Ethan watched the blue water serpent, half-submerged and vast even in that state. Its body filled half the lake; its sheer size was ridiculous. As he studied it, he spotted a tiny golden stone set between the serpent's scales on its head—its soul core.
"That's it—its core. One good swallow-step and I harvest it," he thought. What could possibly go wrong?
Ethan began shifting his body to the extreme, preparing the sneak attack. Swish—like a swallow, he moved in an incredible step: the same technique that had saved him against the purple beast in the foggy mountain.
Before he could get close, the serpent's eyes snapped open. Those mystic eyes felt like they could see into his very soul; he felt naked. "Crap… it's a heavenly beast," Ethan muttered, forcing calm. He leapt and swung the axe for the core—BOOM—the serpent weaved, but the blade caught its neck.
The beast launched out of the lake, soaring into the air and missing Ethan's second strike. A man and a serpent were now in a furious dance, tearing at each other. The disturbed lake sprayed and roared as the serpent tried to use water skills to scatter Ethan's step techniques.
"Hmph—pathetic. I bend water, too," Ethan snorted, channeling water to enhance his steps.
The serpent wasn't especially fast—its body was massive and the lake cramped its movements. That gave Ethan an edge. "Die!" he shouted, sliding between the serpent's coils like a blade. His axe followed, tearing through the beast's flesh.
"Why did a mutant axe slice through its skin?" Ethan wondered—then didn't care. He vaulted forward like a god of war, slaughtering an infernal beast. Bang—the soul core shattered.
At the same instant, the serpent's massive tail swiped; Ethan was wiped clean off his feet.
He flew like an arrow into a bamboo trunk—BUUZZZ—CRACK. The blow knocked him out cold.
Two hours later Ethan came to. "Bluergh—cough, cough." He spat blood. He examined himself and saw a huge gash across his chest; bone showed beneath torn ribs. Blood coated the ground.
Still, he staggered to the lake. He didn't look at the dead serpent; his vision blurred. Bracing himself, he jumped in.
The water was ice-cold and all at once his body felt a chill ripple through it. His long silver hair floated. To his surprise, his wounds began to knit. Energy returned to him. Then he heard something—soft, calling—from below. At first he thought it was a hallucination; he resisted with every shred of will, but the feeling was too strong. His limbs no longer obeyed him. He started drifting down.
"What are you doing, idiot? You're going to drown!" he croaked, but his body ignored him. BANG—he felt the familiar compression of a space wrap. Who knew there was space-teleportation at the bottom of lakes?
BOOM. He was ejected upward, thrown fifteen meters through the air and slammed onto a strange surface. Dust settled. Ethan rose, dizzy but alive. The fall hadn't killed him, but he was upset—no serpent soup today. He had no clue where on the planet he'd landed.
Looking up, Ethan saw a structure that stole his breath: a huge jade temple. The doors were massive and alive with constellations—drawings of stars, galaxies, and cosmic spirals carved into the jade, each one glittering as if a star might emerge at any moment. At the center of the door a terrible, magnificent star itself—larger than galaxies—was etched, and coiled around it was a mighty blue dragon. Its eyes were sharp, mystic, and filled with the weight of billions of stars. The sight pressed on Ethan's chest with a tide of dread.
"Who the hell would build such a temple in the middle of nowhere? This is insane," he yelled.
A voice—soft, almost female—called his name. "Ethan."
"Who's there?" he shouted, scanning the empty air. He hesitated, then approached the doors. As he reached out to touch them—BOOM—the doors opened on their own, and an ancient breeze washed over his face.
He braced himself and stepped inside. The doors slammed shut behind him with a sound that startled him. The voice grew clearer now—not thunderous, but calm and impossibly old. He examined the walls and found ancient drawings like those in the cave he'd seen earlier.
"This is my dao—my way—and you shall follow it," the voice intoned, rolling like distant thunder through the hall. Ethan could not see an owner; he wondered if he had slipped back into some lake-induced illusion.
"Relax. It's not an illusion. It's all real," the voice said, kinder now, like a wizened man.
Ethan calmed and asked, "Who are you? Where am I?"
"You are on the planet of the God of Space and Time. This is his temple," the voice replied.
"You're not him," Ethan said.
"No. I am but a remnant—his lingering soul. I will soon fade," the voice answered.
"Then what now?" Ethan asked.
"I will pass down his power," the remnant said.
Ethan scoffed. "What's the catch? How do I know this is real?"
The temple's silence held the answer—and whatever came next would change everything.