The tiger knew death was certain.
Its breaths came in ragged gasps, each movement trembling with blood loss. Claw marks ran deep across its flanks, and one eye was swollen shut. Across from it loomed the massive Earth Spirit Bear, its armor glinting in the faint sunlight that pierced through the canopy. The beast growled, low and thunderous.
But the tiger didn't retreat. Its golden eyes glanced toward the underbrush—where two frightened cubs hid, their tiny bodies pressed together. No matter how wounded, it would not fall without protecting them. If this was to be its last breath, then it would use it to tear into the bear's throat.
High above the battlefield, hidden among the thick branches of a pine tree, Qingyue crouched silently. Her hands trembled slightly as she pulled a small kitchen knife from her sleeve—the only weapon she had. It wasn't a spiritual tool, and if she imbued it with Qi, it would shatter instantly. But its edge was still sharp.
And right now, that was enough.
Without hesitation, Qingyue leapt.
She soared through the air like a shadow cast by the sun, landing directly atop the bear's broad back. The beast snarled in shock, but before it could react, she plunged the knife into a gap in the plated armour covering its shoulder. A sickening crack rang out as the blade struck bone and snapped in two.
The bear roared in fury.
It twisted, trying to claw at its back. But Qingyue clung tightly to the ridged armor between its shoulder blades, her fingers bloodied but unyielding. The bear's thick arms couldn't reach her, no matter how it twisted and turned.
The tiger saw its chance.
With a final roar of defiance, it lunged, jaws opening wide. It sank its teeth into the bear's exposed neck, dragging the larger creature down with sheer momentum.
The bear stumbled—but it wasn't done.
Though not yet fully intelligent, as a spiritual beast, it possessed a cunning far beyond normal animals. With a guttural growl, it twisted its massive claws into the tiger's neck, digging deep. Then, it reared back, slamming its spine into a nearby tree, trying to crush Qingyue between wood and flesh.
The tree shattered with a deafening crack.
Qingyue leapt just in time—but only barely. She landed hard, rolling on the forest floor. Her shoulder throbbed with pain, and her breathing hitched. Splinters clung to her robes.
The scene before her was nightmarish.
Blood stained the grass red. The two great beasts were locked in a death grip, each tearing at the other's throat. Roars and gurgles filled the air as they writhed together, neither willing to release their hold. But Qingyue saw it clearly—the tiger was weakening. Its fangs were still latched onto the bear, but the thick fat on the bear's neck dulled the damage.
The bear, on the other hand, had its claws embedded deep in the tiger's throat. Blood gushed freely.
The tiger was losing consciousness.
Qingyue clenched her fists. She could escape. The rational choice was to grab the cubs and run. There was no way she could defeat the bear alone, especially without a weapon.
But she couldn't.
Not again.
"I… can't keep running…"
Her chest tightened—not from fear, but fury. That same helplessness she had felt the day she died bubbled within her again. If she ran now, what was the point of being reborn?
She picked up a large rock—nearly the size of her torso—and ran back toward the bear. Its attention was completely on the dying tiger. It sensed her but did not move.
Too late.
With a yell, Qingyue jumped once more, bringing the rock down hard on the exact same spot where her knife had broken. The impact landed with a meaty crack, right near the beast's spine.
The bear howled in pain.
Its grip on the tiger loosened. The tiger, unconscious and bleeding, was flung aside like a broken doll. The bear staggered… and then fell backward.
Qingyue tried to leap away, but she wasn't fast enough.
A crushing weight slammed onto her left leg.
White-hot pain shot through her body. She screamed as her ankle snapped beneath the bear's weight. Though her cultivation would allow her to heal quickly, her mobility was gone. Her greatest advantage—speed—was lost.
She could barely breathe, but the bear wasn't done.
With a low growl, it twisted its massive head and clamped its jaws around her other leg.
Qingyue's eyes widened.
It was cunning. Had it tried to stand, she could have escaped. But instead, it stayed low and struck like a serpent. It knew.
With a roar, the bear swung her like a ragdoll.
Her body slammed into a tree with a brutal crack. Pain exploded in her ribs. Blood filled her mouth. Her breathing turned ragged—one rib had punctured her lung. She gasped, choking on iron and agony.
Before she could even process the pain, it swung her again.
This time, the tree splintered and collapsed.
Qingyue's vision went black. Her consciousness slipped. Her body dangled limp from the bear's jaws, and then—it dropped her.
Still.
Unmoving.
Was she dead?
The void answered.
It was the same cold silence she remembered from the day she died. But now, there was something different—a faint glow in the endless dark. A door. Half open.
She drifted toward it.
"What's behind it?" she wondered, her fading will clinging to the thought.
She reached out, fingers brushing the frame. And with one final push, she opened it—
—and woke up.
The pain came back instantly. Blood spilled from her lips. She could barely move, and her body lay twisted near the shattered tree.
But her eyes opened.
And what she saw froze her heart.
The Earth Spirit Bear was crouched in the clearing, its body covered in wounds. But that wasn't what horrified her.
It was feasting on the tiger's body.
And in front of it, the two cubs cried out, roaring weakly at the beast that had killed their mother.
Qingyue's vision blurred. Not from pain—but from tears.
The rage within her was bottomless.
The helplessness she'd tasted once was back—but now it was igniting something far deeper.
Her body began to heat.
Her spirit roots, dormant till now, ignited with a vengeance. Her skin turned red, spiritual energy surging violently through her veins. Even the intense pain receded into the background.
Her tears turned to steam as they rolled down her cheeks.
Then—BOOM.
A burst of spiritual energy erupted from her core.
The barrier of the Second Stage of Qi Gathering shattered. But it didn't stop.
The energy surged again—BOOM—and her cultivation soared to the Third Stage.
Flames danced around her. The dry grass nearby caught fire. The air warped from heat.
Qingyue had lost control of her spiritual energy!