The world dissolved into a crushing, burning darkness. Karma's ribs screamed, his lungs burned, and the thrumming, alien energy of the serpent was a suffocating blanket that snuffed out the last of his consciousness. His vow, a furious, desperate spark, was the final thing to fade before the blackness took him completely. He was gone, a broken puppet in the coils of a monstrous predator.
But fate, it seemed, was not yet finished with him.
Above the tangled canopy of the Whispering Woods, a shadow fell. Not the shadow of a cloud, but a living, breathing darkness that blotted out the pale, bruised light of the sky. The air, already thick with the scent of fear and blood, was suddenly filled with a low, predatory shriek that sliced through the humming silence of the forest. It was the cry of a Stormrend Roc—a beast known for its speed, a predator that ruled the upper air, one of GreenFang's top sky hunters. Its massive wingspan, a tapestry of midnight blue feathers and hardened, chitinous plates, dwarfed the tallest trees. Its beak was a curved, ivory blade, and its talons were like sharpened daggers, each as long as a man's forearm. Its eyes, the color of molten gold, were fixed on the serpent below, on the easy meal that was currently preoccupied with its own prize.
The serpent, a creature of patience and stealth, was caught completely off guard. It had been enjoying its kill, savoring the slow, deliberate crush of bone and the fading struggles of its prey. It had feasted on the boar before, but a human was a rare and delicious delicacy. It was so focused on this thought that it didn't register the shadow until it was too late.
The Stormrend Roc dove like a missile of flesh and fury. Its descent was so fast that the wind whistled a death song, and before the serpent could even begin to react, the Roc's massive talons closed around the base of its skull. The serpent's head, larger than a man, was crushed like an eggshell in the bird's iron grip. A second, guttural shriek, this one of pain and surprise, ripped from the serpent's throat as it was lifted, violently, into the sky.
The coils that held Karma instantly loosened, not with intent but with the sudden, jerking force of the Roc's ascent. The crushing pressure on his chest vanished, and with it, the last bit of air he had been holding. His body, now nothing more than a limp, broken doll, was flung free as the serpent's coils snapped apart. He tumbled through the air, his consciousness a fractured mosaic of pain and confusion, a fleeting glimpse of the forest floor rushing up to meet him.
He didn't hit the ground. A miracle, a twist of fate, sent him hurtling toward a rushing river that cut through the valley below. The frigid water slammed into him, a shock that jolted his battered, unconscious body. He went with the current.
Inside his mind, Mira, the ever-present, ever-watchful system spirit, was in a frenzy. "Master! Oh, you idiot! Look at you! We're not done! Not yet!" Her voice was a terrified, desperate whisper in the torrent of pain that was his body. She felt the broken ribs, the fractured arm, the deep bruises that spiderwebbed across his torso. She felt the last vestiges of his stolen energy, a tiny, flickering flame that was barely enough to sustain his life. She began to work, frantically, tirelessly. She used every last ounce of borrowed spiritual energy to mend his broken bones, to seal his wounds. It was a slow, agonizing process. With every beat of his heart, she drew on the stolen life force of the beasts he had slain, using it not to grow his power, but to knit him back together. He was still a mess of pain and broken tissue, but he was alive.
His body drifted for hours, carried by the relentless current. The river wound its way deeper into the mountains, its course becoming calmer, its voice a soft whisper against the stone banks. The river, as if it had a destination in mind, veered sharply, flowing into a massive, jagged crevice in the side of a cliff. The flow slowed to a crawl as he entered a vast, echoing cave system, the rushing river now a placid, dark stream.
The current nudged him toward a small, sandy bank. As if its purpose was fulfilled, the river left him there, half-submerged in the shallows. The water was cold, but it felt strangely soothing against his bruised skin. He lay there for hours, suspended between consciousness and nothingness, as Mira continued her desperate, unseen work. The pain was still there, a constant, dull throb, but the screaming agony was gone.
The cold of the stone floor was his first conscious sensation. He blinked, but the darkness was absolute. A groan tore from his throat as he tried to move, and every muscle screamed in protest. "Stay still, you fool!" Mira's voice, a mixture of exasperation and relief, filled his mind. "You're lucky you're not a corpse. I used up every last bit of energy left in your body to fix it enough to not fall apart. So stop moving and let it recover."
The shame of his defeat, the terror of his helplessness—it all threatened to consume him. "Don't," Mira's voice was softer now, gentler. "Don't dwell on it. It's over. You made a mistake, you learned from it. Now we recover. We get stronger. We ensure it never happens again."
He took a slow, painful breath, forcing himself to calm down. He closed his eyes and began to cultivate, drawing in the spiritual energy of the cave. The air here was a thick, rich balm that flowed into him, soothing his bruised muscles and filling the hollowness in his core. He lost all sense of time. The first day was a painful, agonizing process of mending. The second day, a slow, methodical knitting of muscle and bone. On the third day, the pain retreated to a dull ache, and he could feel a new, hungry power rising within him. He was battered, but he was no longer broken. He had faced his limits, his pride had been shattered, and now a cold, desperate hunger for power had taken its place.
He slowly pushed himself to his feet, a low groan escaping his lips. He needed to get out. To go back to the city. He didn't know how deep he was in the forest, but the thought of staying here, alone in the silent darkness, was terrifying. He began to explore the cave system, a labyrinth of interconnected tunnels and chambers. He followed the faint sound of dripping water, his senses heightened by the recent ordeal.
That was when he saw it.
In the deepest, most shadowed part of a side tunnel, a faint, almost imperceptible green light pulsed. Curiosity, a foolish, powerful instinct he had yet to master, won out over his caution. He went toward it, thinking it might be a way out. He expected to find some phosphorescent moss, some strange mineral deposit. What he found was far more profound.
Suspended in the center of the chamber, untouched by the dust of ages, was a glowing green orb. It was about the size of his fist, its surface swirling with a soft, ethereal luminescence that cast strange, dancing shadows on the cave walls. It hummed with an energy that felt… right. It was a hum that matched the quiet song in his own veins, a song that had just learned a new, more powerful note.
He checked with Mira, her voice a hesitant whisper in his mind. "I… I don't know what it is, Master. I've never seen anything like it. It feels… ancient."
He reached out, his curiosity a fire he couldn't extinguish. His fingers trembled as they came in contact with the orb. It offered no resistance, feeling less solid and more like liquid light as it melted through his skin. With a sudden, silent rush, it vanished into his body. It didn't settle in his core or any of his meridians. Instead, it found a home in his dantian, the spiritual heart of his being, and simply hung there, a small, suspended star, radiating a faint, comforting energy that did no harm.
Then, all at once, the orb grew brighter. A blinding, pulsating light filled his mind, and he was no longer in the cave.
He was in space. Floating.
Around him were swirling galaxies, nebulas of impossible colors, and the silent, cold light of a million stars. Before him, suspended in the cosmic dust, was a temple. It was vast, ancient, and broken. Its pillars were fractured, its roof was gone, and yet it held an impossible grandeur. The orb guided him inside, its luminescence a beacon in the star-strewn darkness. Etched across the ruined ceiling were strange, indecipherable symbols. They twisted and turned, beautiful and alien, and a wave of confusion washed over him.
Then, the orb pulsed again, growing brighter, and the symbols on the ceiling began to glow with a soft, ethereal light. He stared at them, and in his mind, a new voice, not Mira's, but his own, deeper and more profound, spoke. The symbols, once a meaningless jumble, began to make sense. He understood them. They were not a language, but a truth. A perfect, divine scripture, designed for one purpose: to cultivate. He closed his eyes, his mind absorbing the wisdom, the knowledge, the power as if it were air.
Hours passed, or maybe it was moments. Time was meaningless in this cosmic temple. The orb began to fade, its light growing dimmer. He felt it shrinking, dissolving into his very being, becoming a part of his soul, a part of his power. It had given him its gift, and now it was gone, as if it had never existed.
He opened his eyes. The cave was gone. The forest was gone. He was standing on a cobblestone road, the familiar sight of the city walls a few miles in the distance. The sun was warm on his face, the air was clean and familiar, and the sounds of distant life were a symphony to his ears.
"Wha… what just happened?" he stammered, his mind reeling. "Where are we? How did we get here?"
Mira's voice was a low, bewildered hum in his mind. "You… you started walking, Master. When the orb started glowing. You were like a puppet. You walked and walked and walked, through the tunnels, through the maze of the cave system, and no matter how much I yelled at you, you didn't stop. And then… we were here. It's the exit. It opened up into a path right to the city."
He stared, his eyes wide with disbelief. Had he just walked out of the forest maze in a trance? Had no one else found this path? He looked back at the mountains, at the hidden, secret entrance to the cave. The questions swirled in his mind, but they were quickly overshadowed by a more immediate problem. He was back, but he was also alone, far from the safety of the Su Clan. How was he going to explain his disappearance? The thought of facing them with a story this absurd made his stomach churn.