Chapter 42: The First Kill
Seeing Wu Yuan still able to compose himself, Lei Hanwu's brows furrowed in irritation. The flicker of playfulness in his expression had long vanished. Now, only ruthless intent remained.
"Tch. Still standing? Then die standing."
Without further warning, Lei Hanwu lunged forward.
The lightning blade—formed from compressed qi particles and shaped by his battle technique—gleamed faintly with a cerulean hue. Though the thrust seemed simple, even graceful, its force carried the intent of finality. The air hissed as the blade tore through it, faster than a human eye could follow.
But Wu Yuan didn't flinch.
Instead, he exhaled slowly, drawing every ounce of strength, focus, and instinct into his right fist. Lightning essence—tempered into his muscles, his bones, his marrow—shuddered and surged forward, guided not by technique alone but by sheer will. It was not pure qi, not yet. But it was his.
He stepped forward, arm twisting, and threw a punch toward the incoming blade.
Fist met lightning.
And the world cracked.
The collision was like two rampaging spirit beasts slamming into each other—thunder exploded outward, shaking the very ground beneath them, sending a concussive shockwave rippling across the training field. Dirt blasted into the air. A dozen nearby trees groaned and splintered.
Wu Yuan's wrist bent unnaturally from the backlash, tendons screaming, vision flashing red from the pain—but his fist never wavered. On the other side, Lei Hanwu felt a numbness spreading up his fingers, the overloaded qi rebounding along his veins like wildfire.
For a breath, nothing moved.
Then came the grind.
Both Wu Yuan and Lei Hanwu remained locked—blade against fist, neither yielding. Lightning flickered madly where their attacks met.
"This shouldn't be happening," Lei Hanwu thought, a bitter taste rising in his throat. "A brat like him—he should be on the ground, begging." But Wu Yuan wasn't. And that terrified him more than he would ever admit.
Lei Hanwu gritted his teeth, pouring more qi into his blade, the veins along his arm glowing faintly with the overload.
"Break, damn you!"
Wu Yuan's legs buckled slightly, but he dug in, feet grinding into the earth. His flesh screamed under the force. His knuckles bled.
He didn't shout. He didn't curse.
He pushed.
One pulse of his will.
The lightning within him burst forth like a rampaging spirit beast, thunder crackling as if the skies themselves were growling in warning.
A low hum echoed around Wu Yuan's body. His right fist burned—raw, searing pain radiating from knuckle to shoulder. His control was still crude, more instinct than technique, but it was his now.
And this time… Lei Hanwu felt it.
The lightning blade trembled—just a fraction, barely noticeable to the eye—but enough for Wu Yuan to see it.
His fist pushed forward an inch. Then another.
The tide had begun to shift.
Lei Hanwu's eyes widened. "You—!"
With a grunt, Lei Hanwu drew in more qi particles than before, forcing them into his blade, trying to overpower Wu Yuan through sheer Spirit Initiation might. The sudden surge slammed Wu Yuan back a step.
Wu Yuan's heels dug into the dirt. His arms trembled.
I won't lose.
He twisted his hips, bracing through the pain, and punched forward.
A second shockwave erupted, ripping through the field like a thunderclap. Trees cracked. Dust soared. The lightning blade let out a piercing screech—and snapped in half.
But not before its tip pierced clean through Wu Yuan's fist, embedding itself in blood and bone. The pain was excruciating.
Yet Wu Yuan didn't flinch.
He roared, muscles taut, and slammed his fist—half-blade and all—straight into Lei Hanwu's face.
The blow landed with a crunch that echoed louder than thunder. Flesh split. Bone cracked. Lightning sparked.
The impact was devastating.
The left side of Lei Hanwu's head exploded under the force, crushed into pulp by the combined might of Wu Yuan's tempered body and the lightning-forged shard still lodged in his knuckles. Flesh, bone, and blood sprayed outward in a brutal arc.
Only the right side of Lei Hanwu's face remained intact—eyes wide with disbelief, mouth frozen mid-snarl.
But even that didn't last.
Wu Yuan took one final step and, with his uninjured hand, drove a clean punch into the remnants of Lei Hanwu's skull. The neck twisted. The last vestige of life vanished from his expression.
The body fell.
Headless. Lifeless. Beaten beyond recognition.
Silence followed—horrified, stunned, and absolute.
Wu Yuan stood alone amid the aftermath, chest heaving, his bloodied fist still trembling… not from fear, but from victory.
Wu Yuan staggered and didnt care for that right now.
The moment Lei Hanwu's corpse hit the ground, the surge of willpower that had sustained him finally gave way. Pain crashed over him like a flood—his nerves ablaze, muscles screaming, blood dripping from his pierced fist.
He collapsed to his knees.
I can't black out… not here. Not now.
His breath came in ragged bursts. Every instinct screamed at him to lie down, to just stop—but Wu Yuan bit down hard on his lip, drawing blood, forcing his vision to remain steady.
If I fall unconscious, I won't wake up again. Not in this place.
Already, faint howls echoed in the distance. The scent of blood would draw beasts. Too many. Far more than he could fight like this.
With trembling limbs, Wu Yuan dragged himself toward Lei Hanwu's body. It wasn't just pain now—it was nausea, sharp and rising. His stomach churned.
His first kill.
Headless. Twisted. Brutal.
He clenched his jaw as bile crawled up his throat. No time. No time for weakness.
Wu Yuan rifled through the shredded remains of Lei Hanwu's robes, fingers slick with blood. Nothing. No jade slips, no pills, no manuals.
"Damn you…" he muttered hoarsely, nearly choking on the bitterness. "You rich bastard had nothing?"
Then it hit him.
The ring.
His eyes darted to Lei Hanwu's hand—or what was left of it. The scorched remains of his right wrist still bore a faint metallic glint.
Wu Yuan cursed. A space ring. I forgot.
But he had no energy left to figure out how to remove it properly or check if it required a blood seal. So he hastly took the ring.
Another low growl echoed closer.
He cursed again—this time at the Lei Clan, the heavens, and his own broken body—and forced himself to crawl away, dragging himself across the field on hands and knees like a dying beast.
Each breath was fire. Each movement sent bolts of agony through his limbs.
But he didn't stop.
He couldn't.
The predators were coming.
And Wu Yuan wasn't ready to die yet.
[System Mission Completed!]
Mission: Defeat Spirit Initiation Realm Cultivator – Success.
Rewards...
The familiar screen blinked into existence before his bleary eyes, but Wu Yuan barely spared it a glance.
He staggered forward, dragging one knee through the dirt, his bloodied fist dangling uselessly. The words meant victory—meant power, rewards, progress—but all he could feel was the thundering pain in his body and the bitter taste of blood in his mouth.
Mission completed... good for you, he thought dully. Now keep me alive.
He wiped the corner of his lip with the back of his sleeve, leaving a smear of red. His breath hitched. The System window hovered stubbornly at the edge of his vision, glowing faintly.
But Wu Yuan didn't care.
Not now.
Not with the taste of death still lingering in the air.
He shut his eyes and pushed forward. The world was spinning sideways, but he forced his limbs to move, one crawling motion at a time. If he stayed here—even another minute—the beasts would finish what Lei Hanwu couldn't.
The System could wait.
Survival couldn't.
His vision went dark. Just for a moment. He slapped his cheek—barely feeling it—and kept crawling. Even ants fought to live. He was no less than an ant. Not today.
After five grueling minutes, Wu Yuan finally dragged himself a hundred meters away from the battlefield. His body scraped against the earth like a broken blade across stone. When he reached the shade of a wide, weathered tree, he collapsed at its base, chest heaving, blood still dripping from his knuckles. He wrapped his fist in a torn strip of his sleeve—tight enough to stop the worst of the bleeding, though pain throbbed with every heartbeat.
The air around him felt strangely hollow.
The storm of qi particles that had once raged during the battle and stuck on his fist had already faded.
Everything had gone still, like the aftermath of a lightning strike. It left behind only silence… and the scent of blood.
Eyes half-lidded, he kept watch on the battlefield.
Fifteen minutes crawled by.
Then, faint snarls and the rustle of underbrush reached his ears. A pair of low-level beasts slinked out of the treeline, noses twitching at the scent of blood and death. They circled Lei Hanwu's headless corpse briefly—then tore into it with primal hunger. Bones snapped. Flesh was shredded. But the moment they'd gorged themselves, their snouts lifted. Blood still lingered in the air—fresh blood.
Wu Yuan's blood.
Their heads turned toward the tree he rested under. Hungry eyes locked onto his scent.
Wu Yuan's body screamed in protest as he pushed himself upright. Dizziness swept over him like a crashing wave. His knees buckled, but he caught himself against the tree trunk. Just barely.
No choice. He had to move. Now.
He gritted his teeth, forced one foot forward, then the other, every step fueled by pure survival instinct. He didn't care where—just away. Away from the beasts. Away from the corpse. Away from the field where he'd taken a life.
Even now, he could still hear the tearing sounds in the distance. And the beasts weren't far behind.
Once the two beasts had devoured Lei Hanwu's corpse, their snouts slick with gore, they turned their heads toward the scent trail left behind by Wu Yuan. The blood dripping from his wrapped fist had drawn them like moths to a flame.
And Wu Yuan hadn't gotten far.
Leaves rustled. Branches snapped. Within moments, the beasts reached him—two large, muscular creatures, fur matted, fangs bared. Their eyes locked onto Wu Yuan, hunger and killing instinct flashing in their gaze. They didn't charge right away. They were sizing him up, waiting for a weak movement, ready to pounce.
But Wu Yuan wasn't in the mood for a staring contest.
The moment one of the beasts crept within striking range, Wu Yuan moved. He had been silently focusing what little power he could gather—channeling every bit of stored strength into his left wrist, the only limb that still moved without unbearable pain. His muscles screamed, but his eyes stayed sharp.
Now.
With a sharp breath, Wu Yuan pivoted and slammed his fist into the oncoming beast's skull. There was a sickening crunch. The blow landed clean, right between the eyes. The beast's head jerked back—and then split with a cracking pop, blood and bone bursting like crushed fruit. It dropped instantly.
Wu Yuan's body swayed, and he sucked in a breath, his vision spinning. But his eyes flicked toward the second beast.
Still standing. Still alive.
Its snarl deepened as it glared at Wu Yuan, hackles rising. Unlike the first, this one had seen the danger. It wasn't going to rush in blindly.
He braced as the last of his adrenaline faded, prepared to meet death on his feet, if at all.