Tyler Mason PoV
The trees rose before me like nature's skyscrapers, their trunks so massive that ten people linking hands couldn't encircle them. Their canopies disappeared into the clouds, blocking out chunks of sky and casting the forest floor in perpetual twilight. I'd been traveling alone for the last few days, pushing farther from American City than most cultivators dared, and these giants marked the border of truly dangerous territory.
I found a decent camping spot between two enormous roots that curved out of the ground like the ribs of some buried leviathan. The natural alcove provided cover on three sides, which was about as safe as it got out here.
My storage ring flashed as I pulled out a thick blanket, spreading it across the relatively flat ground. Next came a sealed container of spiritual beast soup I'd made two days ago. The ring's preservation properties kept it fresh and steaming hot, as if I'd just taken it off the fire. Way better than the dried jerky I'd seen other hunters gnawing on during their expeditions.
Cooking out here would've been suicide. The smell of fresh meat would call every spiritual beast within ten miles straight to my location. I'd learned that lesson watching three idiots try to roast a rabbit near the city outskirts. They'd attracted a pack of wolves within minutes and barely made it back alive.
I settled onto the blanket, the warm container heating my hands. Dad had mentioned during our last conversation that Ben had already reached the Meridian Opening realm. My little brother, the one I used to give shit for spending too much time in his room coding, was now some cultivation prodigy who crafted his own artifacts. That bastard was really making me look bad with my measly Body Tempering seventh layer.
I laughed to myself, the sound swallowed by the forest's oppressive silence. Not that I could complain too much—Ben had given me most of the gear I relied on to survive out here.
Independence was important to me. Always had been. I'd moved across the country to prove I could make it on my own, without family connections or handouts. But turning down Ben's equipment would've been stupid pride, not independence. The stuff he'd crafted was legitimately life-saving.
Case in point—the fist-sized crystal I pulled from my ring. Inscriptions covered every surface in intricate patterns that seemed to shift in the fading light. Ben called it a Detection Crystal, and it was probably the only reason I'd survived my first night beyond the safe zones.
I placed it carefully at the edge of my blanket. The inscriptions flared briefly as the crystal was exposed to the spiritual energy in the air, then settled into a steady pulse. The crystal created an invisible sphere around my position, about twenty feet in every direction. Anything already inside when I activated it wouldn't trigger the sensor—only new creatures crossing from outside would set it off.
The spiritual energy saturating the air powered the crystal continuously, meaning I didn't need to have vital energy to use it. When something crossed the barrier, the crystal would vibrate violently enough to wake me from sleep.
Sleep came in fragments, broken by the occasional rustle of leaves or distant animal call. Each time my eyes snapped open, I'd find the Detection Crystal still pulsing steadily—nothing had crossed the barrier. Still, my hand never strayed far from the pole-axe lying beside me.
Morning light filtered through the canopy in scattered beams, illuminating dust motes that drifted through the air like tiny spirits. I sat up, my back protesting the hard ground despite the blanket's cushioning. Not the worst night I'd had, but definitely not the comfortable bed waiting for me back in Boston. Or the cultivation chambers Ben kept offering to let me use.
I packed the blanket and empty container back into my storage ring, then pulled out the armor Ben had crafted for me. The leather pieces materialized in my hands before flowing across my body like living things, adjusting themselves to fit perfectly. Bracers locked around my forearms, leg guards wrapped my shins and thighs, and the chest piece settled against my torso with a reassuring weight.
The pole-axe came next. Nearly six feet of reinforced spiritual wood topped with a crescent blade on one side and a wicked spike on the other. Heavy enough to crush bone, sharp enough to pierce hide. My favorite weapon by far—gave me reach and versatility that swords couldn't match.
I set off deeper into the forest, leaving the relative safety of the alcove behind. Most cultivators were content hunting the herbivore rabbits that populated the plains around American City. Easy prey, minimal risk, steady merit point income. Safe.
Boring as hell.
As far as I was concerned, I wouldn't find treasure if I played it safe. The real rewards waited in places nobody else dared to go.
The forest came alive around me as I walked. Birds I couldn't see called to each other from the canopy above, their songs echoing through the massive trees. Insects buzzed and clicked from the undergrowth, creating a constant background hum. Somewhere in the distance, water rushed over rocks—a stream or maybe a waterfall. Wind whispered through leaves the size of dinner plates, rustling them together with sounds like shuffling papers.
Every few steps, something would crack or snap in the underbrush, freezing me in place until I identified the source. Usually just small animals fleeing my approach, but out here, hesitation could mean the difference between life and death.
The spiritual energy grew thicker as I ventured deeper, making each breath feel more substantial. My meridians absorbed it automatically, feeding my cultivation even as I explored.
That's when I spotted the first herb—a cluster of silver-leafed plants growing between the roots of a massive tree. The leaves practically glowed with stored spiritual energy. I pulled out a small knife and carefully harvested them, placing each leaf in a separate container from my ring.
My identity token warmed against my palm.
[Discovery Registered: Silverleaf Herb. Reward: 150 Merit Points]
I grinned. One hundred fifty points for a plant nobody else had found yet. This was exactly what I'd hoped for.
The forest continued to reward my risk-taking over the next two hours. I found clusters of moss that pulsed with faint blue light, growing on the north side of the ancient trees. My token registered them as Dawnmoss, netting me another hundred merit points. Then came a patch of mushrooms with caps that shifted colors like oil on water—Prism Caps, worth two hundred points.
Each discovery fed my desire to push deeper. The safe zones around the cities were picked clean by now, thousands of cultivators competing for the same scraps. Out here, I had the entire wilderness to myself.
The underbrush grew thicker as I moved between two particularly massive trees. Vines hung from branches high above, creating natural curtains that blocked much of the filtered sunlight. I had to duck under a particularly low-hanging tangle when my taut senses caught a subtle sound.
I spun, pole-axe coming up in a defensive stance.
The vines exploded outward in a shower of torn leaves and broken stems. A massive cat-like creature burst through, its body easily twice the size of a Bengal tiger. Midnight fur rippled over corded muscle, and eyes the color of molten gold fixed on me with predatory focus. Curved fangs, each as long as my forearm, gleamed in the scattered light.
I didn't wait for it to finish its lunge.
My pole-axe swung in a wide arc, the blade catching the beast across its shoulder as it twisted mid-air. The impact sent vibrations up my arms, and I felt the weapon bite through fur and muscle before the creature's momentum carried it past me. Blood sprayed in a crimson arc, painting the nearby undergrowth.
The cat landed with impossible grace despite the wound, spinning to face me again. A low growl rumbled from its chest, resonating in my bones. Its shoulder bled freely, but the injury only seemed to enrage it further.
It circled left, and I matched its movement, keeping the pole-axe between us. My heart hammered against my ribs, but my hands stayed steady. Panic got you killed. Focus kept you breathing.
The beast feinted right, then launched itself at my left side with explosive speed. I barely got the pole-axe's shaft up in time. Claws raked across the reinforced wood, gouging deep furrows. The force drove me back three steps, my boots sliding through the dirt.
I thrust the spiked end forward, catching the cat in its wounded shoulder. The spike punched through meat and scraped against bone. The creature yowled, a sound that echoed through the forest and sent birds scattering from the canopy above.
It ripped itself free, leaving a chunk of flesh on my weapon. Blood poured from the gaping wound now, matting its fur and dripping onto the forest floor. Good. Let it bleed.
But wounded predators were the most dangerous kind.
The cat's eyes narrowed, intelligence gleaming behind the feral rage. It stalked forward, muscles coiling beneath its pelt. No more wild charges. This time it moved with calculated precision.
I shifted my grip on the pole-axe, angling the blade downward. The beast circled again, looking for an opening I refused to give. Sweat ran down my spine despite the cool forest air.
It struck like lightning.
Claws flashed toward my face. I ducked under the swipe and drove the axe blade upward, aiming for the exposed belly. The cat twisted impossibly fast, my blade catching only air. Its hind leg lashed out, catching me in the ribs despite the chest guard. The impact lifted me off my feet and sent me crashing into a tree trunk.
Pain exploded across my back. The pole-axe slipped from my grip, clattering to the ground three feet away.
The beast didn't hesitate. It lunged forward, jaws gaping wide.
I rolled left, the cat's fangs snapping shut on empty air where my head had been. Bark exploded from the tree trunk, splinters raining down around us. My hand found the pole-axe's shaft, fingers wrapping tight around familiar wood.
The creature turned, blood still flowing from its shoulder. We stared at each other across five feet of forest floor, both breathing hard, both bleeding.
Neither of us willing to back down.
The cat's muscles bunched for another attack. Blood loss was slowing it down—I could see the tremor in its legs, the way its head dipped slightly lower than before. But wounded animals fought with desperation, and desperation made them unpredictable.
I pushed off the tree trunk, bringing the pole-axe up in both hands. My ribs screamed in protest, but I ignored them. Pain meant I was still alive.
The beast charged.
I planted my feet and thrust the spike forward with everything I had. The cat tried to dodge, but its injured shoulder betrayed it. The spike caught it just below the ribcage, punching through muscle and into the chest cavity. The creature's momentum carried it forward, driving the weapon deeper.
Hot blood gushed over my hands. The cat's claws raked across my bracers, leaving scratches in the leather but not breaking through. Its weight bore down on the pole-axe, threatening to rip it from my grip.
I twisted the weapon viciously and felt something vital tear inside the beast. The cat's eyes went wide. Its mouth opened in a silent scream, blood bubbling between those massive fangs.
Then the light in its golden eyes faded.
The body went limp, nearly dragging me down with its weight. I braced my boot against its chest and yanked the pole-axe free. The creature collapsed onto the forest floor with a heavy thud that sent up a small cloud of dirt and dead leaves.
I stood there panting, weapon still raised, waiting to make sure it was truly dead. The forest had gone silent around us, as if every living thing held its breath.
My identity token flared hot against my palm, almost burning.
[Discovery Registered: Shadow Stalker. New Species. Reward: 2,000 Merit Points]
My legs gave out. I sat down hard, not caring about the dirt or the pooling blood. Two thousand merit points. Two thousand. Most cultivators earned maybe fifty points a day hunting rabbits and gathering common herbs.
I'd just made a month's worth of points in one fight.
The Shadow Stalker's corpse lay before me, still radiating residual spiritual energy. Its pelt alone was probably worth a fortune—midnight fur that seemed to absorb light, perfect for stealth equipment. The fangs could be crafted into weapons. The core inside its skull would fetch thousands more merit points if I sold it to the right buyer.
I pulled out a knife and got to work, carefully harvesting what I could carry. The pelt came off in one piece after some effort, revealing corded muscle beneath. I cut out the fangs, wrapped them in cloth, and stored them in my ring. Then came the messy part—cracking open the skull to reach the core.
The beast core gleamed like a dark ruby in my palm, roughly the size of a golf ball. Spiritual energy pulsed through it in waves, making my hand tingle. This thing was condensed power, the crystallization of years of cultivation compressed into a single object.
I stored it carefully in a separate compartment of my ring, away from everything else.
My ribs throbbed where the cat had kicked me, and my back felt like one giant bruise from hitting the tree. Nothing broken though. The body tempering I'd achieved had saved me from worse injuries.
I looked deeper into the forest, where the trees grew even larger and the shadows darker.
Ben could keep his safe workshops and comfortable cultivation chambers. This was where I belonged—out here in the wilderness, taking risks nobody else would.