Far, far away, beyond the reach of Jurra's Dominion…
Thunder rumbled across the cliff-side mountain range.
Somewhere near the eastern ridges of the Beast Forest, nestled into a narrow crack between jagged rocks, was a cave.
Inside, the air was heavy with the scent of blood, herbs, and damp stone.
A young man lay on a bed of leaves and rough cloth, his chest heaving slowly. His body was wrapped in dirty white bandages, his skin marred by fresh scars and jagged cuts.
Bruises painted his ribs like storm clouds.
His breath came in shallow gasps.
Beside him, a long, cracked sword leaned against the cave wall. It looked ancient and something dormant was inside.
Until it glowed.
Mist flowed from the blade, rising like smoke—until it took shape.
A small girl appeared.
No older than ten in appearance, her body made of swirling mist and light. Her arms crossed. Her chin tilted with pride. Her eyebrows arched with disdain. She hovered above the ground, inspecting the broken boy with regal annoyance.
"Hmph! So you survived. How unsightly," she sniffed.
Her voice was high, but sharp. Arrogant. Haughty. Like a princess scolding a servant who dared bleed in her presence.
"Surviving an ambush by the Autumn Blade Sect, crawling away from the Red Scrawny Dragon like a worm… Ugh. How utterly embarrassing."
The boy stirred, his lips parting.
"I lived, didn't I?"
His voice was quiet. Tired. But steady.
"And that dragon… I saw its eyes. It wasn't part of the forest by accident. It was guarding something. Protecting something. And the Autumn Blade Sect—" he coughed, spitting blood into a nearby cloth—"they didn't fight it. They just ran."
The little girl's eyes narrowed.
"What are you saying, Lin Hei?"
He turned his head slightly, staring into the mist.
"That the Autumn Blade Sect has betrayed the righteous path. They've colluded with the demonic path cultivators. They're planning to wipe out the seven righteous sects. They want control of both sides—the humans and the immortals."
She froze.
Then slowly, she floated closer.
"You're saying… they plan to change the balance of power?"
He nodded weakly.
"I'll tell the world. Once I recover."
The little girl's face twisted with disdain.
"Typical of lower realm traitors. Tampering with beasts like that pathetic serpent dragon."
Her expression darkened.
"That dragon… I remember it. That slithering snake who dared ignore me. That runt who thought flying around with such little wings made him noble. He didn't even have the decency to kneel when he sensed me!"
She floated into the air, eyes glowing with fury.
"Lin Hei! Once you get stronger, we're going back. You'll find that dragon's remains—or what's left of them—and you will use his blood to cultivate the Seven Gates of Raging Fire! That snake's blood shall serve your ascension!"
Lin Hei managed a weak smile.
"If I can survive you, I can survive anything."
But then, her eyes suddenly widened.
She stopped.
The mist around her pulsed, then froze.
"No…" she whispered. "No, this can't be…"
Lin Hei struggled to sit up.
"What's wrong?"
The girl's voice trembled.
"The dragon… the one we fled from…"
She stared through the cave wall, into a distance only she could see.
"…It died."
Lin Hei's eyes widened, his breath catching in his throat.
"That dragon… it was about to enter the Core Spirit Realm…" he murmured, voice laced with disbelief.
He leaned forward despite the pain racking his broken body.
That serpentine beast they'd barely escaped from, that monster who could summon crimson lightning with a flick of its tail, whose gaze alone made his spirit core tremble…
That beast had been a step away from transcending mortality.
From Body Realm Cultivation to Beast Vein Realm. And from there… to the Beast Foundation Realm.
Three monstrous thresholds.
It wasn't just raw power—it was a culmination of bloodline, Qi tempering, divine comprehension, and beastial instinct. And from the Foundation Realm, it would enter Core Spirit.
That's when beasts stopped being creatures and started being legends.
To kill a beast on the verge of that transformation…
How can they not be scared?
Lin Hei trembled, unable to suppress the fear welling in his chest.
"Who… could've done that?"
The little mist girl hovered nearby, her form dimmer than before, shaped like a ten-year-old noble child with an attitude far older than her features implied.
She didn't scoff this time and didn't mock him.
Her arms folded tightly across her translucent chest.
"It was about to enter Core Spirit Realm," she confirmed, her voice now flat, cold, and serious.
"And yet it was slain. Not just killed—easily."
Lin Hei's jaw clenched.
"Easily…?"
She nodded, her glowing mist eyes sharp.
"No sign of a drawn-out battle. No Qi eruption. No spatial collapse. The beast's blood is scattered across the ley-lines like it was ruptured from the inside that the mark I put in that beast was easily severed. Whatever did it… didn't need a second try."
She hovered lower, silent for a moment.
"We'll have to abandon the idea of bathing in its blood."
Lin Hei didn't speak. His thoughts raced.
If something—or someone—had done that, then either they were a secret powerhouse from the ancient sects… or worse, something new. Unknown.
A player?
He clenched his fists tighter.
"What could've done that so easily?"
The girl tilted her head.
"I don't know." Then she smirked, her usual arrogance creeping back in. "But we could peek, if your Lifebound Beast has fully awakened. Perhaps it can handle a glimpse."
He frowned. "Are you sure? Isn't that dangerous? You said its spirit still hasn't stabilized."
She waved a hand. "It's only dangerous if you interfere. I'll instruct it. All you need to do is lie there and try not to die again."
He gave her a sideways glare.
She grinned.
---
Meanwhile…
Jurra crouched low behind the thick roots of a twisted tree, the underbrush rustling as his raptors prowled nearby.
Shadows stretched long over the damp soil as twilight descended across the hidden canyon surrounding the Jurassic Overlord Dominion.
He'd been scouring the perimeter for hours now. Every patch of terrain is memorized. Every scent catalogued. Every sound noted.
And still… nothing out of place. No invaders. No wandering players. No visible threats.
Just strange animals.
Birds with three eyes. Insects that pulsed with a dim green glow. Boars that exhaled mist when they grunted. All of them exuded something off for his nose.
Jurra narrowed his eyes as another squirrel-like creature darted across the trees, with trails that leaves faint blue particles.
"Again…" he muttered.
Those shimmering dust trails.
Mana? he thought. Or… no. It's too erratic. Too raw.
They weren't exactly like the manas he remembered from War of Warlocks. It wasn't refined. It was like standing near a wild energy source—one that didn't know it was dangerous.
But the resemblance was there.
Particles in the air.
Energy-laced wildlife.
Ambient fluctuations.
"Is this… natural energy? What's it called?" he asked himself. He still has no idea after noticing it a lot of times.
It didn't matter right now.
His priority was summoning the rest of his army.
Raptors, stegosaur guardians, the airborne scouts—all of them were waiting in the stasis zone.
He needed a magic crystal. Just one.
A conduit, a focus point, a spark to activate the full summoning array embedded into his dominion's central platform.
Until then, he only had his ten Warlock Sentinels.
Ten.
And every single one of them was watching the forest with the patience of ancient predators.
Suddenly, Jurra stopped. His heart skipped.
There was a shiver in his body.
He ducked lower, practically vanishing into the brush. One hand reached out, steadying against a tree root. His raptors reacted instantly, lowering their bodies, tails rigid.
Jurra exhaled slowly.
Not mana. Not the strange energy. But presence.
Someone was near.
Something moved through the trees—slow, controlled, and quiet.
He motioned with two fingers.
From his flank, the ten Warlock Sentinels awaited his signal. Their reptilian eyes glowed softly under their bone-plated helms. He tapped the largest one—Blue—on the snout.
"Stay," he whispered. "Roam in the open. Act like a clueless bait. Don't follow me."
Blue growled softly, but obeyed.
Jurra turned to the others and made a sharp hand gesture.
The remaining nine vanished into the foliage like ghosts.
Then he moved—fast, ducking under ferns, weaving between trees, avoiding dried leaves and exposed twigs like a born predator.
He climbed a low ridge, hunched into the undergrowth, his breath steady.
And then—
He saw a movement.
There.
At the base of a twisted, barkless tree just a hundred feet ahead.
A movement not belonging to any beast.
Jurra's eyes narrowed, and he leaned to the raptor beside him—one of his silent scouts with feathers as dark as midnight, its jaw filled with curved, whisper-quiet fangs.
"Target. Prepare to flank. Swoosh."
And in that instant—
The raptor vanished into the air with a whisper like parting wind.