The forest was still.
Tang San crouched beneath a canopy of moss-covered roots, his breath shallow, his muscles coiled like a spring. Across the clearing, no more than thirty meters away, the Crimson-Spotted Vine Panther prowled near a shallow stream, lapping water cautiously. Every so often, its crimson-spotted tail flicked. Its emerald eyes scanned the underbrush. Even while drinking, it never let down its guard.
It had sensed him before.
And it would again—if he wasn't careful.
Tang San's fingers brushed across the forest floor, feeling the subtle tremors through the dirt. He had studied the Panther's movement patterns for four days now. It was territorial, precise, and quick to anger. But also methodical. It always looped the same arc at dusk and again near dawn.
This was his chance.
And there would not be another.
---
Preparation
Tang San silently unrolled a leather pouch, revealing small throwing needles dipped in his self-made paralyzing venom. Weak on humans. But effective enough to stall a spirit beast for a few seconds.
That's all he needed.
He took a deep breath and activated the first spirit ring.
Blue Silver Grass emerged from his body like an awakening serpent, unfurling silently from his palms. The thin vines coiled across the ground, sinking slightly into the soil as they slithered ahead. They remained still, hidden beneath leaves.
He did not rush.
Every motion had purpose.
Every breath held discipline.
He was not here to overpower the Panther.
He was here to outlast it.
---
The Engagement
With a sudden twitch, the Panther lifted its head. Its ears flicked.
It sniffed the air.
Then—
A blur of motion.
It bolted toward Tang San's hiding spot with blinding speed, leaves erupting behind it.
Tang San didn't panic. His body moved on instinct.
He rolled out from the roots just as claws tore through the place he'd been crouching. His Blue Silver Grass shot out in a crisscross, lashing at the beast's paws and trying to entangle its limbs.
The Panther snarled. Vines wrapped around its back leg, slowing it—but only for a second. With a violent twist, it tore free.
Too strong to bind directly…
Tang San flipped backward, his hands weaving in circular motions. A second wave of Blue Silver Grass launched—not at the beast, but at the surrounding trees.
The vines coiled around trunks, anchoring him. As the Panther pounced again, he used the tension to pivot and slingshot himself out of reach, throwing a needle mid-air.
Thunk!
The needle embedded into the Panther's shoulder.
It staggered—but didn't fall.
The venom was weak.
Still, it was enough.
Tang San landed behind a thick boulder, hand pressing against his chest. His spirit energy surged, drawn by the Mysterious Heaven Technique. The recovery was quick—quicker than it should've been for someone who had just evaded a Spirit Beast of nearly 900 years.
The Panther lunged around the rock—
Only to be slammed by three thick vines that erupted from the underbrush beneath it.
Tang San had laid them earlier.
The beast roared, momentarily stunned.
He used the chance to leap forward, delivering a precise strike with a spirit-concealed dagger, aimed not at the vitals—but the tendons in its hind legs.
The Panther howled.
Its movements slowed.
Tang San backed off instantly, not pushing for the kill.
Patience.
---
Adaptation
The battle lasted ten minutes.
Then fifteen.
Tang San weaved between trees, using terrain, traps, and carefully timed attacks to weaken the Panther slowly.
He never tried to overpower it.
He out-thought it.
Each strike was calculated.
Each retreat deliberate.
His Mysterious Heaven Technique ensured his energy never depleted too quickly. And the black stone, fused within his chest, veiled his energy fluctuations. Even the Panther, a creature attuned to aura, seemed to misread him at times—lunging when he had already moved, hesitating when he was vulnerable.
It was subtle.
But it saved his life more than once.
And then—
An opening.
---
Final Strike
The Panther, bleeding from three shallow cuts and snarling with exhaustion, limped as it pounced one final time.
Tang San didn't dodge.
He met it.
Blue Silver Grass exploded from his palm, wrapping its throat and shoulders, pulling tight as he fell backward, using his momentum to throw the beast mid-air into a jagged branch.
CRACK!
The beast howled as the branch pierced its flank.
Still alive—but immobilized.
Tang San landed hard, his back slamming into a root.
He crawled forward, panting, then pressed the dagger against the Panther's heart.
Its eyes met his.
Fierce.
Proud.
Then still.
Tang San lowered his weapon slowly as the Panther's spirit essence began to rise—a shimmering light, deep crimson in color, coalescing into a ring.
---
The Second Ring
Tang San sat cross-legged near the still body.
The red ring hovered above it, pulsing with spiritual power.
His breathing calmed.
He reached toward it.
As the spirit ring began descending toward him, his Blue Silver Grass resonated. But so too did the black stone.
It pulsed.
Once.
Then again.
And as the spirit ring connected with his body, a faint shimmer of obsidian light spread across his chest. The ring trembled—but did not resist. Instead, it fused with Tang San's first ring perfectly, enhancing its strength.
But something was different.
Unlike the first time, there was no visible manifestation of energy around him. No shockwaves. No glowing aura.
The black stone swallowed all fluctuations.
He felt the change—but the world could not.
Tang San opened his eyes after a full hour.
His spirit energy was denser. His Blue Silver Grass was faster, more precise, and now bore faint red streaks through its vines.
But more importantly…
He was now a Spirit Grandmaster.
Level 20.
---
Reflection
That night, Tang San returned to his camp, cleaned his wounds, and stared into the forest sky.
He wasn't happy.
He wasn't proud.
But he was calm.
This was the path he had chosen.
And it was only the beginning.
---
End of Chapter 23