The chamber trembled, the walls groaning under the weight of the battle. Stone cracked and dust billowed through the air as if the very foundation of the realm was beginning to crumble. Fissures spidered across the floor, jagged lines slicing through the once-smooth stone, as though the room itself was recoiling from the violence that had erupted within it.
Shattered remnants of what had once been pillars lay scattered like broken bones, their once-proud forms now reduced to rubble. The air was thick with the acrid scent of ozone and dust, mingling with the faint trace of blood.
And above all, the creature's growls reverberated through the chamber, low and guttural, vibrating the very stones beneath Yanwei's feet. Each growl sent a shiver down his spine, a reminder that this battle wasn't just about force—it was a contest of survival.
The creature paced, its movements slow but deliberate, its eyes fixed on Yanwei, glowing with a hunger that seemed to draw the very air towards it. A constant, palpable tension filled the space, the silence between its growls as thick as the shadows gathering in the corners of the chamber.
Yanwei's heart beat in time with the tremors beneath him. The fight wasn't over—far from it. And the worst was yet to come.
…
Yanwei stood still for a moment, calculating his next move, his mind racing with possibilities. The creature had paused, its movements stilled, as if waiting for something—an opportunity, a signal. The growling had quieted, leaving only the steady thrum of his own heartbeat in his ears. But something felt… wrong.
His eyes narrowed, scanning the creature. It stood there, still as stone, its predatory gaze fixed on him, but its body was no longer tensed, no longer ready to spring. The silence stretched between them, almost mocking.
For a fleeting moment, he thought the creature might be biding its time, preparing for something more. Maybe it had figured out that the direct approach wasn't working. Maybe it was planning something far more insidious.
But then, without warning, its finger—its bone-thin, elongated finger—snapped forward. It was a blur of motion, too fast to follow with the eye. Yanwei's instinct flared a second too late. The bone-like spike shot toward him like a spear, its speed impossibly fast, its trajectory precise. It came at him from an angle he hadn't considered.
He barely had time to react. His body moved before his mind could catch up, swerving just enough to avoid the full brunt of the attack. But it was too late to evade completely.
The sharp, bone-like attack pierced his right shoulder with a sickening crack, sending a wave of agony through his body. His breath caught in his throat, the pain flaring up like a wildfire, but he fought it down, refusing to show weakness.
In the split second of his shock, a thought cut through his pain: I didn't know this creature was so cunning… It's not just reacting on instinct, it's thinking, adapting its attacks, waiting for the right moment.
His pulse quickened, the pain from the wound throbbing in his shoulder, but he couldn't afford to lose focus. The creature wasn't just acting on its natural instincts—it was using them with purpose. Every move was calculated, every shift in its posture was a decision to manipulate the battle in its favor.
If not for my experience, and if some amateur Rank 2 cultivator were placed in my situation… their head would've literally been pierced by that attack already.
His breath steadied, his thoughts sharpening despite the pain. He couldn't afford to underestimate this creature. It wasn't just a monster with brute strength—it was using its cunning, its primal intellect, to test him. To see how much it could get away with. And he couldn't let that happen.
The creature's growl rumbled again, louder this time, echoing through the chamber like a drumbeat heralding the next phase of the fight. Yanwei's heart beat in time with the sound, his body tensing, ready. This fight wasn't just about survival anymore—it was about outsmarting a creature that was just as intelligent as it was dangerous.
The pain in his shoulder burned with every breath, but Yanwei didn't let it show. His mind was already working faster than his body, calculating his next move. The creature's attack had caught him off guard, but now he understood. This thing wasn't just a mindless beast; it was testing him, pushing him to his limits. It was cunning—its instincts sharpened by years of survival and battle, but it wasn't invincible.
Yanwei's eyes flicked around the chamber. The walls were lined with jagged stone, cracks running through them from previous battles, but the layout was still a potential weapon. He could use the space to his advantage—force the creature into a more confined area, make it lose its fluidity, its advantage in speed.
He exhaled slowly, gathering his thoughts. I can't beat it head-on, he realized. But I don't need to. If I can get it to the right spot, I can turn this around.
He stood a little straighter, ignoring the throb in his shoulder as he began to move with purpose. His steps were slow at first, measured—baiting the creature. His eyes darted toward the far wall, a rough, cracked expanse of stone, and he could almost hear the creature's growls echoing in his mind, its relentless desire to strike.
Yanwei took a calculated step backward, careful not to show his hand too soon. The creature, sensing the change in his demeanor, crouched lower, its eyes narrowing, preparing for another assault. It was watching him—calculating its next move. But Yanwei's plan was already in motion.
With a sudden, sharp motion, he feinted to the left, throwing the creature off balance for just a moment. The creature's reflexes were fast, but Yanwei knew exactly how to manipulate its instincts. He darted toward the wall, taking advantage of the tight space.
The creature followed, its predatory instincts pushing it forward, thinking it had the upper hand. It lunged, jaws snapping, claws outstretched, but Yanwei was ready. He twisted his body at the last possible second, driving himself into the wall with enough force to create a reverberating thud. The stone cracked under the impact, but more importantly, the movement forced the creature to follow in a predictable, linear path.
The creature's limbs flailed as it tried to adjust, but its momentum had already been set. It crashed into the wall with a deafening sound, the stone splintering under the impact. The force of its own movement worked against it, and for the first time, it hesitated, disoriented.
Yanwei didn't waste the opportunity. He pushed himself off the wall, his body moving fluidly as he circled behind the creature, his eyes gleaming with the sharpness of a predator.
He had it now. The environment was his ally.
He could see the creature struggling to right itself, but Yanwei's mind was already calculating the next step. He would need to make the creature believe it had control, make it think it had cornered him. And when the time came, when it lunged for the kill, he'd turn the tables once again.
The creature's massive body slammed into the stone wall with a resounding crack, the force of the impact sending shockwaves through the chamber. It staggered, its movements erratic, disoriented from the collision. Growls rumbled deep in its chest, a mix of anger and fear, but Yanwei could see it—there was hesitation in its eyes now, something flickering behind the fury. The beast was reacting not just with strength, but with instinct, trying to assess the situation, to calculate its next move.
Yanwei saw his opening.
His fingers brushed the cold pendant of the necklace around his neck—the one taken from Zhang's body. Its full power remained unclear, but Yanwei knew exactly what it could do. He didn't need more information, just this.
Without a moment's hesitation, Yanwei ripped the necklace off. The air around him distorted in an instant as the power surged through him. The creature froze, its instincts flaring in alarm, but it had no time to react.
In the blink of an eye, Yanwei vanished.
The creature whipped its head around, frantic, trying to track his movement, but he was gone. Its growls faltered, eyes wide with confusion and fear. It could sense something was wrong, something it couldn't understand.
Then, before it could make sense of the shift, Yanwei reappeared directly in front of it. The creature's instincts kicked in, desperate to flee, but it was too late. Its limbs moved in a futile attempt to dodge as Yanwei's blade found its mark in the creature's throat with a sickening crunch.
The beast let out a final, guttural gasp, its eyes wide with shock and pain, before its body collapsed, life draining away.
Yanwei stood over it, breathing evenly as he wiped the blood from his blade. The creature's instincts had been fast, but it couldn't react to his calculated move. The necklace had allowed him to close the distance and strike before its survival instincts could take full control.