At the edge of a dark, jagged cave stood a boy, no older than ten or eleven. His appearance was striking—black hair streaked with strands of green and blue that fell just above his shoulders. A simple handmade necklace rested against the black sect uniform he wore, its intricate spider insignia identifying him as a disciple of the Venomthread Sect, one of the south's most feared demonic cultivation sects.
His uniform was slightly messy, the faint tears betraying his struggles over the last couple of days.
The most striking thing about him, however, was his arm—or rather, the lack of one. Where his right arm should have been was a stump, ending just above the elbow.
Luckily, he still had his left arm, which clutched a lantern, its dim glow flickering weakly against the dark forest around the cave entrance. The faint light illuminated his hand, revealing a strange, ominous spider tattoo etched into his skin. Without hesitation, he stepped into the cave.
Each step echoed softly off the stone walls. At first, everything seemed normal, but as he moved deeper, his breath began to form faint, swirling mist in the air, catching his attention. A shiver ran down his spine, and he glanced at his arm, the lantern's dim glow revealed goosebumps rising on his skin.
The boys movements became slightly stiffer with each step as the cave got colder and colder the further he entered.
As he pressed on, the icy chill intensified, and a faint blue glow became visible in the distance, growing brighter with every step. His grip on the lantern tightened. At the far end of the cave was the source of the light, crystalline petals on an icy flower.
The Frostdew Flower.
It was the reason the boy had come here. But the flower wasn't alone. Curled protectively around the glowing bloom, was a massive creature. Its fur, streaked with white and gray, shimmered faintly in the lantern light. It was an Icefang Bear. The boy paused, his breath steadying as his sharp gaze locked onto the scene.
Afraid to damage the flower once a fight broke out, he crouched low, the shadows hiding his small frame as he picked up a rock.
In one fluid motion, he hurled it toward the bear, where it struck with a loud crack. The boy winced. He had aimed for the bear, not the wall he had actually hit. A wry smile tugged at his lips despite the tension. Good thing no one saw that.
Nevertheless the noise caused the bear's eyes to snap open. It lifted its massive head, sniffing the air and swung its gaze around the cave. A low, guttural growl escaped the bear as it spotted the intruder not far away.
Rising to its feet with alarming speed, the beast bristled, trying to jump on the intruder.
But the boy was ready. Though his heart jumped, his legs moved faster. He turned and bolted toward the cave entrance. Behind him, the bear's heavy steps thundered, growing louder with each stride as it pursued him.
Once the unlikely duo reached the outside, the boy skidded to a stop, spinning to face the charging bear. In one swift motion, he dropped the lantern, and bend down.
He reached for his knife—a simple, unadorned blade he'd been hiding in his right boot, the lack of a proper sheath forcing his improvisation.
But the bear didn't wait.
Before he could fully ready himself, the beast lunged, its claws gleaming in the dim glow of the fallen lantern. The boy's instincts screamed, and he darted to the side, narrowly avoiding the swipe. A bead of sweat traced down his face as he glanced at the deep furrows left in the earth where he had stood just moments before.
Without a moments delay the bear charged at the boy again. Unable to dodge in time, the boy dropped the dagger, braced himself and planted his feet firmly into the ground. As the beast lunged he raised his only arm grabbing at the bears foreleg and entering into a challenge of strength.
The impact was jarring, his feet sliding slightly against the dirt, but he held his ground. For a brief moment, they struggled against each other. The boy's muscles strained as the bear growled low, matching his resistance with brute force.
For an instant, it seemed as though they were evenly matched.
Then the bear let out an angry snarl and swiped with at the boy with his other paw. The boy's eyes widened, and he ducked low, narrowly avoiding the deadly claws. His heart pounded as he rolled past and grabbed the dagger lying on the ground.
He was well aware, that even though he had raw strength surpassing the average human, his endurance wasn't too special. He wouldn't survive a single direct hit.
As if to prove that theory, the bear turned, not giving the boy a chance to breathe, as it sent another swipe his way. But this time the boy was prepared. He ducked low, stabbing upward into its leg as he rolled past. The knife, though seemingly simple, cut deep without resistance, sinking into the thick hide.
The bear let out an enraged roar, shaking its massive frame as blood dripped from the wound. Its eyes burned with fury as it launched itself at the boy again.
As the fight dragged on, the boy's chest rose and fell in ragged breaths, as his limbs seemed to become heavier and heavier. Meanwhile the bear's rage intensified. Deep cuts marred the beast's fur, staining the white and gray with streaks of crimson. But the boy knew it wasn't enough. The bear was as relentless as when the fight had begun.
Suddenly, the bear, furious at the slippery intruder who had continued to wound it, threw its head back and let out a deafening roar, its voice echoing through the trees like a storm unleashed.
The boy's eyes narrowed. Now.
Summoning every ounce of focus, he burst forward with a sudden, explosive speed. The world blurred for an instant, his body moving faster than the bear could react. Before it could lower its head, he closed the distance and with a jump drove his dagger deep into the beast's throat.
The bear's roar turned to a sickened gurgle as the blade found its mark, blood spilling in thick rivulets across its white-streaked fur.
Relief washed over the boy, as he looked at the dying bear, his grip loosening on the dagger's hilt. He stepped back, a faint smile tugging at his lips as his body finally allowed itself to relax.
But before he could close his eyes to take a break, he saw the bear move again. With a final, desperate lunge, its massive paw lashed out in its death throes. The boy's instincts screamed at him, and he jerked backward just in time to avoid a fatal blow—but not fast enough to escape completely.
The bear's claws raked across his chest, tearing through his robe and biting into his skin. Pain exploded in sharp, burning waves as blood splattered the ground. He staggered back, clutching his chest, his breath hitching as he steadied himself.
For a moment, he simply stood there, the throbbing pain anchoring him to the moment. He glanced down at the bloody claw mark across his chest, and then flicked towards the bear now collapsed on the ground. A grim smile flickered across his face.
"I did it," he muttered under his breath.
He'd gotten careless at the end, but right now, he didn't even care. For the first time in what felt like forever, it felt like something went right. Even the pain from his injury seemed pleasent to him right now.
In fact, the boy welcomed the pain. It helped distract him from the thoughts that usually haunted him day and night. It was real, physical pain. It burned, it throbbed, but in a strange way, it was comforting.
For just a moment, the ache inside him quieted, replaced by the strangely sweet pain in his chest.
Then the boy collected his breathing. Pulling himself upright, he stepped toward the fallen bear, his hand tightening around the hilt of the dagger still lodged in its throat. With a firm pull, he retrieved it, the blade slick with crimson.
He glanced at the dagger, its weight solid in his hand. That last burst of speed had been the deciding factor—a trump card he'd kept close. Extreme Speed. That was what he'd named it. It was a divine ability related to his bloodline.
It allowed him to double his speed instantly, but only for three fleeting seconds. Though powerful, the ability came with harsh limits. Using it pushed his body to its brink, leaving him drained. A second activation within the same week was impossible—his body simply couldn't withstand it. Yet, despite its constraints, it was undeniably a powerful tool in his arsenal and the only reason he had dared to confront the bear on his own.
Shaking his head, the boy wiped the dagger clean on the bear's fur before tucking it back into his boot. He stepped over to the lantern, its soft glow flickering against the darkened forest, and picked it up. The dim light illuminated the path back into the beast's lair.
Once inside, he wasted no time. The Frostdew Flower—the very reason for this fight—stood in radiant beauty at the center of the cave. Kneeling carefully, he cupped the crystalline bloom in his hand and carefully stuffed it into a beforehand prepared case.
This was it. With this flower, he could take the final step into the first true realm of cultivation. The possibilities would open up—mystic abilities like conjuring water or igniting flames would no longer be dreams, but realities.
With his prize secured, there was no reason to linger. The boy slipped out of the cave and retraced his steps through the forest. The journey back felt quicker, though every sound around him kept his senses sharp. Roughly fifteen minutes later, the thick canopy of trees began to thin.
Emerging from the shadows of the forest, his gaze settled on a towering gate ahead, its imposing frame marking the entrance to the Venomthread Sect. This was his home—at least for the past few months since he joined. Or rather, was forced to join.