Chapter 3: A Cultivator’s Progress

  Weeks slipped by like falling leaves. In the hidden cradle of his forest cave, Flux lived a quiet, determined life—gathering food, cultivating beneath the soft glow of spirit fireflies, and dodging the silent threats that stalked the wilderness. His days were filled with repetition and focus, and under this pressure, he slowly tempered his fragile body.

  Now, at the 4th level of Qi Refinement, the change was noticeable. The ache in his limbs had eased. His instincts had sharpened. Even the forest seemed quieter when he walked—more respectful, or perhaps more wary.

  “Finally… some strength,” he murmured, flexing his fingers until the joints popped. A quiet chuckle escaped his lips, childlike and proud. “But I can’t get compcent. My cultivation speed is already slowing down… I’ll hit a wall if I don’t shift my method soon.”

  He stood barefoot in the center of the cave, arms folded, tail flicking with subtle thought.

  “If I just stay here nibbling berries and meditating, I won’t get far. I need real-world experience. Combat. Demon beast cores. Spiritual herbs. Maybe even some alchemy, if I can find the right pnts…”

  He tapped a finger to his lips. The idea of forming his own path—crafting a personalized route to strength—thrilled him more than he expected.

  A pn formed: hunt lesser demon beasts to temper his instincts, absorb the residual qi from their cores, and gather herbs to prepare basic medicines. Simple, effective, dangerous.

  He still remembered the monstrous battle from his first day in the world. He wasn’t ready to brave the forest depths—but the outer ring held prey worth targeting.

  “Let’s see what’s lurking nearby,” he whispered, his voice barely a breeze.

  With a shimmer of white light, Flux transformed into his fox form, compact and efficient. His sleek body flowed like water between trees and brush, silent and sharp. As dawn broke and pale sunlight spilled through the canopy, his sapphire eyes glinted like ice.

  Soon, he stopped. Nose twitching.

  In a quiet clearing, a group of white-furred rabbits grazed peacefully. Yet something was wrong. Their eyes gleamed faint red, and short, jagged horns jutted from their brows. The air around them pulsed faintly.

  “Demon beasts?” he muttered, tail lowering. “Horned Blood Rabbits. Qi Refinement first level… maybe one or two at second. Perfect.”

  His lips curled into a fox-like grin.

  Without hesitation, he lunged.

  Cws ced with faint qi arced through the air as he struck down the first rabbit in one clean motion. It shrieked—then went still. The others hissed and lunged in retaliation, faster than any mundane beast. Their fangs gleamed. But Flux was faster—dodging, weaving, countering with fluid precision.

  It wasn’t graceful. It wasn’t clean. But it worked.

  Within minutes, five rabbit corpses y sprawled in the grass. The survivors fled in panic, crashing through undergrowth.

  Flux panted in the center, blood matting parts of his fur, a few shallow cuts along his fnk already beginning to heal.

  “My first hunt,” he whispered. A strange mix of pride and something else—something deeper—rose in his chest. “Not bad.”

  He reverted to his humanoid form, breathing hard but satisfied. He wiped his hands and slung the rabbits over his small shoulders, wobbling slightly under the weight. “Time to eat like a real cultivator.”

  Back at the cave, he gathered dry twigs and flint, coaxing a fire to life. Orange fmes licked at the stone walls, casting dancing shadows and illuminating the earthy chamber with warmth.

  The scent of sizzling meat filled the air, and his stomach growled with anticipation.

  “Mmm... finally, real food,” he said, eyes gleaming.

  The first bite earned an involuntary purr. He chewed slowly, savoring the fvor. “Delicious,” he mumbled through puffed cheeks, before his expression soured.

  “But seriously—why didn’t that damned creature leave me anything? No sword. No pouch. No artifact! Not even a basic talisman!”

  He huffed dramatically, arms filing for emphasis, looking every bit like a frustrated child throwing a tantrum over missing dessert.

  “He didn’t even send me to a peaceful pce. This forest is crawling with monsters!”

  Despite his theatrical grumbling, Flux settled into a steady rhythm in the following weeks. Hunt. Cultivate. Gather herbs. Improve his shelter. He constructed drying racks for meat, storing smoked strips in sealed leaf bundles. Using beast hides, he stitched together crude clothing—nothing stylish, but serviceable. A white tunic, short leggings, all stitched with thorn needles and tied with vine cords.

  “They’re ugly, but better than running around naked if I meet someone,” he muttered, tugging at the stiff colr with a pout.

  To protect his sanctuary, he etched a basic array around the cave’s entrance. It wasn’t much—just a simple arm that triggered when qi pressure neared—but it was enough for now.

  Time flowed.

  Eventually, through tireless effort and raw instinct, Flux reached the 7th level of Qi Refinement. His body was faster, more flexible. His qi flowed sharper now, and his reflexes were honed through countless hours of survival training.

  But a problem emerged: his appetite was growing—and his food stores were thinning.

  “Time to hunt again,” he murmured, transforming with a flick of energy.

  He moved farther than usual, slipping into unfamiliar terrain. The trees grew older here—taller, their trunks thick with moss and fungi. Shadows clung longer. The air felt colder.

  Then he froze.

  Voices.

  Carefully, he slinked toward the sound, ears twitching. Hiding behind the root of a massive tree, he peered into a narrow forest trail.

  A group of ten humans walked in loose formation. They wore matching green robes, clean and marked with an emblem—a silver-wrapped leaf embroidered into their sleeves.

  “Sect members?” Flux whispered, curious. “They don’t seem strong… maybe a foraging squad?”

  He concentrated, reading their auras. Seven hovered around the 5th level, three at the 7th—roughly equal to him now.

  He masked his presence with a light concealment spell, smothering his qi and scent, then followed them like a drifting shadow between trees.

  Over the next two days, he watched them from afar. He marked his trail, mimicked their foraging techniques, and listened carefully.

  “They say the Bckfang Wolf moved deeper into the mountain…”

  “Ugh, that thing nearly shredded a patrol st week.”

  “I just want to get back before another border fight breaks out. The barbarians are getting more brazen.”

  Flux soaked up every word. Stories of beasts. Rumors of sect politics. Border disputes. Cultivator territories.

  Eventually, the group reached a small settlement nestled under towering oaks—Oaktown.

  Flux crouched at the edge of a hill and stared.

  Stone buildings and wooden homes hugged cobbled streets. Spirit nterns drifted zily through the air. Merchants shouted over each other, children raced past stern cultivators, and the hum of civilization buzzed like an unfamiliar song.

  His eyes widened. “A real town,” he whispered. “Finally…”

  His stomach gave a low, treacherous growl.

  “I haven’t eaten since yesterday,” he groaned, clutching his belly. “I’ll grab a snack on the way back…”

  He took one st long look, then turned back into the forest, silent and swift.

  But as he moved, something solidified deep inside him.

  “I’m still too weak,” he thought, hands curling into fists. “If I show myself now, I’m just another stray beast.”

  “I’ll only step into the world once I reach Foundation Establishment. Only then… will I stop being prey.”

  He looked toward the sky, where branches parted and sunlight speared through.

  “Soon,” he said softly. “But not yet.”