Chapter Thirty-Three: The Unleashed Tide
The storm had raged for hours, a relentless downpour that drenched the land and filled the skies with thunder and lightning, its fury a reflection of the Kirin's curse. Under the brooding darkness and the echoing roars of thunder, a new threat began to emerge from the depths of the Azure Mountains—a beast tide, an unstoppable surge of wild creatures driven from their habitat, flooding into the lowlands in a chaotic wave.
Ji Yuan, stationed at the far edges of Kunlun's territory, felt it before he saw it—a vibration running through the earth, a subtle tremor that intensified with each passing second. Standing on a rocky outcrop overlooking the forest, he squinted into the rain-soaked darkness, his senses honed to a razor's edge as he tried to discern the source of the disturbance. But what he saw defied all expectation.
A dark mass of movement rolled through the forest, a vast, seething wave of beasts tearing through the underbrush, their forms half-hidden by shadows and flashes of lightning. Animals of every size and shape—predators, prey, creatures both common and rare—all surged forward, united by a single, unbreakable instinct: survival. It was as if the storm itself had driven them mad, filling them with a terror so profound that even natural enmities were forgotten in their desperation to escape whatever force lay behind them.
The tide drew closer, a cacophony of roars, shrieks, and the relentless thundering of hooves and paws pounding the earth. Ji Yuan felt a surge of adrenaline flood his veins, his instincts screaming at him to run, to put as much distance as possible between himself and the oncoming wave. There was no choice. This was not an enemy he could fight, not a force he could resist. It was raw, unbridled chaos, and to stand against it would be suicide.
Without a backward glance, he turned and sprinted down the narrow path that wound its way through Kunlun's borderlands. Every muscle in his body tensed as he pushed himself to his limits, his breaths coming in short, sharp bursts. The storm battered against him, the rain blinding and cold, each drop stinging his face as he sped through the underbrush. But the beast tide was closing in, its relentless approach filling the air with the heavy scent of damp fur and sweat, an oppressive miasma that clung to everything it touched.
As he ran, his thoughts flickered to the other disciples stationed nearby, those who had been assigned to guard Kunlun's borders. Their faces, their voices—memories that rose unbidden in his mind. But he knew with brutal clarity that there was nothing he could do to save them. The beast tide was a force of nature, unstoppable and merciless. Any attempt to rally his fellow disciples, to stand and fight, would only end in their destruction.
The guilt was there, gnawing at him even as he fled, but he forced it down, focusing solely on his escape. Survival demanded ruthlessness, demanded he sever any ties to those left behind. There would be time for regret later, but only if he lived through this. He vaulted over rocks, ducked under branches, his movements swift and practiced as he wove his way through the treacherous terrain.
The sound of the beast tide grew louder, closer, the rumbling of hundreds of paws and hooves crashing through the forest, tearing down trees and flattening everything in their path. The ground trembled beneath him, each step a reminder of the unstoppable force that followed. Ji Yuan gritted his teeth, pushing himself harder, his legs burning with effort, his mind fixed on the path ahead.
A flash of lightning illuminated the clearing, revealing the sheer scale of the tide. Massive beasts—deer, bears, wolves, and more—were all caught in the frantic surge, their eyes wide with terror, their bodies colliding as they stumbled over each other in their haste to escape. Ji Yuan felt a shiver run down his spine, a primal fear that gripped him as he realized the full weight of the tide bearing down on him.
He turned sharply, veering onto a side path that led deeper into Kunlun's territory, his mind racing as he calculated his options. The rain made the ground slick, each step a struggle for traction as he sprinted through the mud and underbrush. His breaths were ragged, his heart pounding as he fought to maintain his speed, every instinct within him screaming to keep going, to not look back.
A sudden roar from behind sent a jolt of terror through him. He glanced over his shoulder, catching a glimpse of a massive shadow—a predator caught up in the tide, its eyes wild, its movements erratic as it tore through the underbrush, driven forward by the same fear that gripped the entire beast tide. Ji Yuan whipped his head back around, forcing himself to focus on the path, his every sense attuned to his surroundings as he continued his desperate flight.
The forest thinned ahead, the path widening as he neared Kunlun's borders. His body screamed with exhaustion, every muscle strained to its limit, but he pushed himself onward, knowing that a moment's hesitation could mean death. He could feel the ground vibrating beneath him, the echo of the tide still pressing forward, but he refused to falter. His survival depended on his speed, his agility, and his will to keep moving, no matter the cost.
As he broke through the edge of the forest, he glanced back one final time, his chest heaving as he watched the beast tide surge onward, a relentless, unstoppable force that swallowed everything in its path. The rain continued to pour, thunder crashing above, the storm mirroring the chaos that had erupted from the Azure Mountains. Ji Yuan turned away, his expression hardened, a grim determination settling over him.
He had escaped, but the toll weighed heavy on his heart, a silent burden he would carry long after the storm had passed.
As Ji Yuan paused to catch his breath, his body trembling from the adrenaline still coursing through his veins, he became acutely aware of the eerie silence that had settled around him. The beast tide continued its relentless surge behind him, but here, in the shadowed edge of Kunlun's territory, he was alone.
The rain continued to pour, each drop feeling heavier, colder, as it mixed with the blood and mud on his face. His thoughts were turbulent, wrestling with the weight of his actions—the lives left behind, the faces of his fellow disciples who might not have escaped as he had. Guilt clawed at his mind, a bitter undercurrent that threatened to unravel his resolve.
He closed his eyes, forcing himself to breathe, to center himself amidst the chaos. Kunlun had always taught him discipline, to be unyielding, even ruthless when needed. And yet, as he stood there in the aftermath of his escape, he couldn't shake the sensation that something deeper, something beyond his control, was unfolding—a consequence of forces far greater than himself.
As thunder rolled overhead, Ji Yuan opened his eyes, gazing into the storm-darkened horizon, where the Azure Mountains loomed like silent sentinels. A strange resolve filled him then—a need to understand, to uncover what could drive a divine beast to unleash such wrath upon the land.
The beast tide roared forth like a storm made of flesh, fur, and rage, a flood of creatures surging down from the depths of the Azure Mountains. Their eyes were wild with fear and confusion, their movements frenzied as if fleeing from an unseen terror. Wolves, bears, and creatures far more ferocious—massive beasts with scaled hides and twisted horns—charged through forests, valleys, and plains, driven by the primal instinct to escape, heedless of anything in their path.
The sheer scale of the tide was unfathomable. Birds filled the sky in black, churning clouds, their shrieks piercing through the heavy rain as they darted in every direction. Deer and other swift-footed herbivores sprinted alongside massive predators that would have once hunted them. In this chaotic exodus, there were no distinctions between prey and predator—only survival, only escape.
The earth itself seemed to tremble beneath the weight of countless pounding hooves and clawed feet, the rhythmic tremors spreading across the Eastern Continent. Rivers became barriers quickly overtaken by leaping bodies; hills became obstacles they scaled with desperation. Every living creature, from the smallest rodent to the largest mountain beast, had abandoned its natural instincts to heed this singular, terrifying call to flee.
And behind them, the storm raged on, lightning cracking across the sky, illuminating the land in flashes. The air was thick with a sense of dread, as if the heavens themselves recoiled from what had been unleashed. Trees were torn from their roots, the once serene forests reduced to flattened clearings as the beast tide pushed onward, leaving devastation in its wake.
Villages scattered along the outskirts of Kunlun's territories were the first to face the encroaching tide. Farmers and villagers, caught off guard, scrambled to take shelter, locking doors, barricading windows, and gathering their families as they heard the approaching thunder of thousands of beasts. Those brave enough to venture outside to glimpse the oncoming flood stood frozen, their faces pale with horror as they watched the horizon darken with the writhing mass of creatures bearing down upon them.
In the cities and sects further inland, word of the beast tide spread like wildfire. Cultivators gathered on the walls of Kunlun, staring out across the land with grim expressions, the weight of what was coming settling heavily upon them. The sect elders sent urgent messages to reinforce their defenses, calling upon disciples to stand guard at every entry point, knowing full well that even their formidable walls might not withstand the force barreling toward them.
The beast tide was no mere migration—it was a harbinger, a testament to the ancient power that had awoken in the heart of the Azure Mountains. And as it spread across the Eastern Continent, it became clear to all who witnessed it that this was only the beginning. An unspoken fear took root in the hearts of cultivators and commoners alike, as the realization dawned that something greater than a divine beast's wrath was at play.
The first sign of the beast tide's approach was a faint tremor that rippled through the ground, like distant thunder rumbling just beneath the surface. Kunlun disciples stationed at the outer edges of the sect's territory exchanged uneasy glances, each one feeling the faint vibration beneath their feet grow stronger, steadier, with every passing second. It wasn't long before they heard it—the unmistakable roar and shriek of countless beasts, an unearthly chorus that shattered the silence of the storm-laden night.
The noise grew, a deafening cacophony of snarls and pounding paws that seemed to come from every direction. Disciples braced themselves, some clutching the hilts of their weapons with white-knuckled grips, their expressions taut with fear and determination. They strained to see through the sheets of rain and swirling mist, but the darkness only magnified their dread, hiding the approaching horde until, all at once, the beasts burst forth from the storm's veil.
Through the gloom, the disciples caught their first glimpse—a heaving mass of fur, claws, scales, and fangs, an endless wave of creatures driven mad by the Kirin's ancient curse. There were hulking, four-legged beasts with horns as thick as tree trunks, their eyes glowing red with a frenzied bloodlust. Smaller, more agile creatures slithered and leaped, their bodies covered in scales that gleamed with an unnatural sheen. Winged creatures swooped overhead, their screeches cutting through the rain, adding a layer of chaos to the fray. The beasts, no longer bound by their usual fear of human settlements, were hurtling forward, driven by a force beyond any disciple's understanding.
"Hold your positions!" bellowed a senior disciple, his voice hoarse yet resolute, barely carrying over the roar of the beasts. Around him, younger cultivators scrambled to form defensive lines, their fear visible in the tight set of their jaws and the tremble in their hands. The barriers shimmered with a faint glow as the first line of defense activated—Kunlun's famed array of spiritual talismans, designed to hold back intruders. But even as the barriers flared to life, the creatures threw themselves against them with reckless abandon, their weight and ferocity testing the strength of each ward.
The initial impact was brutal. Beasts slammed into the barriers, their claws and fangs scraping against the protective wards with a screeching sound that made the disciples wince. The talismans held, for now, the air around them crackling with energy as they absorbed the relentless onslaught. But the beasts showed no signs of stopping; instead, they surged forward with renewed fury, their sheer numbers threatening to break through by force alone.
Desperation flickered in the disciples' eyes as they unleashed their Qi attacks, each strike illuminating the darkness with brief flashes of light. Fire erupted in controlled bursts, lightning crackled through the air, and barriers of stone rose from the earth to shield the defenders. The sect's strongest cultivators hurled themselves into the fray, their attacks coordinated, the force of their combined Qi slowing the tide momentarily. Yet, it was clear the defenses were barely holding.
One disciple near the front, a younger cultivator still green from training, stumbled as a massive beast rammed against the barrier, its eyes wide with terror as cracks began to spiderweb across the shimmering wall. The senior beside him grabbed his shoulder, shouting words of encouragement, but even he wore a grim expression. They all knew that their tactics, while formidable in ordinary battles, were faltering in the face of this unnatural onslaught.
Beasts clawed and tore at the barriers, some even beginning to scale the walls with unnatural agility, forcing disciples to shift tactics. Swords flashed as cultivators slashed down from above, meeting claws with steel, but for every beast they felled, two more seemed to take its place. The smell of rain mixed with the sharp tang of blood as fallen beasts piled up against the walls, their bodies becoming obstacles that other creatures clambered over, indifferent to the carnage.
For a fleeting moment, the disciples looked to one another, their faces marked by a growing fear—could they truly hold this line? The endless sea of beasts seemed poised to sweep over them, their feral rage unstoppable, driven by something primal, something ancient, that refused to yield.
Amid the chaos, a sense of despair lingered in the air, an unspoken understanding that this was no ordinary beast wave. This was a curse born of the heavens themselves, an ancient wrath unleashed, and it would take everything Kunlun had, and more, to survive the night.