind.
Morning light filtered through the cave entrance. He had slept longer than intended, but his body felt marginally better. The wounds still ached, but the dizziness had faded.
Time to move.
He climbed to his feet and gathered his things. West first, then south. That was the path Mei and Shen had given him. The Wei Clan would expect him to head straight for the nearest town. He wouldn't.
Instead, he would go deeper into the wild.
Navigating the forest was treacherous. The terrain was rough, the thick undergrowth slowing his pace. Birds scattered at his approach, their sudden movement making his pulse quicken. Every sound felt like a potential threat.
But he kept moving.
As the hours passed, hunger gnawed at him. He needed food. Water was easy to find—streams crisscrossed the landscape—but he hadn't eaten since his escape from the mine.
He searched for anything edible—wild berries, roots. He had no tools to hunt, no traps to set. If he didn't find real food soon, he would weaken.
By late afternoon, Snow stumbled upon a small clearing. A fallen tree had crushed part of the underbrush, exposing a burrow in the earth. Animal tracks surrounded it.
A rabbit hole.
Snow crouched, scanning the area. His fingers tightened around the hilt of his sword. If he could catch one—
A snap of a twig.
Snow froze.
A beast was nearby
Snow crouched low, his breath steady despite the ache in his ribs. The forest was silent—too silent. Something was nearby.
His fingers tightened around the hilt of his sword as his eyes scanned the dense underbrush. A faint rustling in the foliage confirmed his suspicions. The weight of an unseen predator pressed against the air, its presence unmistakable.
Then, he saw them.
Amber eyes, glowing in the dim light of the forest, watching him from the shadows.
A spirit beast.
Snow exhaled slowly. Spirit beasts were stronger than ordinary animals, their bodies infused with natural energy. In his weakened state, he couldn't afford a prolonged battle. He had to end this quickly.
The underbrush trembled. Then, with a sudden burst of speed, the beast lunged.
Snow barely had time to react. He twisted his body, rolling aside as massive claws slashed through the space where he had stood moments before. The force of the strike sent dirt and leaves flying.
The beast landed, its dark fur bristling, lips curled back in a snarl. It was wolf-like in shape, but its muscles were unnaturally large, its claws too sharp, too long. A hunter forged by the wild.
Snow didn't hesitate. He sprang forward, his sword a blur of silver in the dim light.
The blade struck true, slicing into the beast's shoulder. A furious howl tore through the forest as the spirit beast staggered back, but the wound was not enough to slow it.
The wolf-like creature retaliated instantly. Its powerful limbs propelled it forward, its fangs bared for Snow's throat.
Snow ducked, pivoting sharply. He barely avoided the snapping jaws, but the beast's claws raked across his ribs.
Pain flared, sharp and immediate.
Snow grit his teeth, forcing himself to stay upright. He couldn't afford to falter now.
The spirit beast circled him, wary now. It had expected easy prey. Instead, it had found a warrior.
Snow took a step back, his mind racing. He needed an opening. A way to shift the fight in his favor.
His gaze flicked toward the fallen tree beside the burrow. A plan formed.
Bait it. Make it overextend.
Snow loosened his stance, letting his exhaustion show. He let his sword drop slightly, feigning weakness.
The beast's ears flicked forward. It saw an opportunity.
It lunged.
Snow moved.
At the last second, he sidestepped, pushing off the ground with everything he had. His foot struck a loose branch, sending it flying into the beast's face.
The distraction was slight, but it was enough.
Snow's sword flashed downward.
The blade pierced the spirit beast's throat, driving deep.
The creature let out a gurgled snarl before collapsing, its body twitching once before going still.
Snow stood over the corpse, panting. His ribs throbbed, his muscles burned, but he had won.
The scent of blood filled the air. The forest remained silent. No other predators dared approach.
Snow exhaled, pressing a hand to his side. Blood seeped through his makeshift bandages, but he ignored it. He had what he needed.
Meat.