The fourth day in this new world began with an unwelcome surprise.
Axel woke to the sound of something large moving through the underbrush nearby—heavy footfalls, labored breathing, the crack of branches. His eyes snapped open, adrenaline flooding his system despite his exhausted state.
Through the morning mist, a shape emerged. At first, Axel's Earth-trained mind tried to classify it as a boar—it had the general size and build. But the similarities ended there. This creature was easily four feet tall at the shoulder, with tusks that curved like scimitars and eyes that glowed with a faint red luminescence.
A spirit beast. Had to be. Even with his limited knowledge, Axel could sense the Qi emanating from the creature—dense, aggressive, predatory.
The boar hadn't noticed him yet, too focused on rooting through the undergrowth for food. But it was between Axel and the stream, cutting off his water source and, more importantly, his best escape route.
Axel's heart hammered in his chest. He had no weapons except a sturdy branch he'd been using as a walking stick. His cultivation was barely three days old, weak enough that a strong breeze might dissipate it. And this creature radiated power that made his newly formed Qi feel like a candle flame compared to a bonfire.
Fighting was suicide. But staying hidden meant dying of thirst if the beast decided to linger.
The boar raised its head suddenly, nostrils flaring. It had caught his scent.
Red eyes locked onto Axel's position. The beast snorted, pawing at the ground with hooves that looked capable of crushing bone.
Time seemed to slow as the creature charged.
Axel's body moved on instinct—rolling sideways as the boar thundered past, its tusks missing him by inches. He scrambled to his feet, grabbing his makeshift staff, every survival instinct screaming at him to run.
But running would just trigger its chase response. He'd seen enough nature documentaries to know that.
The boar wheeled around, surprisingly fast for its bulk, and charged again.
This time Axel didn't dodge—he couldn't, his back was against a tree. Instead, he did something that felt completely insane: he gathered the tiny amount of Qi in his dantian and pushed it down into his legs, following the same pathways the energy had been using during cultivation.
His legs suddenly felt stronger, more stable.
At the last possible second, Axel sidestepped, bringing his staff around in a desperate swing aimed at the boar's head.
Wood connected with flesh with a solid thunk. The boar squealed and stumbled, more surprised than hurt. But it had worked—the Qi-enhanced blow had actually affected the creature.
The boar recovered quickly, shaking its head and turning for another charge. But now there was wariness in those glowing eyes. This prey had fought back. This prey had power, however minimal.
Axel's mind raced. He couldn't fight this thing in a straight contest. But maybe he didn't have to. The boar was strong but not particularly intelligent—it relied on brute force and intimidation.
When the beast charged again, Axel was ready. He gathered his Qi—such as it was—and at the last moment threw himself aside while swinging his staff low, aiming for the creature's front legs.
The staff cracked against bone. The boar's charge became a tumble as its legs tangled. The creature crashed into the tree behind where Axel had been standing with enough force to shake leaves from the branches.
Axel didn't wait to see if it would get up. He ran, using the Qi in his legs to push himself faster than his malnourished body should have been capable of moving. The energy burned through his reserves at an alarming rate, but speed was worth more than caution right now.
Behind him, he heard the boar's enraged squeal echo through the forest. But the sound grew fainter as he ran, suggesting the creature had decided this particular prey wasn't worth the effort.
Axel ran until his lungs burned and his Qi reserves were completely depleted, then collapsed behind a massive fallen log. He lay there gasping, his heart trying to pound its way out of his chest, equal parts terrified and exhilarated.
He'd survived. He'd actually survived an encounter with a spirit beast.
More than that—he'd used Qi in combat for the first time. It had been crude, instinctive, probably completely incorrect by any trained cultivator's standards. But it had worked.
As his breathing slowly returned to normal, Axel examined his cultivation base. The reservoir in his dantian was nearly empty, the Qi he'd accumulated over three days of careful cultivation burned through in seconds of desperate fighting.
But the capacity felt slightly larger than before. The meridians through which he'd pushed the energy felt more defined, more established. Using Qi actively, rather than just accumulating it, seemed to strengthen the pathways it flowed through.
Another data point for his growing understanding of how cultivation worked.
Axel waited until he was certain the boar wasn't following, then carefully made his way back toward the stream by a different route. His hands still shook from the adrenaline, and every sound made him flinch, but he forced himself to move with purpose.
Fear was natural. Paralysis was death.
He found a different section of the stream, filled his makeshift water container—a large leaf folded and tied with vine fiber—and retreated to a new hiding spot. The forest suddenly felt much more dangerous than it had the day before. That spirit boar probably wasn't even particularly powerful by this world's standards, yet it had nearly killed him without effort.
How many stronger creatures lurked in these woods? How many cultivators with decades of training could snuff out his life without breaking stride?
The thought was sobering and motivating in equal measure.
Axel spent the rest of the day alternating between cautious foraging and intensive cultivation. The encounter had shown him two things: first, that even his minimal Qi could make a difference in life-or-death situations. Second, that his current level of power was laughably inadequate for surviving in this world.
He needed to get stronger. Fast.
By evening, he'd managed to refill his Qi reserves to their previous levels—a process that took hours of focused meditation. The progress was frustratingly slow, but he reminded himself that he'd been cultivating for less than a week. Most people apparently took months to reach even this basic level.
As darkness fell and Axel settled into his meditation routine, he reflected on the encounter with new perspective. The boar had been terrifying, yes, but it had also been a gift of sorts. It had shown him that cultivation wasn't just about accumulating energy—it was about learning to use that energy effectively.
Power without application was useless. But even minimal power, applied correctly at the right moment, could mean the difference between life and death.
He would need to practice using his Qi actively, not just gathering it. Combat techniques, reinforcement, sensing danger—all of these were skills he'd need to develop if he wanted to survive long enough to become truly strong.
The forest night was full of sounds that no longer seemed quite as threatening. Axel had faced a spirit beast and survived. It wasn't much, but it was something.
He breathed in, drawing Qi from the world around him. His dantian filled slowly, steadily, the reservoir growing drop by precious drop.
This was Stage 1 Mid cultivation, according to the knowledge in his inherited memories. Still weak. Still vulnerable. But stronger than yesterday.
And tomorrow, he would be stronger still.
One breath at a time. One small victory at a time. That was how you built power in a world where power was everything.
Axel closed his eyes and continued his cultivation, a small smile on his face despite his exhaustion.
He was learning. He was adapting. He was surviving.
For now, that was enough.