Yang stood outside his cave, checking his equipment one final time. His bow was slung across his back, a collection of arrows secured in a crude quiver he'd fashioned from woven plant fibers. His stone knife and axe were tied at his waist with leather cord, bouncing slightly against his legs with each movement. And in his hand, he gripped his spear.
He made for a comical sight with all those crudely made weapons hanging from his small body. Yang was aware of how ridiculous he must look, but he shrugged it off. There was no one else here to comment on his appearance, and he'd rather be overprepared than sorry. Even that dying goat had been able to shoot a fireball that could instantly burn a hole clean through the trunk of a tree. Who knew what other types of magical powers these creatures possessed?
Yang thought back to a few days ago when he'd realized he'd slept through more than just a single day after eating the core. The confirmation had come when he'd looked at the fish hanging from his drying line. They looked considerably more dried than they should have been after only one day, their flesh darker and more shriveled than the fresh catches he'd hung the day before his hunt. That observation had sent him into a mild panic. How long had he been unconscious? Two days? Three? More?
After that realization, after understanding that he was living in a cultivation world or at least something similar to it, Yang had spent the following days testing his new abilities. He ran through the forest at full speed, feeling the way his legs carried him faster and longer than before. He jumped, clearing distances and heights that would have been impossible for him just a week ago.
He kicked and threw things, experimenting with his strength to understand its limits.
What he'd discovered was both encouraging and slightly disappointing. While he'd definitely become stronger than before, it wasn't unnaturally so. His physical abilities were still within the realm of what should be possible for a human. Maybe an adult human instead of a child as young as he was, but still within the mortal realm. Nothing superhuman or impossible to explain.
Although his legs were noticeably the strongest part of him. Yang believed that was likely because they were his most exercised and used muscles since entering the forest. He'd spent countless hours walking while looking for food, traveling back and forth from his set traps, searching for water sources, and gathering different plant fibers for his various needs. Weapons, clothes, rope, baskets. It wouldn't be wrong to say he'd used his legs more than any other part of his body since entering the forest.
Maybe the core increased strength proportional to what was already strongest, Yang theorized. That everything gained the same relative improvement, but since his legs were already more developed to begin with, they showed more noticeable enhancement than his other body parts.
Over the past few days, Yang had started actually training. Not just walking and surviving, but deliberate exercise. He ran every morning, pushing himself until his lungs burned. He jumped, trying to clear greater and greater distances. He did pushups and situps, counting each repetition. He did pullups using high tree branches, his small hands gripping the rough bark until they bled.
He'd also started binding his hands in strips of fabric from his tunic and punching tree trunks, trying to toughen his knuckles and strengthen his arms. He wasn't sure if just practicing this would work, if physical training alone could make him stronger in a world with cultivation. But even if it didn't, he could surely expect improvement if he ate another beast core. And if training did help, then he'd be that much stronger when the next opportunity came.
He'd been practicing his kicking as well, but not on tree trunks. He was strong enough now that kicking them repeatedly would damage the wood, and he didn't want to waste trees or create obvious signs of his presence. Instead, he practiced on boulders near the river. The stones held up well to his strikes, and Yang could feel his technique improving with each session.
Through all this training, he'd kept up his normal survival tasks. Catching fish in his nets, checking and resetting his traps, drying whatever meat remained after he'd eaten his fill each day. Winter was almost here. He could feel the chill in the air now, especially in the mornings and evenings. The days were getting shorter, and the nights colder.
He wanted to find more animals like that goat. Needed to, if he was going to survive winter and grow strong enough to eventually leave the forest.
Yang took his weapons outside the cave and rested the spear against the stone wall so his hands were free. He moved the logs and rocks he used to seal the entrance, positioning them carefully to block access. He didn't want any surprises when he came back. The memory of waking to find a snake in his cave was still fresh enough to make him cautious.
This was his second time going on a deliberate hunt for beasts with cores. The last time had ended in agony, his body wracked with pain as the crystal's energy tore through him. But it had also led to a spark of hope for his future and a glimpse of possibility in a life that had felt increasingly hopeless.
Otherwise, he'd just been surviving with no real path forward, no way to escape the forest or rejoin civilization. Now he had direction. A purpose.
Yang picked up his spear and began walking toward the deeper part of the forest, away from his cave and following the river.
He decided as he walked, that since he'd chosen to walk this path he would keep walking as long as he had the capability to do so. He wouldn't turn back because things got difficult or scary. He wouldn't hide in his cave waiting for life to pass him by.
Grandpa Chen had died to give him a chance at life. He wouldn't waste that gift by cowering in the dark.
As Yang made that silent vow, he felt a strange warmth in his chest. A hum of something that might have been the inner instinct acknowledging his desire and agreeing with him. Or maybe it was just wishful thinking, his mind projecting intention onto a force he still didn't fully understand.
But whether it was real or imagined, Yang felt the warmth settle into his bones like courage crystallizing into something solid and permanent. He tightened his grip on his spear and kept walking, his small figure disappearing into the deeper shadows of the forest where few humans dared to venture.
Behind him, the cave entrance stood sealed and silent.
And ahead of him lay the unknown.
Yang walked deeper into the forest, and with each step, he left behind a little more of his fear and embraced a little more of his determination. The path wouldn't be easy. It might kill him.
But at least it was a path forward, and that was more than he'd had just a week ago.