The forest was a kingdom ruled by monsters—creatures born from the primordial beast itself. Aris classified them in three terrifying levels, based on the monsters he encountered, each ranked by the energy they consumed through death. As monsters killed and fed on other creatures, their strength grew, evolving them into more dangerous forms. Their insatiable hunger was what made them relentless predators in this savage world.
The essence of their power was contained within a crystal-like object, the Essence Stone. This stone formed in the core of the monster's body over the course of its life, the culmination of everything it had consumed. But unlike the tales of treasures hidden inside beasts, this stone wasn't easily obtained. A martial artist could not simply absorb the energy contained within the stone, for to do so would turn them into mindless beasts, driven only by hunger and thirst for more blood. Instead, the stone had to be extracted, cracked open, and then used for other purposes—such as forging powerful weapons or in some sacred practices.
This was the world Aris had come to understand after his flight from the beast two months ago.
Aris took a deep breath as the memory of that fateful day flashed through his mind. He was no longer the scared boy who had run away in panic. He was something different now—sharpened by survival, honed by the raw demands of the forest.
At first, the forest had seemed like an endless expanse of danger. Every step, every rustle in the trees, made him tense, every shadow could be the next predator waiting to strike. But over the past two months, he had learned to adapt. He'd developed a routine, an intricate balance between caution and survival. It wasn't easy—nothing was—but it was necessary.
Each morning, Aris would rise with the sun, his eyes scanning the trees around him, ever watchful. He had learned quickly that the higher up in the trees he climbed, the safer he was. From his elevated perch, he could see traps that he had set the day before—primitive snares and pitfalls, some made of rope, others of sharp, bent branches. His traps were rudimentary, but they worked. He had begun by catching small creatures, demon rabbits as he called them, and over time, he grew bolder, setting traps for bigger monsters.
Each time he killed, he felt the rush of power as the Essence Stone emerged from the creature's body. He had never questioned why the stones resonated with the strange engraving on his chest, but he had begun to realize that it wasn't just his imagination. Each stone seemed to draw energy into him, filling the mark with heat and power.
He had never been able to figure out the full extent of what was happening to him. At first, he thought it was just his physical state improving—his strength, speed, and endurance all increasing as he adapted to his new life. But now, two months into his survival, he could feel something more profound at play. His body had become a vessel of some unknown power, something different from the others who lived in this world.
His routine had become meticulous. He would spend the first part of the day scouting, climbing trees to get a better view, checking his traps. If he didn't find anything, he would hunt for smaller creatures—he knew that if he didn't keep moving, the forest would swallow him whole. He had learned to drink the blood of his kills when it didn't rain, relying on the nutrients it provided to keep his body fueled. The meat would be preserved or eaten depending on the situation.
And always, he would return to the massive tree, the one he had found on the day he fled from the beast. It was his sanctuary. No monster ever approached the tree. Something about it kept them at bay, and Aris had found rest in its branches, waking up each morning feeling more refreshed than the last.
His gaze hardened as he began recounting the past two months. Two months. That's how long it had been since his first brutal encounter with the beast.
He had spent countless hours training, not just physically, but mentally. In the early days, he had hidden in the woods, waiting for smaller monsters to appear so he could strike. Every encounter made him stronger, more calculated. It was a game of patience—waiting for the right moment, the right angle.
Level One monsters, like the demon rabbits, had been easy prey. They were fast, yes, but they lacked the ferocity and strength that more powerful creatures possessed. Level Two monsters were a different story. They were harder to kill and took more effort to bring down. But he had learned to adapt to their strengths and weaknesses. His traps had grown more elaborate, and his attacks more precise.
It was the Level Three monsters that had kept him on edge. He had only encountered one—a massive, wolf-like creature that had nearly killed him that first day. It was unlike anything he had ever seen, its body large enough to take down a full-grown man with one swipe of its claws. But it was its speed, its unpredictability, that had terrified him. And its single, glowing red eye, burning with an intensity that made his heart stop in his chest.
It was that same beast that now haunted his every thought.
It had been hours since he had left the safety of the trees, and his journey had led him deeper into the forest than ever before. He wasn't sure what drove him to go further—curiosity, perhaps, or something else. Maybe it was the urge to find more, to understand his own power, to grow stronger. But now, as he stood at the edge of a dark, jagged cave, he began to regret his decision.
The cave was a labyrinth of rock and shadow, its mouth gaping open as though it had been waiting for him. He stepped inside cautiously, the air thick with the smell of damp earth and decay. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he saw them—clusters of mushrooms growing in the shadows, the promise of food.
He knelt to harvest a few when he heard the unmistakable sound of claws scraping against stone.
His heart skipped a beat. The growl that followed made his blood run cold.
The beast. It was back.
Aris's instincts screamed at him to run, but he didn't move. He lifted his head slowly, his eyes locking onto the single, glowing red orb in the distance.
The beast stood at the entrance of the cave, its massive form barely visible in the fading light. Its fur bristled with fury, and Aris could sense the bloodlust emanating from it, thick and suffocating. The creature's aura was so heavy it pressed down on him, filling the air with a palpable tension.
The wolf's growl deepened, the sound vibrating through his bones. It recognized him—the one who had taken its eye.
Aris's pulse quickened. He could feel the energy in his chest, the engraving glowing as it absorbed the power from the Essence Stones he had collected. His body tensed, his muscles coiling like a spring ready to snap. He had never felt such a surge of power, and it was enough to quell the rising fear in his heart. This time, he wasn't running.
This time, he was ready.
The air between them seemed to shimmer as the beast's red eye locked onto his, and for a brief moment, it felt as though the world held its breath. Then, with a sudden rush of energy, both the beast and Aris exuded a powerful aura that collided in the space between them.
The beast's bloodlust clashed with Aris's newfound resolve, a sharp, brutal force that seemed to crack the very air around them.
Aris's gaze hardened as his feet planted firmly on the ground. He wasn't the scared boy anymore. He was a man forged by the fires of survival, his soul burning with the will to fight.
And he would not lose this battle.