The second morning arrived cold and gray. Fog clung to the trees like spider silk, and the wind carried with it the scent of damp earth and distant hunger.
Shen stirred beneath his makeshift shelter, the crackle of embers beside him keeping the chill at bay. His limbs ached from the previous day's labor—tilling rocky soil, dragging timber, binding vines with trembling fingers. Sleep had come only in fits, haunted by the emptiness in his belly and the sting of old bruises left by a world that had always been too cruel. He shifted with a grunt, pain flickering through his ribs where the cold had stiffened the bruises and his muscles throbbed from overuse. The crude walls of his hut leaned precariously inward, lashed together with twisted bark and fraying vine. They would not last long. But for now, they held.
He blinked up at the canopy, listening.
Birds were silent.
The forest was still.
His hand drifted to the egg beside him, nestled on a bed of woven roots and moss. It was warm—warmer than yesterday. The golden lines across its surface pulsed faintly, like veins beneath skin.
Hunger twisted in his stomach. Bitter root paste sat in a wooden bowl by the fire, untouched. He'd been saving it, hoping to ration what little he had until the crops sprouted.
But they were only tiny green shoots still. Days away from harvest.
His fingers grazed the egg again.
"You're going to hatch soon," he murmured. "And you'll need food too."
The egg vibrated softly beneath his hand.
Shen stood, stretching the stiffness from his back. He needed more wood, more vines, maybe a better stone to sharpen his axe—
Then he heard it.
A branch snapped.
Too close.
Too heavy to be a bird.
He froze, muscles tensing, instincts honed by fear and memory kicking in like a second skin.
Another step.
Crunch. Crunch.
He grabbed his axe and moved toward the edge of the grove, steps silent on the leaf strewn ground.
Then he saw it.
A shadow wolf, lean and starved, slinking between the trees. Its fur was patchy, scars clawed across its sides. Its yellow eyes glowed faintly beneath the fog, fixed on something behind Shen.
The egg.
Shen stepped into its path, axe held low.
The wolf paused. Its lips peeled back in a snarl.
"I won't let you take it," Shen said quietly.
The beast lunged.
Shen tried to dodge sideways, but the beast was faster—hungrier. Its claws slashed across his shoulder in a brutal arc, tearing through cloth and biting into flesh with a searing pain that dropped him to one knee. He gasped, the heat of his blood soaking through his tunic. The wolf twisted mid-air, its weight brushing against him as it landed behind with a snarl, already turning to strike again. He grunted, pain flaring hot.
The axe came up—a clumsy swing. The wolf twisted mid-air and avoided it, landing with a snarl and circling him.
Shen's breath came ragged. Blood trickled down his arm. His grip tightened on the axe.
The beast charged again.
This time, Shen didn't retreat.
He ducked under the leap and rammed the blunt back of the axe into the wolf's ribs. It yelped, staggered, but didn't fall. Snapping jaws came at him again. Shen shoved his forearm into its throat, struggling to keep the fangs away from his neck.
They crashed into the dirt.
Shen rolled with it, pain screaming from his shoulder. The wolf thrashed, claws tearing at his sides.
In desperation, Shen brought the axe down.
Once.
Twice.
The third time, the blade buried itself in the wolf's side. Not deep enough to kill—but enough to hurt.
The beast howled and tore free, bleeding now, circling with a limp.
Shen dragged himself to his feet, swaying.
He bled. The wolf bled.
They stared at each other.
Fog drifted between them like ghosts.
Then the wolf lunged a final time.
Shen met it mid-charge, both hands on the axe, and twisted at the last second. The blade caught the beast's neck—barely. It howled, stumbled, then fell, twitching.
Blood soaked into the soil.
Shen stood over it, chest heaving.
He hadn't wanted to kill.
But he wasn't going to die. Not here. Not now.
He knelt beside the corpse and touched its matted fur.
"Thank you," he whispered. "I'll use all of you."
He dragged the carcass to the fire pit, cleaned it with shaking hands. His tools were crude. It took him nearly an hour just to strip the hide. Another to remove the organs, to find what was safe to eat.
The meat was lean, gamey. But it smelled good over flame.
The egg pulsed again, brighter than before—as if responding to Shen's fierce determination, to the blood spilled for its sake. A shimmer of golden light flickered along its surface, synchronized with his breath, his pain, and the raw will to survive that had carried him through the fight.
The scent of cooking meat reached it.
And it moved.
A golden crack split down one side.
The system chimed:
[Divine Egg – Hatching Imminent]
Lineage: Nine-Tailed Celestial Fox (Era-Sealed)
Current Tail Count: 1 / 9
Status: Weak. Requires nourishment.
Note: This entity cannot be identified by existing cultivation sect records.
Shen brought a sliver of the cooked meat to the egg's side, carefully.
The crack widened.
Something within shifted.
A tiny paw pressed against the shell.
Shen blinked.
"You're hungry too."
He placed the meat down gently. The egg glowed. The shell splintered.
And then, from golden shards and quiet light, a small fox emerged.
Fur as white as snow. One bushy tail. Golden eyes that blinked up at him with ancient weariness.
She gave a tiny, hungry yip.
Shen chuckled—then winced, clutching his injured side.
"I'll feed you," he whispered. "But no biting. I've had enough of that today."
She crawled into his lap, curling beside the fire, dozing with her nose pressed against his side.
That night, Shen sat beside the fox cub, the wolf's pelt drying nearby, his field sprouting under starlight.
The pain in his body lingered—but it was distant now.
He had shelter. Food. A field. A companion.And fire.
Let the world burn around him if it had to.
Here, in this clearing, Shen would grow something better.
Not through blood.
But through roots.
Through sweat.
Through care.
And if anything came to threaten it again…
They'd leave blood in the soil.
[End of Chapter 1]