The sun barely crested the jagged peaks of the Beast Vein Continent, casting a blood-orange glow over the mist-shrouded valleys below.
Ash stood at the edge of the clan's encampment, his heart pounding like a war drum.
Today was the day of the First Hunt. At sixteen, I was finally deemed ready to hunt to track and bond with my first Genome Beast, a creature whose essence would merge with my soul and shape my destiny.
The air buzzed with anticipation. Around me, a dozen other young cultivators, adjusted their leather harnesses and double checked their spears. The clan elders, grizzled warriors with scars that told tales of their own beast-bonded battles, stood at the forefront.
Master Korren, his silver hair braided with the feathers of a Sky claw Raptor, raised a gnarled hand for silence.
"Today, you are no longer boys," master Korren's voice rumbled like distant thunder. "Today, you become Hunters—or you die.
The Beast Vein Continent does not forgive weakness. Find your Genome Beast, prove your worth, and return with its core bound. Fail, and the wilds will claim you."
I swallowed hard, my fingers tightening around the hilt of my dagger, a gift from my late father, etched with the spiraling runes of our clan.
I glanced at Torren, who flashed me a nervous grin. "Ready to snag a Storm fang Wolf, Ash?" Torren whispered, his eyes gleaming with bravado. "Or are you aiming higher? like maybe a Thunderclap Snapping Eel?"
"Don't jinx me," I muttered, though a spark of ambition flickered in my chest.
Genome Beasts were no ordinary creatures.
Born from the continent's primal energies, each carried a unique genetic core—a crystalline organ that pulsed with power.
Bonding with one meant harnessing its strength, but the bond was a gamble. A weak beast could hinder cultivation; and a strong one could drive them mad if their will wasn't enough.
The master Korren led the group into the Verdant Rift, a sprawling canyon where the earth thrummed with life.
Vines thicker than a man's arm coiled around ancient trees, and the air hummed with the distant roars of unseen beasts. My senses sharpened as we trekked deeper, my training kicking in—eyes scanning for claw marks, nostrils flaring for the musky scent of a nearby Genome Beast. Suddenly, Korren halted, pointing to a trail of scorched earth snaking through the undergrowth. "Ember Coil tracks," he growled.
Master Korren pointed to an ''S'' like track pattern in the ground.
"These tracks are fresh. One of you will face it—or it will face you." The other boys exchanged wary glances, but I felt a strange pull, like a whisper in my blood. The tracks seemed to call out to me. The Verdant Rift pulsed with life, a symphony of rustling leaves and distant beast cries echoing through the canyon.
Master Korren raised his Saber beast fang spear, its tip glinting in the fractured sunlight. "The First Hunt begins!" he bellowed, his voice shaking the air like a thunderclap. "Find your Genome Beast! Claim the wild or let the wilds claim you. Go!" The hunters scattered like sparks from a fire, each vanishing into the dense undergrowth, their footsteps muffled by the mossy earth.
I sprinted forward, my heart hammering, but the weight of my simple dagger at my hip was a steady anchor. The Verdant Rift was a labyrinth of towering ferns and twisted roots, every shadow hiding potential glory—or death.
As I moved deeper into the territory, my mind churned. The choice of Genome Beast wasn't just about survival; it was about the foundation I would build, the core of my power as a Beast Continent cultivator.
An Attack Type Genome Beast—like a storm fang wolf or a blaze sting scorpion—would forge an offensive strength foundation, granting me speed and ferocity to overwhelm foes. I imagined myself darting through battle, striking like lightning, my enemies crumbling before my beast-bonded might.
But a heavily armored Genome Beast—a Stone-hide Behemoth or Ironclad Tortoise—would anchor a defensive foundation that would turn my flesh to steel, unyielding against even the fiercest strikes. I paused near a gnarled tree; its bark scored with fresh claw marks.
I crouched, tracing the gouges with my fingers. Deep, jagged—likely the Ember Coil, like Korren had pointed out. My pulse quickened.
An Ember coil was an attack type, its fiery scales and whip-like tail perfect for an offensive foundation. But could I handle it? Slaying a Genome Beast wasn't just about finding one; it required skill, precision, and nerve. One misstep, and I'd be ash on the wind.
The beast's core—that crystalline organ pulsing with primal energy—had to be claimed intact, or the bond would fail, leaving me empty-handed or worse hindering future cultivation.
I tightened my grip on the dagger, its runes catching the light that filtered down through the jungle canopy. ' 'Skill matters as much as the beast' ' I reminded myself.
My father's voice echoed in my mind, ' ' A hunter's strength is in their will.' ' Even a weak beast wouldn't bow to a weak intent. My training had honed my reflexes, I had trained against many low-level genome beasts, but I had never faced a thing as dangerous as an ember coil. Could I outwit a creature born of the continent's raw power? Could I drive my blade true and claim its core?
My breath caught.
The ember coil was close.
I stood, torn between caution and ambition, my future Foundation hanging in the balance. A low hiss broke my thoughts. I crept forward, my steps silent on the mossy ground, every sense attuned to the rift's pulse. The air grew warmer, heavy with the scent of charred earth. The ember coil's tracks deepened, scorched vines curling at their edges. My mind raced, weighing my options.
An offensive foundation would make me a force of destruction, a cultivator who could carve through the continent's dangers.
But a defensive foundation offered survival, a chance to endure the brutal trials of the Beast Vein Continent.
What kind of cultivator do I want to be? I wondered, my dagger a heavy reminder of the legacy I carried.
The hiss grew louder, now a guttural crackle. I ducked behind a boulder, peering into a small clearing. There it was—the ember coil. Its serpentine body, thirty feet long, it shimmered with scales that glowed like molten iron. Its tail lashed, igniting sparks where it struck the ground, and its eyes burned with predatory cunning.
The beast's core, pulsed like a heartbeat forged from magma, visible just beneath molten scales."
My mouth went dry. This was no practice dummy. This was a creature of primal fury, and it was watching me.
I gripped my dagger, recalling master Korren's training: ' 'Strike fast, aim for the core, but never let it pin or corner you. Maintain environmental advantage. The Ember coil's Attack Type nature made it fast, lethal, perfect for the Offensive Foundation he'd been leaning toward. But its speed meant one mistake could end me.
My time growing up in the clan had trained me how to read a beast's movements, to anticipate its strikes, but could I match this creature's ferocity? The core had to be extracted cleanly—shatter it, and the bond was impossible. If I hesitated, I'd be burned to cinders. The Ember coil coiled, its head rearing back, flames licking from its jaws.
My heart thundered, but remembering the ''pushing wind'' breathing technique I forced my breathing to steady. Skill and will, I thought, channeling my father's words. I stepped into the clearing, dagger raised, ready to claim my Foundation—or die trying. I circled the clearing, my boots crunching on scorched earth, eyes locked on the Ember coil's glowing orbs. The beast hissed, its tail whipping up a gust of sparks that stung my face and skin!
I needed to test its speed, to see if my training could keep up with an attack type's ferocity.
' 'Stay moving, don't let it coil around you!' ' The ember coil lunged, its jaws snapping with a burst of flame! I dove to the side, rolling across the ground as heat seared the air above me! I sprang up, slashing my dagger at the beast's flank, aiming for a gap in its molten scales. The blade grazed, drawing a thin line of blood, but the Ember coil's tail whipped around, forcing me to leap back.
Sparks flew where the tail struck, igniting a patch of dry vines. Fast—too fast, I thought, my heart racing.
The offensive foundation this beast promised would amplify my own speed, but only if I could match it now. The ember coil reared, its core pulsing brighter, as if sensing my intent. I noticed its movements—fluid but predictable, always coiling left before striking. My training kicked in: read the pattern, strike the weakness.
I darted to the right, baiting the beast to follow. It lunged again, flames roaring from its maw, but I anticipated the move, ducking under the attack and thrusting my dagger toward its underbelly! The blade bit deeper this time, and the ember coil screeched, thrashing wildly!
Pain flared in my arm as a stray ember burned through my simple cultivator uwagi, instantly blistering my skin. I gritted my teeth, refusing to falter. The core was close, just beneath the beast's chest, but its thrashing tail and fiery breath kept me at bay.
' 'I need to be faster!' '
The allure of the offensive foundation grew stronger. But doubt gnawed at my intent—could I withstand this beast's onslaught long enough to claim the core, or would a defensive foundation have been a safer route?
The clearing was now a haze of smoke and flame; the ground littered with charred vines. My breath came in sharp gasps; my muscles burned from dodging the Ember coil's relentless attacks. Finally, I saw an opening. The beast's coiling slowed, its energy focused on a massive flame building in its throat. It was now or never.
I sprinted forward, weaving through a volley of embers, and leaped onto a boulder for height. ' 'Environmental control.' '
As the ember coil unleashed a torrent of fire, I vaulted over it, landing on the beast's back! I drove the dagger down, aiming for a nerve cluster. The blade struck true, piercing scales, but the ember coil bucked violently, throwing me off.
I hit the ground hard, my vision swimming. The beast whirled, its tail lashing toward me. I rolled desperately, the tail grazing my side, tearing my uwagi and leaving a searing welt. The core remained intact, but I was running out of strength.
' 'Skill and will' '
I forced myself to stand. The offensive foundation was within reach, but one wrong move would end me. My body ached, my arm trembling as I raised the dagger.
The ember coil's eyes narrowed, sensing weakness, but I saw something else—its core pulsed erratically, a sign of fatigue. It was tiring, just like me. I had one chance. Feinting left, I drew the beast's strike, then dove right, sliding under its snapping jaws. With every ounce of strength, I plunged my dagger up into the Ember coil's chest, directly above the core! The beast roared, flames erupting in a final, desperate surge. I held fast, twisting the blade to carve around the core without shattering it.
The ember coil collapsed, its glow fading, and I yanked the dagger free, grabbing the core I tore it free; a ruby-like core clutched in my bloodied hand.
I staggered back, gasping, the weight of the victory sinking in. The core thrummed with power, promising an offensive strength foundation that would make me a force among cultivators. But as I stood over the fallen beast, doubt lingered. Had I chosen the right path? The offensive foundation would make me lethal, but the pain in my body whispered of the durability a defensive foundation might have offered.
For now, I'd survived, my skill and intent proven. The Verdant Rift fell silent, and I turned back toward the Iron fang Clan, core in hand, ready to face my future.