Chapter One – Alone But Never Afraid
The last thing I remember is the smell of weed, smoke, and the taste of Wrey's on my lips. London was home, and I was 26 years old—a place of noise and chaos, but it was home. Me (De-Reece) and my brothers, Conan and Thaddeus, had just wrapped up a long day of caveman living in the wild—or at least, that's what we liked to call it. Fishing, hunting, and cooking anything we could over a fire. Daring each other to do stupid shit, winding each other up. Thaddeus, being the youngest, got the most of it, but he held his own. The night was warm, with a cool but not cold summer breeze. The stars were bright, and it couldn't have been a better night to have fun.
At least, that's how it was supposed to be... until we found the cave.
I figured it would just be one of those normal days—messing about, daring each other to do stuff.
When we stepped into that cave, it was nothing like what we expected. The air inside was damp and cool, but there was a strange energy, almost like the very stones themselves had been infused with something ancient. It was dark at first, but we managed to make our way deeper with just the light from our fire. The walls were rough, and the smell of old earth and metal filled the air. We thought we were just exploring, expecting nothing more than some dusty old rocks or maybe a bat or two. But what we found—what we stumbled upon—was something else entirely.
In the centre of the cave, nestled against a bed of moss-covered stones, lay a set of objects, gleaming in the dim light like they were waiting for us. The first thing that caught my eye were the two rings. They weren't just ordinary rings—they were massive, almost comically so, but in the kind of way that demanded attention. Their bands were thick, made of a heavy, silvery metal that shimmered in the firelight. But it wasn't just the material that was striking—it was the intricate designs etched into the surface. There were swirling patterns, like vines or flames, curling around each ring. And the centre of each ring held a large, blood-red gemstone, polished to a perfect gleam. It looked like a ruby, but with an otherworldly glow to it, as though something deep within was alive.
Conan picked up one of the rings first. His fingers were almost swallowed by the size of it, but when he slid it onto his finger, the gemstone seemed to pulse, just once, before settling into a quiet, steady glow. I remember the look on his face—like he knew something had just changed. Something had just chosen him.
Thaddeus, being Thaddeus, immediately grabbed the other ring. He was the smallest of the three of us, but that ring fit him like it had been made for him. As he held it up to the firelight, the ruby shimmered like it was alive, casting strange reflections off the walls. It almost felt like the cave itself was watching us.
Then there was the pendant. My pendant. It was smaller, but no less significant. Unlike the rings, it wasn't made of metal but of some smooth, jet-black material that looked like obsidian. It had a deep sheen, like it was absorbing the light around it, and the weight of it felt... important. The pendant itself was carved into the shape of a dragon coiling around a circular gemstone, not a ruby, but a swirling black opal that seemed to capture every color in the room. It was mesmerizing, almost hypnotic. The moment my fingers brushed against it, I felt a strange pulse of energy—not from the pendant itself, but from the world around me. A hum, almost as if the very air had shifted.
When I touched the pendant, it was as if the universe itself had aligned. There was no reason for it. No logic to it. But the moment it rested in my palm, something clicked. It felt like it was meant for me—like it had always been mine, as if I had been chosen to carry it.
I stared down at the pendant in my hand, and everything around me seemed to fall silent. A strange calm washed over me, but just as quickly, the peace shattered, replaced by a sharp pain in my head. I shook it off, blinking as the light from the fire flickered—only to realize the fire wasn't the same anymore.
Suddenly, I wasn't standing in the cave anymore.
I was back by the fire, sitting on the cold ground, with Conan and Thaddeus still laughing beside me, the familiar scent of weed and the warmth of the flames wrapping around me once more. The strange pulsing energy from the pendant still tingled on my skin, but I was back. I looked around, disoriented, the cave was now gone from my mind as if it had never existed.
Conan raised an eyebrow at me, noticing the confused look on my face. "You good, bro? You spaced out there for a second."
Thaddeus snickered, passing me a blunt. "Probably just the weed, man. You hit that last one too hard."
I took a deep breath, glancing down at the pendant still in my hand. It was real, I knew that. It had to be. And yet everything felt... too normal. Too ordinary.
Wrong.
And then I woke up in this forest.
I knew this wasn't some joke my brothers had cooked up. This was a forest, unlike anything I'd ever seen. Massive trees, strange smells, and something that I couldn't quite put my finger on—it was just off. I'm not just talking about the usual feeling of being watched when you're in the woods. The air felt different. Like there were almost vibrations, a crackling energy to it. And I could feel it—eyes watching me. Not normal forest creatures. My body exuded something strange—almost a sense of danger.
I ran my hand through my thick dreadlocks. The strands brushed against my muscular frame. At six-foot-four, I'm used to standing out, even back in London. My size and strength were something to be reckoned with. But here? Here I could feel the difference. My body felt supercharged—more than just increased muscle growth or ordinary strength. Something my old gym workouts could never prepare me for. Maybe it's something to match this new, strange world I'd fallen into?
And then there's the pendant. I don't know how, but I still have it. Even though I don't have much on, (just my cloak I was wearing at the fire, my Timberlands, a dark top, a pair of fur trousers and my trusty zombie knife I keep for any bears or wolves I laughed inwardly. but it's with me, and it feels like it's meant to be. I don't know what these artefacts mean or how they brought me here, but it's connected to me now. The rings? Conan and Thaddeus? Gone. I have no idea where they are or if they're even alive.
Back home, I'd think about that. But right now, my priority is survival. And then, finding them.
This forest doesn't seem to care about my problems. There's danger here, and my body feels it. It vibrates from every pore in my being. I can feel it in my bones.
Creatures of all shapes and sizes could be roaming this area. I had this new power brimming inside of me and my trusty zombie knife but still, they're more than capable of tearing me apart if I'm not careful. I've read about these things. Heck, me and my brothers spent thousands of hours studying cultivation novels, Mangas, and wuxia stories, and learning about the world of Murim. The way to control Qi—it all comes rushing back to me, all the years of reading and watching. I know how to fight maybe not here but soon enough. I know how to control my body my years of boxing and martial arts experience, plus barely missing a workout had left me in good shape. I know how to gain power. I need to figure out how it all works in this world—a world where the rules of reality bend in ways I can barely comprehend. There are so many cultivation systems, which one could it possibly be?
I pull my cloak tight around me, the cold wind biting against my skin, but my body feels stronger, alive in a way it never did back in London. Maybe it's this world. Maybe the power that pulses inside me now. Either way, I've got to keep moving. Every moment I waste is another moment my brothers could be in danger. And I have no idea where they are or how the hell we even got here. But now, I'm not leaving this place without them.
I see a path ahead. These beasts here might be low-levelled if I'm lucky, but they're still dangerous if I'm not prepared. I will die if I'm careless. But I wasn't born to hide or cower in fear.
I'm here to survive. And I will make my mark in this world.
The path ahead was rough and uneven, roots twisting out from the earth like gnarled fingers, and the air was thick with an unsettling silence. Every step echoed louder than it should have, the crunch of leaves and twigs beneath the Timberlands sounding like gunshots in the stillness. The zombie knife, once a tool for show or for the rare, unlucky wolf in some forgotten forest in the UK, now felt heavier—not from its weight, but from the weight of expectation. This was a weapon for survival.
A foreign, electric pulse surged through his veins—an energy that wasn't from the pendant or any external force. It was something inside him, something he didn't recognize. Each step felt sharper, more precise, as though his body was adapting to this strange world. Muscles that had once been built through routine gym sessions now seemed supercharged—faster, stronger—like running on a higher gear without realizing it.
Why am I moving like this? he thought. This isn't just a boost in strength—it's like my whole body has shifted into something... more.
A growl.
Low, guttural, and too close.
He froze.
The bushes to the left rustled, and a pair of glowing yellow eyes emerged from the darkness. A creature, something straight out of the murim stories he used to read, slinked into view. It was wolf-like, but its body was too long, too sinewy, with jagged patches of dark fur and rows of bony spikes running along its spine. Its claws glimmered like obsidian, sharp enough to slice through flesh and bone.
A Wolf of this world.
Not a pup, but a young male—its movements still held a hint of awkwardness, though the raw aggression in its gaze was anything but immature. A low-level murim beast, he guessed, but still more than enough to kill him if he wasn't careful.
He took a slow step back, keeping the knife steady and his breathing calm. The Wind Wolf bared its fangs, a long string of saliva dripping from its maw. Its body lowered, muscles rippling beneath its ragged fur, preparing to lunge.
"Alright," he muttered under his breath, "just like the novels. Move with intent. Strike fast. No hesitation."
The beast pounced.
He sidestepped, but it wasn't smooth—too fast, too strong. His body reacted quicker than his mind could process, and the sudden burst of speed almost threw him off balance. Still, he managed to lash out with the knife, slicing a deep gash across its shoulder. Wisps of blood haze drifted from the wound, curling in the air like smoke. The creature howled, a sound so sharp and unnatural that it made his bones vibrate.
This isn't right. I shouldn't be this fast.
The Wolf lunged again, but this time he met it head-on. He ducked under its swipe, driving the knife into its ribcage. It screeched, its claws raking across his cloak, tearing fabric but missing flesh. With a growl of his own, he twisted the blade deeper, feeling the beast shudder—but it didn't collapse.
Instead, it thrashed wildly, knocking him off balance. His back hit the ground hard, and before he could react, the Wolf was on him again, snapping its jaws inches from his face. He shoved his forearm into its throat, keeping its fangs at bay, but the creature's strength was shocking. His muscles screamed, but the strange energy coursing through him flared again—untamed, wild—but it gave him the push he needed.
Move! Don't die here!
Roaring, he used his free hand to grab the knife still lodged in its side and yanked it free, stabbing upward into its neck. Blood sprayed, the crimson haze spiralling into the air, and finally, the beast went limp, collapsing onto him.
The Wolf's lifeless body slumped to the ground, its final snarl frozen on its bloodied maw. Silence followed, save for the ragged sound of my own breathing, each inhale dragging the cold air into my burning lungs. I stood there, chest heaving, my muscles a screaming symphony of pain and exhaustion. The battle had been brutal — a relentless clash of instinct and confusion — and though the wolf was young, it had pushed me close to my limits.
I staggered back a step, my fingers still white-knuckled around the hilt of my zombie knife, its edge slick with the beast's dark blood. My mind spun, but before I could gather my thoughts, something else hit me.
A rush.
It started in my chest — a sudden, violent surge of energy that shot through my body like a jolt of electricity. It wasn't the slow burn of adrenaline I knew from the scraps back in the city; this was raw, untamed, and utterly foreign. The energy didn't just pulse through me — it stormed. I could feel it racing down my arms, curling through my fingers, spiraling in my legs. For a moment, I thought I'd collapse, but instead... I stood straighter.
What the hell is this?
My vision sharpened, every detail of the forest suddenly coming into unbearable focus — the swaying of distant leaves, the minute shifting of shadows, the faintest flicker of movement from insects crawling along the ground. The air itself seemed thicker, heavier, like I could reach out and grab it.
The wolf's blood pooled at my feet, dark wisps of blood haze rising faintly from the wound, dissipating into the night like smoke. Was this... part of the kill? Was this the price of taking a life in this world?
And then, a whisper of a thought — not a craving, but an awareness. The energy was more than just power; it was possibility. Each pulse through my veins felt like a door cracking open, a glimpse into something greater, something more. This world wasn't bound by the rules I knew — here, strength mattered. Power defined everything.
I gritted my teeth, trying to steady myself, but the power coursing through me refused to calm. Every muscle in my body vibrated with a strange tension — not pain, not fatigue — something else entirely. Something new.
I looked down at my hands, flexing my fingers, watching the slight tremor in them. It was like my body was responding to something unseen — an invisible current flowing through me, pushing me beyond what I thought I could handle.
What the hell is happening to me?
A part of me didn't care. This world was different. Ruthless. But here, I wasn't just a nobody. Here, strength wasn't just survival — it was freedom.
The pendant against my chest remained cold and inert, offering no answers.
I wasn't the same anymore. This world was changing me — with or without my permission.
Then there was more rustling.
Two more pairs of glowing yellow eyes emerged from the darkness, their forms larger and more muscular than the first. Adolescent Wolves. Older, more experienced, but not yet fully grown. They stepped into the moonlight, their fur rippling with each predatory movement, and I felt the air grow heavier.
My body, still buzzing from the rush of energy, responded before my mind could. The knife in my hand felt lighter now, an extension of myself rather than just a tool.
The first wolf lunged — faster than the last — and I barely managed to pivot, its claws raking across my side. Pain flared instantly, a sharp line of fire tearing through my ribs, but I didn't have time to dwell on it. The second wolf was already moving, circling me, teeth bared.
Blood dripped from my wound, but the energy inside me surged again — reckless and unyielding. My heart pounded a brutal rhythm against my ribs as I met the first wolf's attack head-on. I ducked under its swipe and slashed my blade across its flank, earning a furious snarl.
The second wolf darted in, aiming for my legs. I twisted, but not fast enough — its jaws clamped down on my calf, sending a white-hot burst of pain through me. Gritting my teeth, I drove the knife into its shoulder, forcing it to release me with a yelp.
Move. Don't stop.
I staggered back, blood seeping into my torn pants, but the wolves didn't relent. They pressed the attack, one aiming high, the other low — a coordinated assault. It wasn't instinctual; it was practiced.
Desperation fueled me now. The energy roaring through my veins pushed me to move faster, hit harder. I slashed wildly, catching the first wolf's muzzle, and kicked out at the second, sending it stumbling back.
The fight was a brutal dance — a blur of teeth, claws, and blood. My blood.
Back against the hard bark of the tree, I cursed under my breath. "Shit. This isn't how it's supposed to start. Shouldn't I run into a damn demon rabbit or something?"
The pain gnawed at me — ribs burning, leg throbbing. I had taken too much damage fighting these wolves. Any more, and I'd struggle to move at all.
The wolves continued to circle, calculating, patient. Their glowing eyes locked onto me, waiting for the moment to strike.
Then — an opening.
As the first wolf lunged, I sidestepped and drove my knife deep into its neck, twisting the blade until it gurgled and collapsed.
The second wolf hesitated, a flicker of fear in its eyes. I seized the moment, ignoring the searing pain in my leg, and tackled it to the ground, stabbing down with every ounce of strength I had left.
It let out a final, agonized howl before going still.
Silence fell once more.
I knelt there, bloodied and gasping for air, my wounds burning like fire — but I was alive.
And the power still pulsed within me, stronger than before.
The pain in my side and leg screamed louder now, but I forced myself to move. I needed somewhere to regroup, somewhere higher — safer. My gaze landed on a nearby tree, tall and sturdy, its branches reaching into the night sky.
Gritting my teeth, I limped over and used my knife to carve footholds into the bark. Every movement sent flares of pain through me, but I pressed on, scaling the tree inch by inch until I reached a thick branch, high above the ground. I slumped against the trunk, knife still in hand, and let out a shuddering breath.
I needed to control this energy — this foreign force running rampant through my body. If the stories from the murim and wuxia novels I used to read were even half true, then I had to start somewhere.
Closing my eyes, I focused inward, trying to guide the wild current within me. I pictured the qi nodes I had read about — points in the body where energy gathered and flowed. The dantian just below the navel, the heart node at the centre of the chest, the baihui at the crown of the head, and the various minor nodes along the limbs — intersections of invisible pathways.
But those were just the nodes — reservoirs of power. The real challenge lay in the meridians, the channels connecting them. If my energy was like a river, then the meridians were the canals guiding its flow. Right now, those canals felt clogged, blocked by invisible barriers. The energy stormed within me, chaotic and directionless.
I grit my teeth and pushed the energy harder, forcing it to move through one of the main meridians — the yangwei, running from my lower abdomen up my spine. It resisted, like trying to shove a boulder through a narrow tunnel. The pain in my side flared again, but I didn't stop.
Breathe. Focus.
I visualized the meridian path, tracing it with my mind, willing the energy to surge forward. The resistance built to a breaking point — and then, like a dam bursting, something gave way.
A meridian point snapped open in my left shoulder.
A flood of energy roared through me, racing up my spine like liquid fire. The pain momentarily disappeared, replaced by a burning heat that spread through my limbs. My vision blurred, the world spinning, but the flow was no longer stagnant. It moved — wild, yes — but it moved.
The wound on my side still ached, but I felt a faint tingling around it — the energy now scraping against the edges of my injury, as though testing the boundaries of what it could mend. My breathing slowed, heart still pounding, but steadier now.
I didn't know if this was truly 'qi' or something else entirely… but it was mine now.
And I was going to master it.
The last of my strength ebbed away, the adrenaline crash hitting me like a falling stone. My head lolled back against the tree, the faint glow of the moon filtering through the branches above. The world tilted, the pain dulled, and my thoughts grew distant.
There was no way I was dying before I found my brothers.
And with that final, stubborn thought, I let sleep claim me.