The skies burned crimson as the heavens trembled.
A colossal serpent, its obsidian scales shimmering like molten glass, coiled through the void.
Its eyes, ancient and cold, gazed upon the swarm of cultivators circling it like vultures.
Mountains shattered under the weight of their battle, rivers boiled from unleashed energy, and the very sky cracked as if protesting the war waged within it.
The Serpent Immortal; Xirath, was cornered.
"You call this justice?" Xirath's voice rumbled like distant thunder, echoing across the realm.
"Is this how humans wage war? Striking in numbers like frightened insects?"
At the forefront of the cultivators, a man adorned in golden robes raised his blade high, its edge pulsing with divine energy.
Grand Sage Tianxu, the peak of human cultivation, met the serpent's gaze without fear.
"Justice is balance, beast. You trespassed upon forbidden realms, devoured sacred lands, and defied the Heavens!"
Xirath's laughter shook the world.
"And so you murder me for your fear. What balance is this, when gods prey upon beasts?"
Without warning, dozens of divine artifacts rained from the sky, splitting the heavens.
Swords forged from starlight, spears crackling with Unfathomable energy, and talismans brimming with ancient seals bore down upon Xirath.
Even for an immortal beast, it was too much.
The serpent roared, coiling and twisting, its tail leveling mountains, its fangs clashing against the strongest barriers.
Yet, piece by piece, its scales broke, its flesh burned, and its blood, black as ink poisoned the earth.
A final spear, the Heaven-Piercer, plunged through its skull, pinning the great serpent to the shattered land.
Silence.
The cultivators hovered above the corpse, panting, their robes torn and bloodied.
Some stared in awe; others, in fear.
Grand Sage Tianxu descended, placing a hand on the serpent's cold, dead scales.
His brows furrowed.
"Where is its core?"
They searched.
They carved its flesh and stripped its bones, and yet, no core remained.
"It can't be…" Tianxu murmured, a sliver of dread creeping into his voice.
"It destroyed its core?"
But deep within the serpent's shattered heart, a faint glow pulsed, splitting, fracturing, scattering.
Unseen by all, three fragments of the serpent's core slipped away, vanishing into the wind.
And so, the cultivators left, victorious yet uneasy.
Time passed, centuries flowed like rivers, and the battle became a legend.
But legends have a way of awakening.
...
The forest stretched endlessly, dark and unwelcoming.
Shadows clung to twisted trees as cold winds howled through the branches.
A figure moved quietly beneath the thick canopy, careful to avoid brittle twigs and loose stones.
Raen Thalor tightened his grip on the crude spear, its shaft worn smooth from use.
His breath came in ragged gasps.
Not yet. I can't give up.
At nineteen, he was nearly out of time.
In the Thalor Clan, every youth was born without a Dantian.
While other cultivators nurtured their Qi from childhood, the Thalor had no such luxury.
Their only path was through Assimilation, the dangerous ritual of binding a beast's core into themselves to forge a Dantian.
At eighteen, each youth was guided by clan elders to hunt and slay a beast that matched their spirit.
Under the elders' supervision, they would endure the brutal process of merging with the beast's core.
If successful, their cultivation path would begin.
But not Raen.
For a year, he had failed.
Beast after beast rejected him, their cores incompatible with his body.
Now, his one-year grace period was almost over.
If he couldn't assimilate a beast before his next trial, he would be cast aside.
Left to live as a powerless commoner in a world ruled by strength.
No.
Raen pushed deeper into the forest, alone.
No elders. No family.
He couldn't bear their pitying stares anymore.
His father's pendant bounced lightly against his chest as he moved, a simple cord with a black stone.
Raen's fingers brushed against it.
Father said this would protect me.
But tonight, it felt heavier.
A rustle ahead snapped him to attention.
He crouched low, eyes narrowing.
Four yellow eyes gleamed in the dark.
Wolves.
Their lean forms crept through the undergrowth, circling him. Their bodies rippled with barely restrained power.
Raen cursed under his breath.
He had been tailing a wolf cub for hours, hoping to catch it alone.
Instead, it had led him straight into the pack.
Whether by instinct or intent, it didn't matter now.
Primal Awakening Realm.
First Stage, judging by their size.
Even at their lowest stage, wolves were dangerous—especially in packs.
But tonight, Raen didn't have the luxury to choose.
The lead wolf growled, low and threatening.
Raen took a cautious step back.
Loose stones shifted beneath his heel.
Behind him, the ground sloped sharply.
A cliff.
His stomach twisted.
Cliffs in the deep forest served as natural borders, uncharted and deadly.
Few dared cross them.
The wolves lunged.
Raen's body moved on instinct.
He thrust his spear forward—
CRACK.
The brittle shaft snapped like a twig.
Claws raked across his arm, blood spraying warm and fast.
He staggered.
His foot slipped.
The world tilted.
And then he fell.
Branches tore at his skin.
Rocks slammed against his body.
Pain.
Then—
CRACK.
His body hit cold stone.
Raen groaned, barely conscious.
His limbs refused to move.
The pendant around his neck swayed loosely.
The black stone at its center had fractured.
Blood from his split lip dripped onto the crack.
PULSE.
A burning heat exploded in his chest.
Raen's eyes snapped open.
He screamed, his back arching.
It felt like molten fire was searing his veins.
The stone in his pendant shimmered faintly, then shattered.
The flames in his chest surged, rolling like a living thing.
Raen thrashed, scraping against the rock beneath him.
Then, a voice.
Ancient. Cold.
"You have been chosen."
Raen didn't react.
He didn't understand.
The fire swallowed him whole.
But then…
He stopped fighting.
His body went limp.
The energy… slowed.
It was as if it had been waiting for him to surrender.
The pain dulled into a steady thrum.
And then
---
[Serpent Core Integration: 100%]
Compatibility: Perfect
---
Another screen flickered into view.
---
[Status Screen]
Name: Raen Thalor
Race: Human (??? Hybrid)
Cultivation Realm: Primal Awakening Realm (Stage 1)
Beast Core: Fragment of the Eclipsing Fang (Dormant)
Traits: Serpent-Blooded (Locked)
Condition: Stable
---
But Raen was already unconscious.
His body lay half-submerged against the slope of the rocky ground.
One arm dangled limply into the stream flowing nearby.
Slowly, painfully, his wounds began to clot.
The bleeding slowed.
Bones settled.
Flesh knitted.
It was a sluggish, unnatural healing.
But it was healing nonetheless.
---
Raen awoke hours later.
The soft sound of water reached his ears first.
His eyelids fluttered.
He bolted upright in panic—
Only to slip and splash into the cold stream.
"Shit—!"
He scrambled to his feet, shivering.
Water dripped from his hair and clothes.
Blinking, he looked around.
The sky was pale.
The sun had begun to rise.
"It's dawn already…"
Raen's heart sank.
Had he failed?
His eyes drifted upward.
The cliff loomed above him, impossibly high.
"Did I… fall from there?"
His throat tightened.
He glanced down at himself.
Scratches and bruises, but nothing serious.
No broken bones.
I should be dead.
Raen let out a bitter laugh.
"You should've just let me die."
He muttered it to no one in particular.
The forest was silent.
But the stream flowed on.
I can't go back.
The thought echoed in his mind.
Then—
[Your hunger grows.]
Raen froze.
Glowing green text hovered before his eyes.
His stomach growled in agreement.
What… was that?
A cold sensation crept over him.
He recalled something, green letters flashing before he passed out.
He thought it had been a hallucination.
But this was real.
The forest fell eerily quiet.
Raen's breath slowed.
And something deep inside him... shifted.
Raen's stomach twisted painfully.
A sudden wave of dizziness hit him, forcing him to one knee.
His vision blurred.
Blinking through the haze, his eyes locked onto something in the dirt, the pendant.
The black stone was cracked, barely clinging to the frayed cord.
It should've been swept away by the stream, but the rope had snagged against the cliff wall, caught between water and stone.
Just like him.
Raen reached for it with trembling hands.
The cord was damp and rough as he slipped it back over his neck.
Memories swelled, sharp and suffocating.
Father…
His late father's quiet strength.
The lessons are half-learned, and promises unkept.
Mother…
Waiting for him to return, likely hiding her worry behind soft smiles.
And Selene…
His younger sister was still too young to understand what failure meant in this world.
Raen's throat tightened.
Tch…
He had failed them.
Again.
A tear slipped down his cheek, cutting through the dirt on his skin.
His grip tightened on the pendant, knuckles pale.
"What else, Dad?" he whispered hoarsely.
What am I supposed to do now?
But no answer came.
The forest remained still.
The stream kept flowing.
But resolve.
If I'm going to die, he thought bitterly, it won't be as a coward.
Better to die standing, protecting those he loved, than wasting away in shame.
His limbs ached, and his heart pounded with every shallow breath, but Raen forced himself upright.
The path home stretched before him.
His legs trembled, but he moved.
Because what was worse than death…
...was waiting for it.