The dawn wind swept quietly over the riverbanks, heavy with mist and a metallic tang that hinted at danger yet unseen. The chariot had not moved for a while, its horses stamping nervously, snorting into the cold air. A faint vibration hummed through the ground–like a breath held beneath the earth.
Inside the chariot, Diala stirred. She had been training deep within her consciousness all night, sharpening her twin martial souls to perfection. The intensity had left her drained, her body heavy, and her spirit weary. When the world outside suddenly fell still, she opened her eyes, feeling a strange disturbance in the flow of wind.
"What's happening?" she whispered, stepping out with sluggish steps.
Her tired gaze met a sight that made her heart skip.
The mercenaries of the East Valley Wing stood frozen–eyes unfocused, postures stiff, weapons half-raised but motionless. They looked alive, yet their spirits were clouded. Only Kiaria stood apart, unmoving yet fully aware, his expression sharp.
"Dia, back into the chariot," Kiaria's voice cut through the silence, calm but commanding. "Without my permission, don't come out. We're ambushed."
The tone left no room for argument.
Diala paused only a moment, then obeyed, climbing back inside while keeping her gaze fixed on him through the slit in the tent flap.
Her dual martial souls–one from heavenly lineage and other from abyssal–made her immune to illusions. The smog rolling across the field shimmered faintly with illusory patterns. What froze the others was no toxin or sleep spell; it was illusion made alive, a phantom mist that mirrored the heart's fears.
The illusory nightmares are not offensive technique but, once a person dies in the nightmare, die in real world too.
Mercenaries body trembling, the worst memories and narrow escaped situations in their lives came to their mind.
But…
Kiaria stood within it, feeling his consciousness tremble faintly.
This smog… it's not natural.
Within his robes, the Zhar Do Globe pulsed faintly with blue light, sensing the anomaly. It reacted before he could command it–waves of faint ripples spread outward, invisible to ordinary eyes but powerful enough to disturb the mist itself.
The world shimmered.
The illusion cracked.
The air distorted like a shattered mirror before suddenly collapsing in a soundless wave. The smog dissipated into harmless haze, scattering like dust in sunlight.
The mercenaries blinked rapidly, gasping as if surfacing from deep water. Confusion painted their faces.
"What happened?" "Was it a dream?" "Where are we?"
"Silence," Kiaria said softly but firmly. His voice cut through the clamor. "Don't move from your positions."
Staley, though disoriented, trusted him instantly. "Everyone, hold formation. Follow Kiaria's command."
Kiaria's eyes narrowed. "We're surrounded. Spiritual beasts. Not ordinary ones–they're mutated. Don't panic. I'll handle this."
Ellein frowned. "You? Alone?"
"Trust me once," Kiaria replied. His tone carried no arrogance, only quiet certainty.
Inside, however, his thoughts raced.
Beast Mastery… I only just understood its meaning. I haven't tested it. But if I fail here, we'll all die.
He took a slow breath, stepping forward. His body blurred slightly as he activated the Star-Feather Technique, his form weightless. He stepped onto a broad leaf, standing lightly atop its dew-slick surface. The plant bent under him–but did not break.
He closed his eyes.
Within his mind, the words of the Beast Mastery scroll echoed once more:
"All are equal by their own,
All lives share equal responsibility.
All are united and separated in identities.
Different paths coincide for another cycle."
He focused inward, letting the meaning sink deeper. The world hushed.
A low hum spread from him, barely audible yet vast. The energy flowing through his body reached outward, threading through the air like a living thing. Every particle of life around him–grass, stone, dew, wind–resonated faintly.
He could feel the rhythm of their existence.
Then he felt it–something subtle yet immense: the golden strand. A single thread linking all living things, faint as silk yet infinite. When he reached for it with his soul, warmth surged through his being.
What is this heartbeat…? Not just mine.
He heard them–soft thuds overlapping one another, countless hearts beating in unison. The beasts. The forest. The world itself.
His mind sank deeper, dark; depth felt more lonely and terrifying. The deeper he went, the slower the outer world became. In his consciousness, time expanded, thoughts stretching like ripples over still water.
When loneliness took control, he saw countless strands, all are white, differentiated, none of them has any intersections, yet one strand was different. A golden one, thick, similar as branched–originated from separate individuals but, intersected.
Soul moved towards it. Kiaria was not the one directing his body, the heartbeat did it.
The golden strand pulled him into a realm of its own–a world with countless strands of thin golden strands–a world within the will of life.
Curiosity made him touch one of it.
There, Kiaria saw visions: seeds buried by hands that hoped for life, beasts raising their young under sunlight, rivers nurturing the trees they cut through. Every action, even destruction, bore the intention of continuation. All life moved with purpose.
So that's it… he realized. Even beasts act by will, not malice. The strand isn't a chain–its compassion itself. The emotion, the light we all look into.
When he opened his eyes, the smog had vanished completely.
The mercenaries stood ready behind him, weapons raised but uncertain. Before them, dozens of shadows moved in the underbrush–eyes glimmering with unnatural light. Wolves, lizards, and winged beasts – all mutated, yet strangely still.
Kiaria raised his left hand slowly. The mercenaries tensed, thinking he would attack.
But he did not.
He only extended his palm, open and steady, as though inviting the beasts closer.
"Kiaria–!" Diala began, but his stillness silenced her.
A faint glow spread across his arm–a circular mark of runes forming at his wrist, expanding outward in intricate sigils. His aura thickened, not oppressive but serene.
The leading beast stepped forward–a four-armed gorilla, towering six feet tall, eyes filled with wary intelligence. It growled, deep and rumbling, but stopped when Kiaria lowered his hand to its chest level.
Their gazes met.
Heartbeat aligned.
Then, like ripples crossing a pond, golden light passed from Kiaria's palm into the gorilla's chest. Runes flared across both of them–one on his hand, one on the beast's forehead.
The tension shattered. The gorilla knelt.
The beasts behind it bowed their heads, one after another, until the entire clearing was still.
The mercenaries could only stare.
Kiaria's expression softened. "No need to fear," he murmured to the creatures. "We share the same will."
Then his attention shifted. From the shadows beyond the trees, a shape emerged, it was not walking, instead teleporting freely–a majestic beast unlike the rest.
It stepped into view–a Two-Headed Giant Deer, silver-furred, with twin sets of antlers shaped like view of the branches in autumn full moon. Energy rippled from its body, bending the air. It was powerful–pinnacle of the Supernatural Realm.
Kiaria smiled faintly. "So you're the leader."
The deer lowered its heads slightly, one pair of golden eyes, the other blue.
"A creature of Time and Space," Kiaria whispered in awe. "Truly a divine lineage matching my soul."
He stepped closer. The vines beneath him shifted, twining gently around closer to his legs as though guiding him like steps to reach near its majestic huge head. The deer did not move away–it simply watched.
"Let's form a pact," Kiaria said softly. "Not of dominance, but unity."
He extended his hand. The deer stepped forward and pressed one of its horns to his palm. A red spark ignited between them.
Their blood drops pulled out without prick on skin, intertwined–his Blood-Moon Wolf bloodline fusing with the deer's Temporal Lineage. The air shook.
The bond completed with a flash of silver light. The connection snapped into place–life and life interwoven. A Spiritual Blood Exchange Contract.
In that moment, both of them ascended. Kiaria's consciousness burned with new clarity, his soul evolving beyond mortal limits.
The deer howled–a sound between roar and cry–as its bodies shifted. Its two heads reshaped into wolf heads crowned with antlers, its body expanding, the air distorting around it.
The power settled, leaving silence behind.
Diala stepped out from the chariot, eyes wide. "Kiaria…"
The mercenaries dropped to one knee. Staley's voice was heavy with awe. "Congratulations, little brother."
"You Kid, you had hid your cultivation realm from us deliberately for all this time, didn't you?"
"Yes, I concealed Brother Ellein. If you have any complaints, talk to your leader later. Now, just keep mouth shut." Kiaria replied rudely, not to show off, but to avoid Spiritual companion from attacking him.
The beasts that once surrounded them now lowered themselves to the ground, submissive and calm.
Kiaria glanced around, suddenly embarrassed. "Please… no need for this formality."
Staley smiled faintly. "Formality? You've just saved everyone from bloodshed including theirs. Also became Beast leader as companion. You've tamed an army."
Ferlin whistled softly. "A beast army… led by a wolf-deer saint. Guess we're traveling with a legend now."
Kiaria turned toward Diala. His tone softened. "Dia, come here."
She stepped closer. "What is it?"
He pointed to one of the kneeling beasts. "Your turn. Are you willing to bond?"
Her gaze softened.
For a moment, the entire Hunter's Bay seemed to glow–the beasts, the wind, even the grass shimmering faintly just to see what change it will bring in the next beast contract.