Theos spent the entire day confined within his room, immersing himself in the exploration of his newfound abilities. The quiet chamber, bathed in the soft glow of the afternoon sun filtering through the window, became his testing ground. He sat cross-legged on the wooden floor, his crimson eyes gleaming with anticipation as he activated his Supreme Eyes.
The moment his ability surged to life, the world around him transformed. A vibrant array of colors filled his vision—golden wisps of energy flowing like unseen rivers, swirling eddies of power forming in the air, and countless specks of spirit energy scattered throughout the space. It was breathtaking, an entirely different realm hidden beneath the mundane. Theos reached out, his fingers brushing against the unseen streams of energy. A tingling sensation coursed through his fingertips, like the static before a storm. The energy felt both alive and resistant, flowing past him in endless currents. As he focused, it gradually yielded to his will, swirling around his hand like invisible threads of warmth and power, pulsing in time with his heartbeat. He marveled at the sensation—this was no mere trick of light. It was the very essence of the world, waiting to be shaped.
With the slightest effort, he willed the energy to move. It resisted at first, slipping through his control like grains of sand between his fingers. But his focus sharpened, his will unwavering. The energy shifted, bending to his intent. It coiled around his palm, an ethereal ribbon of light obeying his command. A small smirk played at the corner of his lips.
"So this is energy manipulation..." he mused, his voice a quiet whisper in the solitude of his room.
For others, the process of drawing in and absorbing spirit energy required deep concentration, extensive meditation, and a painstaking amount of time. Yet, for him, it was almost instinctual. The tiniest effort yielded immediate results. However, he refrained from absorbing the energy directly. He understood the risks—his body, untempered and unfortified, would be unable to contain the power. To do so would mean certain death.
Instead, he turned his thoughts to the foundation of cultivation itself. He recalled the three known realms of early cultivation: Bone Forging, Muscle Forging, and Spirit Gathering.
"Human bodies, in their natural state, are too fragile to withstand external spirit energy," Theos pondered aloud, his expression thoughtful. "Absorbing energy without preparation would cause the body to rupture and explode. That's why Bone and Muscle Forging exist first..."
He traced an invisible pattern in the air, watching the swirling energy respond to his movements.
"The process begins with using the spirit energy already present within the body to temper the bones, reinforcing them until they become as strong as tempered steel. Then comes Muscle Forging, strengthening the muscles to withstand the energy that follows. Only after both are completed can one advance to Spirit Gathering—absorbing energy from the environment without self-destruction."
He clenched his fists, his desire to advance gnawing at him. He wanted to begin Bone Forging immediately, to take the first step into cultivation. But there was a problem—he had no Cultivation Tome to guide him. Without one, the process would be reckless, perhaps even impossible.
A sigh escaped his lips. For all his abilities, he was still bound by the fundamental limitations of cultivation.
Setting aside his experiments with energy, Theos turned his thoughts to something that had lingered in the back of his mind—the mystery of his reincarnation.
"I was strong in my past life... I can feel it," he muttered, his eyes narrowing. Yet, no further details surfaced. The knowledge remained elusive, shrouded in an impenetrable fog. Was it due to the nature of his rebirth? Or was something—someone—preventing him from remembering?
He exhaled sharply, shaking his head. For now, this mystery could wait. He needed to focus on the present.
Just then, a voice cut through his thoughts.
"Theos! Theos, come outside!"
It was his father, Samuel, calling from the living room.
Theos blinked, snapping out of his contemplation. His father's voice carried urgency, yet a warmth that reassured him. Pushing himself to his feet, he dusted off his robes and made his way toward the door, leaving behind the whirling energy still lingering in the air.
"Yes, Papa!" Theos responded excitedly, his crimson eyes gleaming as he hurried to the living room. His father, Samuel, stood by the wooden table, a faint smile appearing on his face as he saw the happiness radiating from his son. He had seen that look before—it was the look of someone who had discovered something truly remarkable.
"You've found something good on your status screen, haven't you?" Samuel asked knowingly, his deep voice calm yet filled with interest.
Theos beamed. "Papa, I will become strong!"
Samuel chuckled, placing a reassuring hand on Theos' shoulder. "I know, my son."
They talked for a while longer, discussing trivial matters before Samuel's tone became serious. "The reason I called you, Theos, is because Elder Marcus visited today. He informed me that in three years, cultivators from the great sects will arrive to find those with talent. You need to prepare yourself to prove your strength."
Theos frowned slightly, his mind processing the information quickly. "Three years...?"
Samuel nodded. "This time, three individuals in our village have awakened their talents including you. Although nobody knows what talent you awakened, because of the light from your awakening everyone knows that you have awakened something. Because of that, Elder Marcus reached out to the sects, and they have granted all of you three years to hone your skills. However, getting into a sect is no easy feat. Normal people don't have high-grade cultivation manuals, making it incredibly difficult to become strong before the selection. The sects will judge candidates based on talent and comprehension alone. If you can showcase your potential, they will take you in."
Theos nodded, determination flashing in his eyes. This was his moment—the chance to prove himself, not just to his father or the sects, but to himself. The thought sent a rush of excitement through his veins, overriding any fear or doubt. He had three years, and he would use every moment of it to forge himself into someone undeniable. "Then I need to start training immediately. I want to train in the forest."
Samuel hesitated. "Theos, the forest isn't completely safe. There are Level 1 - Stage 1 and Stage 2 and sometimes stage 3 beasts, if you go deeper, roaming around. Even though they are equivalent to early Bone Forging experts, it's still dangerous."
Every level had nine stages, similar to human cultivation progress. Level 1 Beasts are comparable to Bone forging experts. Theos, however, was unfazed. "I am strong, Papa. I can handle it."
His mother, Elena, joined them, concern written all over her face. "Are you sure about this, Theos? Training in the forest alone is risky."
"I'll be careful," Theos reassured her. "I need to do this."
After some reluctance, his parents finally agreed. "Very well," Samuel sighed. "But promise us you will not take unnecessary risks."
"I promise."
That night, after a hearty dinner filled with casual conversation, Theos lay in bed. His mind, however, was restless. He sat up, his curiosity still burning. Bringing up his status screen, his eyes widened as a new message appeared before him.
Quest Available:
You have taken your first step on the path of cultivation by awakening your dantian. But you need a cultivation manual to proceed further.
Objective: Kill a Level 1 Stage 3 beast without anyone's help and prove you are worthy of going against the world, worthy of becoming strong.
Reward: Origin Chaos Cultivation Tome
Penalty: Removal of the talent Energy Manipulation
Theos went silent, his breath catching in his throat.
"Quest??? what is that?" Theos started recalling if he has ever heard of that.
"I have never heard that before. But it seems if I kill the beast I will get the cultivation tome as a reward."
This was no ordinary opportunity.
"I couldn't cultivate before because the cultivation manual in the village is too basic. It would damage my foundation. I planned to wait until I joined a sect... but now... now I can start immediately!"
His fists clenched in excitement. "I don't believe this cultivation tome is weak at all."
His heart pounded with anticipation. He couldn't wait. Lying in bed was impossible when such an opportunity awaited him. Without hesitation, he crept out of his room, his bare feet moving silently across the wooden floor. He reached the kitchen, his eyes scanning the dimly lit space until they landed on the sturdy iron knife resting atop the cutting board. It wasn't a weapon meant for battle, but it would have to do. Swallowing his excitement, he carefully lifted the knife, its cool handle pressing against his palm, and slipped out of the house into the night.
The cool night air brushed against his skin as he stepped outside. The forest loomed ahead, dark and filled with mystery. Shadows stretched long beneath the moon's glow, the towering trees whispering in the breeze. Theos took a deep breath, steadying his nerves. "I need to do this," he muttered before stepping into the unknown.
Theos stepped deeper into the forest, his senses heightened as the cool night air surrounded him. The distant cries of nocturnal creatures echoed through the trees, and the underbrush rustled with unseen movements. He clenched his knife tighter, his eyes scanning the dense foliage. His heart pounded in his chest, a mixture of excitement and caution flooding his veins.
A Level 1 - Stage 1 beast, a boar-like creature with small tusks, suddenly burst through the thick undergrowth, snorting aggressively. Its small, beady eyes locked onto Theos as it lowered its head and charged forward. Theos instinctively sidestepped, his agility carrying him just out of harm's way. He pivoted, bringing his knife up in a precise motion, and drove it into the beast's neck. The boar let out a gurgling cry before collapsing onto the damp forest floor.
Barely having time to recover, Theos heard a low growl from above. A panther-like beast, its sleek, black fur blending seamlessly into the darkness, leaped from a tree branch, its claws swiping toward him. Theos reacted instantly, his body moving before his mind could fully register the danger. He ducked low, rolling out of the way just in time. As the beast landed, he lunged forward, stabbing upward into its throat in one fluid motion. The panther let out a strangled cry before slumping onto its side.
Theos exhaled slowly, his breath coming in measured gasps. These fights had been easier than expected—his basic dagger mastery gave him an edge, and his agility allowed him to move swiftly and decisively. The beasts were not much stronger than him, and he had been able to take advantage of that fact. However, he knew these were just warm-ups. Stronger creatures lurked within the forest, and soon, he would have to face something that would truly test him.
For four hours, Theos prowled through the dense forest, encountering and slaying multiple beasts. With each fight, his movements became sharper, his reactions swifter.
He faced boar-like creatures, panther-like beasts, and even a pair of reptilian lizards, all ranging from Level 1 - Stage 1 to Stage 2. Though some fights required effort, none truly tested him. His strength was slightly superior to theirs, and combined with his agility, he always managed to take them down without sustaining major injuries.
Yet, the constant battles wore on his stamina. His breathing grew heavier, his body slick with sweat and blood—some his own, most belonging to the fallen beasts. He was pushing himself harder than ever before.
But then a low, guttural growl echoed through the trees. Theos stiffened, his grip on the knife tightening as a massive, black-furred wolf emerged from the darkness. Its red eyes gleamed with hunger, its powerful muscles rippling beneath its fur. This was no ordinary beast—it was a Level 1 - Stage 3 creature, a predator that could rip apart seasoned hunters. Theos exhaled sharply, his pulse quickening.
The wolf lunged without warning, a blur of shadow and fangs. A cold shiver ran down Theos' spine—this was unlike any battle he had fought before. Fear gripped him, his body instinctively freezing for a split second. What if I die here? The thought sent a surge of panic through his mind, but he forced himself to move. Survival depended on action, not hesitation. Theos barely had time to react. He twisted his body, dodging by a hair's breadth as the beast's fangs snapped where his neck had been a second ago. His feet skidded across the dirt, his instincts screaming. Theos countered, slashing his knife toward the wolf's exposed side, but the beast was fast. Too fast. It shifted its weight, dodging easily before whipping its tail around, slamming Theos hard against a tree.
Pain shot through his back. He coughed, the impact rattling his bones. The wolf prowled forward, its lips curled into a snarl. Theos gritted his teeth. He had to think—he couldn't overpower it head-on.
The wolf pounced again, its claws gleaming under the moonlight. Theos rolled to the side, barely avoiding the attack. The moment he hit the ground, he sprang up, lunging toward the beast with his knife aimed for its throat. The wolf reacted instantly, twisting its body mid-air to slash at him with its claws. Theos jerked back, but not fast enough—sharp pain tore through his shoulder as claws raked through his flesh, warm blood soaking his clothes. A choked gasp escaped him. It hurts... The realization struck him harder than the beast's claws. This wasn't some sparring match, this was a battle of life and death. If he faltered, if he made one wrong move, the wolf would rip him apart without hesitation. He stumbled, biting back a cry.
Breathing heavily, he repositioned himself, dagger raised. His vision blurred for a moment, and he knew he was losing too much blood. Clenching his teeth, he forced his body to stay upright. Then, he made a decision—it was time to use his Supreme Eyes.
Theos activated his ability, and the world around him shifted. His breath steadied as clarity washed over him. The shadows of the forest faded, replaced by brilliant currents of energy swirling through the air. Every motion, every heartbeat, every shift in muscle tension became visible, laid bare before his Supreme Eyes.
The wolf was no longer just a mass of fur and fangs—it was an intricate network of pulsing energy, revealing patterns in its movement and subtle weaknesses. Theos' confidence surged. He could see how the beast's energy condensed just before it attacked, the micro-adjustments in its muscles that signaled its next move. He even saw flickers of instability—small weaknesses around its joints and ribs, places where its defenses were not as strong.
This wasn't just instinct anymore. This was calculated advantage.
He adjusted his grip on the dagger, his mind processing information faster than ever before. He knew he couldn't overpower the beast with brute force alone, but he didn't have to. He could dismantle it, strike where it hurt the most, and outlast it.
The wolf circled him, its predatory gaze locked onto him like a hunter toying with its prey. Theos' vision blurred for a second—his body was battered, blood trickling from his wounds. But now, with his Supreme Eyes guiding him, he saw the path to victory.
The wolf lunged again, and this time, Theos saw it before it even moved. With Supreme Eyes active, the flow of its energy telegraphed its intentions. Instead of dodging completely, he pivoted just enough for the beast to graze past him. In that instant, he slashed his dagger at the weakest point he saw—just beneath its ribcage, where its energy was the thinnest. The knife sank in, deeper than before, and the wolf let out a feral roar, thrashing wildly. Instead of dodging completely, he pivoted just enough for the beast to graze past him, then drove his knife into its ribcage with all his remaining strength. The blade dug deep, but the wolf roared in rage, thrashing violently. Theos held on, trying to push deeper, but the beast slammed into him, sending him rolling across the ground.
Dirt filled his mouth as he gasped for breath. Theos struggled to stand, his body screaming in protest. The wolf staggered too, blood dripping from its side. One last chance.
Theos steadied his shaking legs and met the wolf's eyes. His vision swam from blood loss, but he gritted his teeth. No... I refuse to die here. His breath was ragged, his limbs heavy, but deep inside, something stronger than fear took hold—a refusal to be weak. If he couldn't overcome this, he had no right to dream of greater strength. His Supreme Eyes were still active, though he was struggling to keep them that way. Every fiber of his being burned, but the battle wasn't over. Theos adjusted his grip on the dagger, narrowing his gaze. The wolf was already shifting its stance for one final charge. This was it—one of them wouldn't leave alive.
With a final, desperate roar, the beast charged. But Theos was already moving. The moment the wolf's muscles tensed, he read its trajectory. Instead of dodging outright, he used his Supreme Eyes to anticipate exactly when the beast would be at its most vulnerable. As it lunged through the air, its energy condensed toward its fangs, leaving its throat momentarily unguarded.
At the last second, Theos ducked low and twisted, his dagger slicing through the air in perfect alignment with the weak point he had spotted. The blade found its mark, plunging straight into the wolf's throat with deadly precision. The beast gurgled, its momentum carrying it forward before it collapsed in a heap.
Theos knelt beside it, panting, his limbs trembling uncontrollably. Blood pooled around him—both his and the wolf's. His vision blurred as exhaustion crashed over him.
Barely alive. But victorious.
As the adrenaline faded, exhaustion took its place, and for a moment, Theos could barely keep himself upright. His fingers trembled as he wiped his bloodied dagger against the grass. He had stared death in the face, felt its breath upon his neck. And yet... he was still standing. Was this what it truly meant to fight for survival? The knowledge that every mistake could be fatal?
He swallowed hard, forcing himself to his feet. Next time, I need to be stronger. He couldn't afford to fight like this again. Not if he wanted to face what lay ahead.
As he knelt beside the fallen beast, his breath came in ragged gasps. His body ached, his muscles screaming in protest, but despite the pain, he couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of accomplishment. This battle had pushed him to the brink, tested his instincts, his strategy, and his resolve.
For the first time, he truly understood what it meant to fight for survival, to face death and claw his way back from the edge. He had barely managed to win, but he had won nonetheless.
His Supreme Eyes flickered as he looked down at the lifeless wolf. Even in death, its energy faded slowly, dissipating into the cold night air. He had used everything he had—his talent, his agility, his dagger mastery—but most importantly, he had used his will to survive.
With a shaky hand, he wiped the sweat and blood from his brow, exhaling deeply. This was just the beginning. If a mere Level 1 - Stage 3 beast had nearly ended him, then he had a long way to go before he could truly stand against the world.
But tonight, he had taken the first step.