At the cave entrance, a sudden eruption of sand and stone blasted outward. Mixed in the debris was a small white head.
Xue Kui hit the ground, rolled several times, then lay there with his hips up, groaning—before forcing himself to stand.
He jogged to a forest stream and looked down.
In the water's reflection was a face covered in bruises.
Not just his face—his torn clothing showed his whole body had been struck again and again.
A sparrow fluttered down and perched on his shoulder, chirping in a way that sounded suspiciously like laughter.
Xue Kui waved it off and sat by the stream.
His injuries looked terrible, but for a yaksha, they were nothing more than superficial scrapes. Whatever was in that cave hadn't meant to kill him—it had only wanted to drive him away.
And honestly, this was probably his own fault.
Who told him to go smacking someone's body like he was knocking on a door?
From the brief glimpse he'd caught, Xue Kui realized the "wall" that moved was only a corner of something's horn—
And the horn belonged to a creature he'd never seen. No—calling it a creature might be wrong.
It was more like an unimaginably pure mass of Geo energy that had gained self-awareness.
No wonder Xue Kui hadn't sensed its life. It was fundamentally different from flesh-and-blood beings.
His eyes followed fish swimming in the stream as he began worrying about the herbs.
That one swing of his hoe had angered the cave's owner. Even if it hadn't shown killing intent and seemed good-natured, going back in would only end with him getting thrown out again.
Xue Kui touched the bruises on his face. He couldn't beat that thing.
The strange rhythm it carried was unmistakably the same "category" as Morax and Guizhong. "Hmm?"
He stared at his reflection.
The bruises on his face were fading at a visible speed.
Normally, that would be nothing worth noting—but now it sparked a question. Why did his wounds heal so fast?
Why did human wounds heal so slowly? Was it only physical strength?
Or was something else deciding recovery?
He'd always taken rapid healing for granted. But with humans as comparison, the difference seemed absurd.
If he could figure it out…
Wouldn't Big Brother Shi Chen recover faster too?
With that thought, Xue Kui formed a small ice blade without hesitation and drew a line across his arm.
He focused entirely on the wound's changes.
As it healed quickly, he noticed something—then instinctively cut it open again. His senses sank inward.
Blood flow. A steady heartbeat. And—
Elemental power flowing into the wound.
If Morax and Guizhong knew this little brat had already grasped the art of inward contemplation without being taught, Morax would be delighted… and Guizhong would call it ridiculous.
Xue Kui's eyes snapped open. He sprang to his feet.
He understood.
It was elemental power.
Yaksha were beings born of heaven and earth—adeptal creatures formed from pure elemental energy.
Different elemental concentrations birthed different kinds of yaksha.
That was why Morax and Guizhong found Xue Kui's Cryo nature strange—there shouldn't have been any place nearby rich enough in Cryo to birth him.
Even if yaksha weren't as "pure" as slimes, they still held a body of flesh. But elemental power was still part of what made them.
In a way, Xue Kui was half elemental being.
So when he was injured, the elemental power inside him naturally repaired the damage. He felt excited for a moment—
Then it went flat, and he flopped onto his back. He'd been trying to solve Shi Chen's injury.
And the answer had nothing to do with helping a human.
Guizhong had already taught him the basic truth: humans didn't have elemental power within them.
Maybe that was the reason they were so weak.
And elemental energy entering a human body was closer to poison than medicine. Humans couldn't even approach places where elemental power was too dense—if it seeped into their bodies, it would harm them.
So using elemental power to repair a human body? Impossible.
Then Xue Kui sat up again.
He'd moved too much today, but a new question had taken root.
The ice blade cut his arm again. Blood flowed. Muscle was visible beneath the skin. All real.
So how, exactly, did elemental power heal a wound?
Did it simply fill the gap and turn into flesh and blood by itself? Xue Kui looked half possessed.
He cut his arm open again and again—watching it close, then cutting it again—repeating the act like self-harm.
Pain meant nothing to a yaksha. The sun slowly sank.
In the darkening woods, a pair of blue-glowing eyes grew brighter and brighter.
A rhythm spread through the air—similar to Morax's, similar to that unknown Geo entity's, yet different.
The other two carried a clear trace of "Geo."
But what radiated from this young yaksha was harder to name. Then, in one instant, Xue Kui finally caught the transformation. Cryo energy shed its attribute, becoming pure power—
And within it, vitality bloomed. Life force…
Xue Kui jolted awake.
A faint sting still lingered on his arm, but when he looked, the wound had already closed. "Huh?"
Only then did he realize it was pitch-black. Night had fallen. Even the ice blade in his hand had begun to melt.
"Chirp!"
A clear cry drew his attention.
He walked a few steps and found a sparrow collapsed on rocks by the stream. He recognized it.
The same one that had laughed at him earlier.
Now it was in a miserable state. Something had happened—one wing was twisted and tucked strangely against its body.
Broken.
For a bird, that was the same as death. "Heh."
A meaningful smile tugged at Xue Kui's lips.
A small bird dying here was the most natural thing in the world. But it was lucky.
Because now it might have a way out. He spread his hand and gathered Cryo.
Then he hesitated—and dispersed most of it, keeping only a tiny amount in his palm. Converting elemental energy into life force… was a yaksha's instinct.
Which meant he was born with this ability. Now he needed to dig it out.
Control it.
The memory of wounds healing replayed in his mind again and again. And when the moment of transformation resurfaced—
It was suddenly clear. As if he'd always understood it. He seized that feeling tightly and guided it into his palm.
The cold energy shifted, bursting with vitality like spring shoots piercing frozen earth. He gently covered the sparrow's injured wing with his hand.
A few crisp *click* sounds followed. Xue Kui lifted his palm.
The sparrow hopped on the rock, lively again. It spread its wings, flapped once, and flew up—landing on Xue Kui's shoulder and affectionately pecking his cheek.
Xue Kui frowned in disgust and waved it off. "Hmph. We both got what we wanted."