The morning mist thinned as the sun climbed higher, washing the forest in soft gold. Birds called from distant branches, and the scent of damp leaves mingled with the faint traces of ash from their extinguished fire.
Li Tianlan adjusted the pack on his shoulder, glancing toward the girl who walked a few paces ahead. Mingyue moved with effortless grace — her white-and-silver robes fluttered lightly in the wind, her posture composed, almost ethereal. Even after the ordeal she had described, there was no hint of weakness in her steps.
They had set out not long after sunrise, the forest around them still alive with the waking calls of unseen creatures. For Tianlan, each sound — a rustle in the leaves, a distant growl, even the whistle of wind — carried a new weight.
After Mingyue's words last night, he could no longer look upon the forest as simple wilderness. Every shadow seemed to hide danger. Every patch of silence felt like the breath of something unseen.
He glanced again at her, the faint shimmer of qi still lingering around her body like a veil of moonlight. So this is what a cultivator is, he thought, both awe and disbelief stirring in his chest.
"Keep close," Mingyue said without turning, her voice quiet but firm. "Even the lesser beasts here are not to be underestimated."
Tianlan nodded quickly. "Right. I'll… I'll be careful."
They walked in silence for some time. The forest grew denser, the sunlight breaking through in slanted beams. Roots coiled beneath the soil like sleeping serpents. Every now and then, Tianlan caught glimpses of movement between the trees — a flash of fur, a gleam of eyes — only for it to vanish when Mingyue's gaze swept that way.
It amazed him how calm she seemed. Her senses appeared to stretch far beyond his; she would pause now and then, head tilting slightly, as though listening to something distant, before continuing without a word.
He wanted to ask questions — about qi, about cultivation, about how one became strong — but something in her presence silenced him. Mingyue was not a person who spoke idly. Her calm was not indifference; it was distance — the quiet stillness of someone who had already seen too much.
Hours passed. By midday, the trees thinned slightly, revealing a shallow ravine where a stream wound between moss-covered stones. They paused there to rest.
Tianlan cupped his hands in the cold water and drank deeply, feeling the chill spread through his chest. "This place… it's beautiful," he murmured, glancing around.
Mingyue sat nearby, her sword laid across her lap, eyes half-closed. "Beauty and danger often share the same roots," she said softly.
Before he could reply, the air changed.
A ripple passed through the forest — subtle but unmistakable. Birds went silent. The rustle of leaves ceased. Even the wind seemed to still.
Mingyue's eyes snapped open. The faint silver light around her body brightened, sharp and cold.
"Step back," she said quietly. "Something approaches."
Tianlan froze, every instinct screaming at him to move. He stumbled back toward the stream's edge, his heart pounding.
From the shadows between the trees, a low growl rolled out — deep, guttural, primal. The underbrush quivered. Then, with a crash, it emerged.
The creature was massive — a wolf-like beast, its fur the color of ash streaked with crimson. Its eyes burned with faint gold light, and its fangs glistened as it bared them. Each step it took left cracks in the soil. The air around it shimmered faintly with qi — dense, oppressive, almost tangible.
"A late Qi Refining beast," Mingyue murmured under her breath. "Too close to Foundation Establishment."
Tianlan felt his knees weaken. The beast's gaze locked on him first — as though sensing the weakest prey.
It growled, saliva hissing as it struck the ground. Then it lunged.
Tianlan barely had time to shout before Mingyue moved.
She rose like the wind itself, a blur of silver and white. The ground cracked beneath her feet as she stepped forward, her sword flashing from its sheath. The blade gleamed like a sliver of moonlight, and for a moment Tianlan could not even follow her movement.
A sharp sound split the air — metal meeting force, qi clashing against flesh. The beast's claw struck where she had stood a heartbeat before, carving a trench into the earth.
Mingyue's figure flickered, appearing above the beast in mid-air. Her expression was cold, focused, utterly calm.
"Moonlight Severing Art — Second Form."
Her voice was soft — almost a whisper — but the world itself seemed to tremble.
A crescent of pure light burst from her sword, cutting downward in a silver arc. It struck the beast's shoulder, slicing through fur and flesh with a hiss like burning metal.
The creature howled, staggering back. Blood — dark and steaming — splattered across the stones.
Tianlan could only watch, frozen between fear and awe. He had never imagined such power could exist — that a single person could move like lightning, command light itself, and stand unflinching before a monster twice her size.
The beast roared and lunged again, faster this time. Mingyue met it head-on.
Their clash was a blur — flashes of steel and silver light, claws tearing through air, earth shattering beneath their feet. Each impact sent shockwaves through the ground.
Tianlan was thrown back by the force, landing hard against a rock. He winced but could not look away. The world around her seemed to bend and shift, drawn to her presence. She moved like moonlight reflected on water — untouchable, fluid, deadly.
Still, the beast refused to fall easily. It howled again, qi flaring from its body in a surge of heat and fury. The ground scorched beneath its paws, and even Mingyue's face tightened slightly as she deflected another blow.
She's struggling, Tianlan realized, panic twisting in his chest.
The wolf-beast's claws came within inches of her face. Then — suddenly — she vanished.
A heartbeat later, she reappeared behind it.
The moonlight around her blade condensed into a sharp, trembling glow.
"Third Form — Lunar Eclipse."
The blade cut through the air in silence. Then came the sound — a deep, resonant crack, like the heavens splitting apart.
The beast froze.
Its body convulsed once… then slowly collapsed.
For a long moment, only the wind moved. The scent of blood filled the air.
Mingyue stood over the fallen beast, her chest rising and falling faintly. The glow around her sword flickered once before fading. She sheathed the weapon in a single smooth motion.
Tianlan stared, words failing him. The sheer finality of what he had witnessed left him shaken. This was no legend — no story of distant immortals. This was power, real and terrible.
She turned toward him, her expression unreadable. "Are you injured?"
He blinked, realizing his hands were trembling. "N-no… I'm fine."
Mingyue gave a faint nod and glanced toward the corpse. "A late Qi Refining beast. Stronger than expected. It seems my wounds have not fully recovered after all."
She crouched beside the beast and withdrew a small crystal from within its chest — a faintly glowing core, pulsing with dim light.
"A beast core," she explained softly. "Condensed qi. Useful for cultivation."
Tianlan stared at the shimmering gem, captivated. "You… you can use that to grow stronger?"
"Yes. To replenish or refine one's qi." Her gaze lifted to meet his, calm and distant. "This is the reality of cultivation — strength taken from the world, from beasts, from others if necessary. The strong advance. The weak perish."
Her words hung in the air like frost.
Tianlan swallowed hard. "Then… if I were to become a cultivator, I'd have to fight like that too?"
"You would have to fight far worse."
Silence followed — broken only by the wind whispering through the trees.
He looked at her again — at the faint gleam of sweat on her brow, the quiet determination in her eyes. She looked so human, and yet so far beyond anything he could ever imagine.
A strange feeling welled in him — part admiration, part fear, part burning resolve.
"I want to learn," he said finally. His voice trembled but did not break. "I want to walk that path."
Mingyue regarded him for a long time. "Even if it consumes you?"
"Even then."
She studied him in silence, then turned away, gazing toward the horizon where the forest thinned and the faint outline of distant mountains glimmered beneath the afternoon sun.
"The road ahead is cruel," she said softly. "If you truly wish to take that step, then remember this — strength demands a price. Once you set foot upon that path, there is no turning back."
Tianlan nodded, his hands clenching into fists. "I've already lost too much to turn back."
For the first time, a faint, almost invisible smile touched her lips. It wasn't warmth — more like the reflection of moonlight on cold steel.
"Very well, Li Tianlan," she murmured. "Then let us see if fate truly favors mortals."
They walked on as the light faded, their shadows long and wavering across the ground. Behind them, the forest whispered with life again — wind through leaves, distant cries, the hush of unseen watchers.
Ahead, the path curved east, toward Yunhe Town — and toward a world neither of them could yet imagine.
The first battle marks the first awakening.Li Tianlan, a mortal untouched by qi, now walks beside one who wields the moon itself.What he saw that day was not only power — it was the vast gulf between heaven and earth, between what he is and what he yearns to become.
And Mingyue, cold and silent as ever, hides behind her calm the unspoken truth: power is never given — it is taken, carved from the edge of one's own pain.