Fu Yang remained still, his grip tight around the lowered spear. The wolf, silent as death, crept closer step by step. Its paws pressed
When it was only fifteen chi away, the beast suddenly leapt forward with astonishing speed.
"Woooowoooooo!"
Fu Yang, though seated, reacted instantly. He thrust the spear forward, its sharp tip radiating deadly intent.
Wosssss—Kkuccck!
The spear pierced into the wolf's body but failed to strike its heart. The beast howled in pain, its bloodshot eyes glaring at him with murderous rage. With another savage roar, it pounced again.
Fu Yang rolled across the ground, dodging at the last instant. Soil and leaves scattered. The wolf landed where he had been sitting only a heartbeat ago. It spun with frightening agility and attacked again.
He frowned, his expression cold despite the blood dripping from his face.
"Shit… why isn't it dead? Do I have to use my killing intent?"
The thought lingered in his mind. He could summon killing intent, but his body was too weak to endure it. He had tried once before—only to collapse under the suffocating pressure, unconscious for an entire day. If he used it now and failed, he would be nothing more than a meat slab for the wolf.
"I should wait… ahhh!"
His hesitation cost him. The wolf's fangs tore into his left arm, ripping three deep wounds that exposed bone. Blood flowed freely. Fu Yang clenched his teeth, enduring the agony as he twisted free, but fresh scratches and bruises piled upon his small frame with every dodge.
The fight dragged on.
Only five minutes passed, yet both boy and beast were drenched in blood. Fu Yang's breathing grew heavier, his muscles sluggish, but he noticed something—the wolf too was slowing. Its movements were less sharp, its eyes hazy with fatigue.
He gritted his teeth and spat blood.
"Why don't you just die, little dog!"
Suddenly, the suffocating aura within him burst free. A crushing killing intent exploded from Fu Yang's body, spreading like a storm through the forest.
The black wolf froze mid-step. Its eyes rolled back as its ears, eyes, and nose bled under the invisible pressure. With a pitiful whimper, it collapsed lifelessly onto the earth.
Fu Yang trembled and swayed. His vision blurred. The overwhelming pressure consumed his strength, and he too fell, unconscious.
The forest grew silent. Beasts hidden in the shadows scattered in fear, unwilling to approach the strange child who carried such a suffocating presence.
---
The night passed. Dawn arrived, and golden sunlight filtered through the canopy. Birds sang in the distance, unaware of the battle that had taken place.
Two figures lay in the forest clearing: the corpse of a black wolf, and a boy with long black hair—still breathing.
Fu Yang groaned, his eyelids fluttering open. He quickly scanned his surroundings. Finding no one, he finally exhaled in relief. His gaze fell upon the wolf's corpse, and for the first time, a faint smile touched his lips.
He sat up slowly, hissing at the pain that wracked his arm and chest. With trembling fingers, he crushed spiritual leaves and pressed them into the gashes. The leaves stung, the pain excruciating, but the bleeding slowed, and the flesh began to mend.
"Haahhh… this was risky. But huge risks bring huge rewards. Now I can finally begin cultivation."
His voice was hoarse, but his determination burned fiercer than ever.
From his pouch, he released a Dig-Skin Insect. The beetle-like creature skittered across his palm before he tossed it onto the wolf's corpse.
Crunch, crunch…
The insect burrowed beneath the flesh, stripping hide from muscle with ruthless efficiency. But before finishing even half the body, it shrank and crawled deep into the soil, its task complete as it began its next phase of life.
Fu Yang did not hesitate. He released his remaining insects one by one. Each devoured what they could before vanishing, leaving behind cleaned sections of hide. Finally, he had gathered enough. He bundled the wolf's skin carefully, treating it as treasure.
The carcass left behind was useless. Lingering would only draw scavengers, so Fu Yang staggered to his feet and made his way back toward the village.
---
By evening, he emerged from the forest's edge. His wounds had mostly healed, scars marring his thin arms, though pain still gnawed at him with every step. Blending into the crowd at the dumping grounds, he slipped back into the village unnoticed.
Who would ever suspect a ten-year-old orphan of killing a spiritual wolf? That anonymity was his greatest advantage.
Hiding the wolf's hide in a trash basket, he returned straight to his dormitory. He barred the door behind him and prepared the room. Clean clothes lay folded neatly. A bucket of water sat ready. Spiritual healing plants glimmered faintly by the window.
After washing, he retrieved the hide, soaking it in water until it softened. He sat cross-legged, his gaze unwavering as he picked up a sharp kitchen knife.
"In this world, people begin cultivation by wearing beast hides and using insects or plants to embed them into their body, allowing them to sense spiritual energy. But that was never enough for me. I asked myself—why not fuse the hides directly into the flesh? After countless sacrifices, I succeeded… but by then, it was already too late for me."
His voice was calm, almost detached, as though narrating a memory.
Without hesitation, he drank an entire bottle of medicinal wine to dull the pain. Then, with the knife in hand, he slashed his arm from wrist to shoulder, peeling back skin from flesh.
"Eeeegggghhh… haaaah! Haaaah!"
The agony was beyond comprehension. His body shook, but his movements were precise. He pressed the wolf's hide into the exposed wound. The moment the hide touched his raw flesh, the searing pain dulled, replaced by a strange warmth.
One by one, he repeated the process. Both arms. Both legs. His chest. Finally, his forehead.
Haaaa haaaaa, huu.
"This medicine wine is good. I can peel my skin easily without rupturing the major blood vessels. Huuu but the pain is just unbearable"
When it was done, he was drenched in sweat, his face pale as death. But his eyes glowed with madness and resolve.
"Haaaah… the main phase is complete. Now I just need to do the same as other cultivators… cover myself with the hide."
He wrapped himself completely in the wolf's skin, his breathing slow and steady.
Hmmm… haaaaah…
The reaction was immediate. His body swelled. His veins bulged. An itching worse than fire spread across his flesh. His arms twisted unnaturally, his head throbbed, and nausea surged like poison.
To endure, he bit into the hide itself, chewing and swallowing pieces as foam gathered at the corners of his lips.
Hours passed. He writhed, groaned, and clawed at the floor, but he never removed the hide. At last, the itching dulled. A strange calm fell upon him.
"The skin… it's embedding into me. I can feel it. The spiritual energy—flowing into my flesh! Hahahahaha! At last, I've succeeded!"
The hide shimmered faintly, then slowly dissolved into his body. His skin tightened, his wounds sealed, and an unfamiliar strength coursed through his veins.
Fu Yang steadied his breathing, sinking into meditation. Time blurred as his consciousness dove deeper and deeper inward.
By the next day, noon had already arrived.
Inside his dorm, his body was encased in a transparent cocoon. Naked, he floated within it, his chest rising and falling in unnatural rhythm.
When his eyes snapped open, a flash of light burst forth.
Wossshhh!
The cocoon shattered. Fu Yang stepped out, his body reborn.