Chapter 6: From Depths to Wilds
Ren Tai stood at the edge of the cliff that had spared his life. Behind him was the endless darkness of the Screaming Abyss, a place that devoured sanity and shattered souls. Ahead lay the long, treacherous journey back to the surface. The path from the Mirror Moon Sect to the Screaming Abyss was distant — not just in miles, but in the isolation it represented. It had taken Ren Tai three full days to be dragged here unconscious. Alone and broken.
Now, he would walk it back on his own two feet.
Part of him wished to explore the deeper layers of the Abyss. The unknown mysteries whispered to his awakened instincts. But those same instincts screamed of danger. Something ancient slumbered deeper below.
He turned his back on the edge and began his climb.
The terrain was rough. Jagged rocks tore at his robe. The wind carried remnants of the Abyss's lingering voices, but they no longer stirred fear. He moved like a predator, steady and silent.
When he reached the rim of the chasm, he didn't pause to rest. He pressed forward, feet crunching against scattered stone and sparse grass. He followed the forgotten paths down into the lowlands, eventually finding himself at the edge of a thick forest.
This forest had once been part of the Mirror Moon Sect's outer territory, a place disciples used to forage for ingredients and train in survival.
Now, it would become his new testing ground.
The canopy overhead was dense, blocking out most of the moonlight. It didn't matter. His senses were sharper than ever. He could hear the rustle of leaves, the snapping of twigs, and even the distant breathing of wild beasts. His stomach growled quietly. He hadn't eaten in days.
He didn't have a map, so he relied on his heightened instincts and sharpened senses. He followed the scent of damp moss and the faint prints of passing beasts, tracing the land's quiet patterns until he heard the trickle of flowing water, eventually locating a small stream hidden behind a thicket. There, he drank deeply, letting the cool water clear the dryness from his throat.
Nearby, he sensed movement — heavy, rhythmic, snorting. A wild boar.
With raw instinct and a burst of physical power, he closed the distance in a blink. His claws struck cleanly, tearing into the neck of the mid-sized horned boar. He didn't have a proper movement technique — not yet. But with his reforged body, a raw burst of strength could mimic one, for now.
As he dragged the boar back to his camp, he felt eyes on him — something deeper in the brush, large and silent. It didn't move closer. It only watched. There, he lit a fire, cooked the meat, and ate slowly. Each bite restored a bit of warmth to his body, though it was not hunger he feared — it was stagnation.
As he sat beside the fire, Ren Tai stared into the flames.
"I need a movement technique," he muttered. "Something swift… controlled."
But the ones in his mind — drawn from a forgotten life and Thalasar's fading legacy — were too advanced. Using them now would shatter his body before they ever helped him.
He exhaled. "Too powerful. And I've got no coin for scrolls."
He leaned back against the cave wall. "One step at a time."
If beasts this size roamed here, what else waited deeper in the forest? Remembering the mysterious beast that was watching him.
Without speed, he'd be forced to take every battle head-on. That wasn't always a luxury.
He crouched near a strange red colored mushroom, its scent sharp and earthy. "A few more like this, and I could refine a body-strengthening tonic… if I still had a cauldron," he muttered, before chuckling dryly. "Well, I suppose I am the cauldron now."
After eating, he stood and walked deeper into the forest clearing. He began training again.
He re-practiced Stage One of "A Thousand Cuts, One Breath." The saber moved in controlled arcs through the air, its edge flashing with residual lightning. His movement stirred leaves and pushed back the night fog. The forest echoed with the hiss of each strike.
One breath.
Ten slashes.
The wind howled faintly through the trees, but Ren Tai's mind was focused.
He could now execute all ten slashes cleanly within a breath, though the strain still left his arms sore.
He could push further, but he knew the limits of his current stamina. For now, he would solidify Stage One in real combat conditions — when the time came.
As the fire burned low, he sat cross-legged in front of it and began absorbing ambient Spirit Qi. Even in rest, his body passively drew in ambient Spirit Qi. His breaths deepened. Spirit Qi followed every inhale, flowing naturally into his meridians.
The Cauldron-HeartBeast physique thrived in this setting. Nature's essence fed it like dry logs to a flame.
He would rest tonight.
Tomorrow, he would train again. The Mirror Moon Sect would know he survived — but not yet.
Not until he had the strength to face them on equal ground.