The pack did not wait.
The moment Tianhan lowered his stance, the first wolf exploded out of the mist—its speed sharp enough to tear apart any cultivator at the Bone-Refining Realm. But Tianhan's hand moved a heartbeat before the beast reached him.
Devil's Claw—Straight Strike.
His five fingers speared forth like cold blades, wrapped in a faint demonic aura. They pierced through the wolf's jaw, slicing upward until they shattered its spine.
A crisp crack.
The beast collapsed. No howl. No final struggle.
But the sight of blood sent the rest into a frenzy.
Five wolves leapt at once—from the front, from the sides, a single wave of fur and fangs meant to drown him.
Tianhan did not retreat.
He lowered his body, stamped the ground with all the power he had, and launched himself upward. His right hand clamped onto the neck of one wolf, while his left hand dug mercilessly into the eye socket of another.
One screamed, but Tianhan didn't hear it.
He heard only his heartbeat.
That slow, steady thrum…
Calm yourself, Tianhan. Control it.
He landed, but there was no time to breathe. A third wolf lunged from behind, its jaws snapping toward his throat. The old Tianhan would have died here.
But his body moved on its own.
His head tilted aside by a hair's breadth, and his left hand shot backward, his thumb gouging into the wolf's eye.Its scream tore the silence.
He wrenched it down by its scruff and slammed its skull into the ground.
Thud.
Unconscious instantly.
This was his first true battle—The first without the blood taking over—The first where weakness gnawed at his joints, where pain pulsed with every strike—
Yet he did not stop.
And then… the fog parted.
A beast larger than the rest stepped out. Its muscles thick, its aura stained with a dark red glow—
The pack leader.
It opened its jaws and loosed a howl that rattled Tianhan's skull.
His muscles stiffened.
This creature… was different.
It lunged forward, claws extended, fangs like daggers. Tianhan raised an arm to block—but the force behind the blow hurled him backward, smashing him against a boulder.
His breath was stolen.
A beast of the Second Tier.
He barely had a heartbeat before it attacked again.
Tianhan raised his arms to guard his head—but the beast's bite tore through his left shoulder, blood spraying in an arc.
He dropped to one knee.
Death was close.
And then…
A heat surged inside his bones.
The cultivation art gifted by the blood—the one he still had not mastered—awakened.
Bone-Shattering Fist.
His body moved without his permission.His right fist clenched, gathering the last remnants of strength in his marrow.
He roared:
"BONE—SHATTERING—FIST!"
And struck.
BOOOOM!
The air quaked.The wolf's chest caved in like rotted wood.Its body flew, rolled, and fell motionless.
Silence.
A long, heavy silence.
Tianhan rose slowly, every limb shaking, blood dripping from his shoulder, his brow, his mouth.But he stood.
This… this was his first true battle fought by himself.
And for the first time… he understood:
His strength was no accident.
He began his climb.
The rocks turned harsher, the slopes steeper, the mist denser. The higher he climbed, the more beasts watched him from the shadows. The first two days were a slow, grinding massacre.
Wolves.Spirit boars.Stone apes.
All Tier One.
He slept mere hours, each rest taken with a fresh wound carved into him.
On the ninth day, he faced his first true Second-Tier beast—A stone-skinned tiger.
He didn't even consider fighting.
He ran.
He ran until his lungs tore, until he fell twice from high ledges, slamming his back, shoulder, knee—
But the tiger did not stop.
For three hours it hunted him.
Only when he wedged himself into a narrow rock fissure too small for the beast did he survive.He spent minutes listening to the creature clawing above him, its fury shaking the stones.
That day taught him something vital:
Not everything can be killed.
After that, he avoided Tier Two.He fought only what he could defeat.
And he killed many.So many that sometimes…
He forgot the faces of the beasts he cut down.Sometimes…
He forgot himself.
Months passed.
His body hardened.The Devil's Claw reached its second stage.The Bone-Shattering Fist grew heavier, deadlier.
His senses sharpened.
After one year, the scars webbed across his back, chest, and arms.After two, he could smell a beast before it emerged from the shadows.After three full years—
He stood at the final ledge.
The sun rose behind him, burning away the mist, revealing the summit at last:
A small stone plateau.A single frail spirit tree growing at the edge.A quiet field suspended amid the clouds.
He had reached it.
After three years…
He climbed to the top.
Tianhan stood there, the wind pulling at his crimson hair—now darkened by dust, blood, and countless battles.
He whispered:
"I finally reached it…"
This was the beginning of something far greater than he ever imagined.