The forest at dusk was not kind.
Every branch seemed to stretch longer in the fading light, shadows knitting themselves into walls where predators might wait. The bundle from the herbalist felt pitifully light in my hand, a mortal's gift in a world that fed on cultivators.
The System's reminder glimmered faintly in the corner of my vision:
[Protection Remaining: 6 days, 12 hours, 08 minutes.]
Each digit felt like a hammer striking the inside of my skull. A countdown not to death exactly, but to exposure. After that… the claws and teeth of this world would sink into me without mercy.
I pressed the cured strip of meat between my teeth, chewing slowly. It was tougher than leather, but the salt steadied me. I'd lived hungrier days. The forest floor gave way to rock as I climbed a low ridge, pushing aside ferns that brushed against my arms.
The Codex whispered again, lines unfurling as if ink were spilling across the inside of my eyelids:
"Spirit gathers where stone remembers the stars. Seek high places, for there the currents thin and can be drawn."
I followed the ridge upward until the canopy broke. The sky flared violet, streaked with fire as the sun dipped low. For a heartbeat, the sight stole everything else from me. I had forgotten sunsets could be beautiful. In my old world they had been warnings of ash storms, signals to hide from steel-clad patrols. Here, it was light painted across the heavens, careless and alive.
I sat on the stone, cross-legged, and breathed as the Codex instructed.
Inhale. Hold. Exhale.
The world did not answer quickly. It required patience, as if testing my sincerity. But eventually, as the air cooled around me, I felt the thread again—that faint warmth coiling at my spine. This time it wasn't just inside me. The very air vibrated, as if tiny motes of starlight pressed against my skin.
[Qi Detected: Ambient — Low Grade. Absorption Efficiency +12% (Heavenly Root).]
The System's calm report only sharpened my focus. I reached with thought, drew the current inward…
And the forest howled.
The hair along my neck rose as a shriek echoed through the trees below. It wasn't the wolf from before. This cry was sharper, higher, and closer. A crack of undergrowth followed, then the sound of something running—fast.
I snapped my eyes open just as a figure stumbled into view at the base of the ridge. A boy, no older than sixteen, robes torn and face streaked with dirt. His qi was pitifully weak, barely stronger than mine. But behind him—
The underbrush exploded.
A boar, massive and black, tusks as long as my forearm, barreled into the clearing. Its hide shimmered faintly with spiritual light. A spirit beast, low-rank but enough to turn the boy into red paste.
The System pulsed text before my eyes, merciless as ever:
[New Quest Generated.]
Objective: Intervene or Observe.
Reward (If Intervene): +Experience, System Points.
Penalty (If Observe): –Reputation, Potential Narrative Branch Lost.]
I cursed under my breath. A choice, and not the kind I could ignore.
The boy's scream echoed up the ridge as the boar lowered its tusks for the charge.
The boy's scream ripped through the trees, high and panicked, as the boar lunged.
Instinct warred with reason inside me. I had seven days of protection, but only for myself. If I interfered now, the barrier wouldn't shield him. The smarter choice—the survivor's choice—was to stay still, let the forest decide his fate, and remain unnoticed.
But something twisted in me.
I had watched my people die once before. Elves, proud and ageless, crumbling one by one while I endured. Every face haunted me still, every moment I chose silence over defiance. To sit and watch again? To let another life vanish when I could act?
The decision cut through me like a blade.
I moved.
"System," I hissed. "Anything—give me anything to fight with!"
Text flared immediately, cold and merciless:
[Inventory: Empty.]
[Codex: Primordial Elf Codex — Foundation Insight Only.]
[Note: User has unlocked Meridian Initiation. Crude Qi Manipulation possible.]
Crude. Barely a step above nothing. But it was all I had.
I sucked in a breath, dragged at the warmth humming in my chest, and willed it into my limbs. My body answered clumsily, like a drunk soldier, but sparks of strength lit my muscles. I leapt from the ridge.
The boy's eyes widened as I dropped between him and the charging beast. My landing was far less graceful than I'd imagined—knees screaming, balance swaying—but I forced my feet to hold.
The boar barreled forward, tusks gleaming, rage in every line of its form. Its spirit aura pressed against my skin like hot sand.
I raised my hand and thrust the gathered warmth outward.
For a split second, nothing.
Then a burst of invisible force rippled from my palm—weak, jagged, uncontrolled, but enough. The boar's charge faltered as if it had slammed into sudden resistance. Its hooves dug furrows in the dirt, its tusks scraping air just inches from my chest.
The recoil sent me stumbling back, ribs aching from the strain. My crude qi strike had done nothing more than slow it.
But sometimes, slowing was enough.
"Run!" I barked at the boy.
He hesitated—staring at my ears, my eyes, the aura I barely controlled. Then, survival overtook awe, and he bolted toward the treeline.
The boar snarled and lunged again—this time at me.
The System chimed as if narrating my impending death:
[Battle Commenced: Spirit Beast — Black Tusk Boar (Rank: Low).]
[Objective: Survive encounter. Optional: Kill beast for +Experience.]
"Not helpful!" I spat, throwing myself sideways as the beast's tusks slammed into the stone where I'd been standing. Rock split like dry wood.
I scrambled to my feet, chest heaving. My mind flicked through the Codex's first lines, desperate for anything useful. Breath, spine, current—let intention guide the flow.
The boar snorted, steam rising from its nostrils, eyes burning with fury.
I had no weapon. No training in this body. No cultivated strength.
But I had breath. And for the first time in centuries, I had something to fight for.
I set my stance, heart hammering, and pulled at the warmth again—dragging it into my fists, my legs, anywhere that would answer.
The Black Tusk Boar pawed the earth, lowering its head for another charge.
I exhaled once, steady and sharp.
"Come, then."
And when it thundered forward, so did I.
The world shrank to hooves, tusks, and thunder.
The Black Tusk Boar charged with a roar that shook the clearing. Its tusks gleamed like scythes, thick as my arm and sharp enough to gut me in a single stroke. The ground trembled beneath its weight, dirt flying in sprays where its hooves struck.
I did not run.
The Codex's words burned in my skull—Breath is the current. Flow with it, do not fight it.
I inhaled. The warmth surged through my limbs, jagged and uneven, but there. I pushed off the earth with every ounce of force my new body could muster.
The boar's tusk ripped past my ribs in a blur. Pain lanced as the air pressure alone scraped my skin raw. But my body moved faster than thought. I twisted with the momentum, sliding along its flank, and slammed my palm—charged with crude qi—against its shoulder.
The impact wasn't elegant. It wasn't refined.
It was raw.
The beast grunted, its stride staggering for the briefest instant. Not damage, not yet—but disruption. Enough to make it stumble past me instead of skewering me outright.
I landed in a crouch, chest heaving, ribs aching from the near miss. My arms tingled, half-numb from the qi burst.
The boar skidded, tore up earth, and wheeled around. Saliva dripped from its fanged jaws as it fixed me with bloodshot eyes. Rage rolled off it in waves.
The System chimed, mercilessly calm:
[Damage inflicted: Minimal.]
[Qi Reserves: 72% remaining.]
[Suggestion: Target vulnerable areas—eyes, throat, underbelly.]
"I don't need a suggestion, I need a weapon!" I hissed.
But there was no answer. Just the thundering beast charging again.
This time I didn't try to meet it head on. I darted sideways, letting the new elven speed in my legs carry me farther than I'd expected. My body sang with agility I'd never known before. Sylas had been a survivor, yes—but this form? This was built for the hunt.
The boar's tusk slammed into a tree where I had stood. Wood split, bark exploded, the trunk groaned and toppled. The beast thrashed, tangled for a moment.
Opportunity.
I grabbed a fallen branch, jagged and sharp, and gripped it like a spear. My qi flared as I poured what little control I had into the crude weapon.
The Codex whispered again: Intention gives edge to the dullest blade.
I screamed and drove the branch forward, aiming for the beast's throat.
The barrier of coarse fur and thick hide resisted. The branch shuddered in my grip, splinters biting into my palms. The boar bellowed, twisting violently, throwing me aside like a ragdoll.
I hit the ground hard, air ripping from my lungs. My vision blurred, ribs howling with pain.
The System's voice cut sharp:
[Injury Sustained: Minor Fracture, Bruised Ribcage.]
[Qi Reserves: 49%.]
The boar ripped the branch free, blood dripping but shallow—barely a wound. Its eyes glowed with killing intent now.
I spat blood, forcing myself up. My body screamed to stay down, but my will was louder.
"You're not taking me," I growled. "Not here. Not in this life."
The warmth within me roared in response—louder, sharper, as if the Codex itself had heard my vow. Energy surged through my veins, wild and unrefined but powerful.
The System chimed in alarm:
[Emergency Surge Detected!]
[Warning: User control unstable. Risk of backlash.]
I didn't care.
The boar thundered forward one last time.
And I met it head on.
I ducked beneath its tusk at the final instant, sliding along the dirt, and slammed both palms into its underbelly. The surge of qi exploded outward, not a controlled strike but a violent blast of raw force.
The world flashed white.
The boar screamed—a guttural, ear-splitting roar—as the energy ripped into its softer flesh. It staggered, legs buckling, momentum crashing forward.
Its massive weight toppled past me, skidding in the dirt with a deafening crash. Blood sprayed the ground, dark and steaming.
Silence followed.
I knelt there, chest heaving, arms trembling from the backlash. My vision swam, every nerve screaming from the overdrawn qi. The beast twitched once, twice, then stilled—its golden eyes dimming into lifeless glass.
The System chimed softly, like a satisfied teacher:
[Battle Complete.]
[Black Tusk Boar — Defeated.]
[Reward: +Experience (Meridian), +Beast Core Acquired.]
A glowing orb of faint energy materialized above the beast's chest, drifting into my hand before I could even move. Warmth pulsed in my palm—dense, primal, and intoxicating.
The System's final note rang clear:
[Quest: Survive — Objective Complete.]
[Reward Unlocked: Primordial Elf Codex — First Layer Activated.]
I collapsed onto my back, the beast's blood staining the earth beside me. My chest burned, my ribs ached, and every breath felt like dragging knives through my lungs.
But for the first time in centuries, I smiled.
I had hunted. I had fought.
I had lived.
The Black Tusk Boar's corpse steamed in the clearing, its blood soaking into the roots of the forest. Flies would come soon. Predators after them. A corpse in the wilds was never left to rot in peace.
But my eyes weren't on the body.
They were fixed on the thing pulsing in my hand.
The beast core.
It was no larger than a clenched fist, dark and glassy on the outside but glowing faintly at its heart. I could feel it, even without guidance—the way the energy inside coiled, raw and potent, like a storm trapped in crystal. My Heavenly Root responded instantly, veins humming, skin prickling with hunger.
The System's voice intruded, calm and sharp:
[Beast Core Acquired: Black Tusk Boar (Low-Rank Spirit Beast).]
[Option: Refine core to fuel Primordial Elf Codex — First Layer.]
[Warning: Refinement carries risk of internal damage. Success Rate: 64%.]
"Sixty-four percent," I muttered, wiping blood from my lips. My ribs still screamed, my muscles trembled, and every sensible instinct whispered: wait.
But I looked at the corpse. I thought of the charge, of how close its tusk had come.
Seven days. That was all the protection I had.
If a boar had nearly killed me, what would I do when something stronger came?
Waiting wasn't survival.
I sat cross-legged again, the Codex unfolding in my mind like a door creaking open. Lines of golden script glowed faintly, whispering in a tongue I only half-remembered yet fully understood.
The first river flows through the dantian. Anchor it. Do not chase qi; invite it.
I closed my eyes and placed the core against my sternum. Warmth seeped instantly into my chest, flooding my meridians like a tide breaking a dam. I gasped—the force was wild, violent, threatening to rip me apart.
The System chimed:
[Qi Surge Detected.]
[Initiating Cultivation Protocol.]
The Codex whispered louder, its words folding over themselves: Roots must hold before branches reach. Anchor. Anchor.
I clenched my teeth and forced the storm downward, guiding it into the pit of my belly where the dantian rested, an empty vessel begging to be filled. The qi fought me—slashing, burning, tearing through channels too new, too soft.
Pain exploded behind my eyes. My spine arched as if lightning had split me.
[Warning: Qi deviation imminent.]
"No," I hissed. "Not like this. Not again."
I remembered Sylas—alone, fading, powerless as the world forgot his kind. I had sworn that Caelum Xian would be different. That I would not waste this chance.
"Anchor!" I roared, slamming my palms to the earth.
The ground itself seemed to answer. Roots dug into my skin, the world's qi pressing inward instead of fleeing. The storm of energy bent, resisted, then yielded. The core cracked in my hands with a soft, shattering sound, dissolving into pure light that surged into my body.
And then—silence.
Not the silence of emptiness, but of still water after the storm. My breath evened. My chest filled with warmth that no longer burned. It pulsed gently, rhythmically, like a second heartbeat in my belly.
The System chimed, voice ringing with finality:
[Primordial Elf Codex — First Layer Established.]
[Realm Advancement: Qi Refining, Stage 1.]
[Meridians: Stabilized.]
[Qi Reserves: 112% (Overflow).]
I opened my eyes.
The world had changed.
Every leaf shone with veins of faint light, every breeze carried whispers I hadn't noticed before. The air wasn't just air anymore—it was alive, heavy with threads of spirit I could touch if I reached.
For the first time in both lifetimes, I wasn't empty.
I was cultivating.
I stood slowly, strength flooding my limbs in waves. The ache of fractured ribs dulled, the bruises easing as qi threaded through me, repairing, refining. I flexed my hand, watching faint wisps of energy gather around my fingertips like smoke.
The System's panel blinked with a final update:
[Status Update:]
• Name: Caelum Xian
• Realm: Qi Refining — Stage 1
• Root: Heavenly Root (Growth Potential: SSS)
• Cultivation Method: Primordial Elf Codex (First Layer Active)
• Qi Capacity: 120% (Overflow, stabilizing)
A laugh bubbled from my throat—raw, incredulous, victorious. "Stage one," I said aloud. "I've finally stepped onto the path."
The laughter faded quickly, though, as a memory returned: the boy who had fled the clearing, eyes wide with terror.
Word would spread.
About a spirit beast's death. About a stranger who looked like an elf. About me.
I glanced once at the boar's carcass, then toward the deeper forest where ruins and danger both waited.
"Let them talk," I murmured, golden eyes narrowing. "I'll be ready."
The Codex hummed in my blood, the Heavenly Root thrumming with hunger for more.
The first step had been taken.
The path of Caelum Xian had truly begun.