The wind howled like a wounded beast as Shen Zian climbed the broken ridge overlooking the now-collapsing Silent Shrine. His robe, torn and blackened from the Primeval Core fusion, fluttered against his lean frame. His golden-slit eyes gleamed in the fading twilight.
He no longer looked like the Shen Clan's discarded heir.
He looked like something the heavens themselves had tried—and failed—to bury.
Qi pulsed in his veins, more beast than human. His footsteps were near silent. His aura—wild, unidentifiable, untamed. But it was power. And it was his.
Still, unease prickled at his senses.
He wasn't alone.
He could feel it—an ancient, suffocating intent bearing down on the valley. Not beast. Not spirit. But cultivator.
And strong.
He ducked behind a jagged boulder just as the clouds above crackled. Lightning snapped across the sky, illuminating a figure descending like a phantom through the mist.
Zian's breath hitched.
He recognized the robes—silver-trimmed violet, embroidered with a single cloud-shaped insignia: Heaven's Judgement Pavilion.
A Heaven Envoy.
Not just any cultivator—but one sanctioned by the celestial tribunals to eliminate those who tampered with forbidden paths.
Like corpse cultivation.
Or beast-core fusion.
The man touched down silently at the edge of the ruins. He was tall, lean, with bone-white hair tied in a high knot. A blindfold covered his eyes, but Zian could sense that the man saw everything. His presence felt like the sky had dropped a mountain atop the earth.
Then the man spoke, his voice calm, clear, and merciless.
"Forbidden resonance detected. Primeval inheritance desecrated. Verdict: Erasure."
Zian didn't wait.
He ran.
The forest flew past him, branches whipping his face, roots clawing at his feet. He activated the wind-aspect agility from the fox-beast's core, his body blurring through the trees. Behind him, a single step echoed—soft, deliberate.
The hunter wasn't chasing.
He was walking.
And closing the distance.
Zian's beast core burned hot. The newly absorbed Primeval energy surged, begging to be unleashed. He didn't know what it would do—if it would even obey him—but he had no choice.
He turned on his heel and slammed both palms into the ground, channeling the wild qi.
The earth split.
From the soil rose a spectral image of the twin-horned beast from his vision—half-formed, transparent, but roaring.
It lunged.
The Envoy raised a hand, and a ribbon of lightning lashed out, slicing through the projection like paper.
Zian staggered backward, coughing blood.
Not enough.
The Envoy appeared in front of him without moving.
Zian's instincts screamed.
He ducked as a palm brushed past his skull—barely dodging. The air behind him exploded as trees were vaporized into ash.
"Good reflex," the man said flatly. "It will not help."
Zian drew the corpse talisman.
Cold qi erupted.
The surrounding air dimmed. The very wind recoiled.
The Envoy frowned.
"Corpse qi, too. You are no accident."
Zian growled. "I'm what your precious heavens made when they turned their backs on me."
He crushed the talisman.
Dark smoke burst out, forming the shape of a skeletal serpent. It hissed and coiled, then struck at the Envoy with terrifying speed.
This time, the lightning didn't destroy it.
The corpse qi resisted.
The serpent wrapped around the Envoy's arm, biting deep.
Zian used the moment to run again—faster than before, his fox agility reaching its peak. He dashed across a ravine, leapt over a moss-covered cliff, and didn't stop until he reached a narrow crevice in the rocks.
He dove in, rolling behind a natural wall of stone.
Silence.
No pursuit.
Zian curled into himself, body shaking from the strain. The corpse talisman was gone. His core felt unstable—like a furnace forced to burn ice. His head pounded with primal echoes.
He was still alive.
But barely.
And only because he had burned through every ounce of the power the Silent Shrine had gifted him.
Heaven was watching now.
And it wasn't done.
Elsewhere…
Within a cloud-wrapped tower of jade and gold, nine robed elders sat before a celestial mirror.
It glowed with the afterimage of Shen Zian's fusion—beast qi and corpse qi spiraling around a human frame.
One elder leaned forward, expression unreadable.
"A mortal child. Beast fused. Corpse-touched. Primeval-chosen. What is he?"
Another elder answered coldly, "A threat."
The third spoke after a pause. "Or a key."
A silent agreement passed through the room.
Far above the heavens, a constellation flickered.
And changed.