The forest was quiet. Not peaceful but quiet, in that tense, breath holding way that made the hairs on Lin Chen's neck stand on edge.
He crouched low in the underbrush, fingers brushing against a patch of bright-green spirit grass nestled between two mossy stones. The herbs still had dew still clinging to their blades, and their faint spiritual scent confirmed their value. He carefully plucked a few, placing them into the small pouch at his waist.
"This should be enough," he said to himself, rising slowly. The outer sect mission had seemed simple: gather a handful of low-tier herbs from the eastern ridge. A task for any disciple with working legs.
He glanced up. The sun was hidden behind the tall canopy, casting the forest in hues of grey and green. Somewhere distant, a bird called out. And then silence.
Too quiet.
A growl sliced through the silence. Lin Chen turned sharply.
A shadow moved behind the trees.
Then it lunged.
The beast tore from the underbrush like a storm, fangs bared, muscles rippling beneath its fur. A low-grade spirit beast, but still far beyond what Lin Chen, barely at the early Foundation Stage, should be able to handle.
He leapt back, barely dodging the first strike. Claws grazed his sleeve, ripping through the fabric and a bit of skin. His heart thundered. Instinct kicked in.
qi surged through his limbs, shaky and unsteady, and he swung his short blade in a wide arc. The beast dodged, fast. Its yellow eyes locked onto him with terrifying focus.
Lin Chen darted between trees, trying to keep distance, but the beast was relentless. Each clash pushed him back. Each attack chipped away at his strength. His breath grew ragged. Blood trickled from a cut along his ribs.
He slipped on a root and rolled aside just in time to avoid a crushing pounce. His blade clattered to the ground.
The beast circled, saliva dripping from its jaws.
He scrambled to his feet, barely able to stand. His vision blurred. Muscles screamed. Qi flickered weakly inside him, sputtering like a dying flame.
This is it, he thought, chest heaving. He was out of strength. Out of options.
The beast roared and lunged, claws raised for the final strike.
And then
Something stirred.
Qi his qi flared to life, not through conscious effort, but in response to the moment. Smooth, quick, and instinctive. It wrapped around his failing limbs, stabilizing his stance.
His arm moved not guided by thought, but by something deeper. His blade lifted from the ground, his fingers finding its hilt as if attracted to it.
With a final, desperate lunge, he struck.
The blade found flesh stilled.
Lin Chen stood swaying for a moment. Then the world tilted, and he collapsed beside the beast's body, the forest spinning around him.
Darkness swallowed everything.
---
When he opened his eyes again, the sun had shifted and its golden rays streamed through the treetops. He lay on his back, the scent of blood and crushed leaves thick in the air. His wounds ached, but he was alive.
And yet something was different.
He sat up slowly, blinking. His head throbbed, not from injury, but from memory. Unfamiliar memories. Familiar ones.
A classroom.
A phone.
A life spent behind screens and in cities. Earth.
"I…"
He clutched his head. The rush of recollection was overwhelming—his name, his past, the mundane, everyday life he had lived. He wasn't just Lin Chen, outer disciple of the Windspire Sect.
He had been someone else. Someone ordinary.
And now he was… here.
"How…?"
No answers came. Only the wind and the rustle of leaves.
His qi pulsed softly inside him. Calmer, steady. He looked down at his hand, fingers curling slowly.
Something had changed.
And he didn't know what it meant yet, but he was sure of one thing,
things were not going to be the same anymore.