By the time Stephen stumbled back through the rift gate, his entire body ached. His clothes were torn, and dried blood streaked his side where the panther's claws had grazed him. The Federation medics at the outpost moved quickly, scanning him for internal injuries and applying a faintly glowing salve across the wound.
"You're lucky," one of them said, shaking his head. "A few more seconds and you'd be nothing but meat for the scavengers. You new hunters really don't know when to quit."
Stephen managed a weak smile. "Guess I got carried away."
After a short rest and some patchwork treatment, he was released with a warning to avoid combat for at least a day. He didn't argue. His mind wasn't on the pain — it was on the crimson crystal core tucked securely in his bag.
He could still feel it — that pulsing, living rhythm of energy that called out to him.
That night, after returning to his small room at the inn, he sat cross-legged on the floor. The lights were dim, the hum of Ironveil's nightlife distant and muted. He took the crystal out, its glow painting his face in shades of red and gold.
So this is the power of a Level 10 beast…
He placed it gently against his chest and began to guide his breath, following the cultivation method his father had taught him. Slowly, the crystal began to dissolve, releasing a flood of transcendent energy.
The power surged through him like liquid fire. His veins felt as though they might burst; his heart pounded wildly as energy roared toward his soul sea.
Inside, the faint image of the blue sprout trembled, its leaves glowing brilliantly as it absorbed the flood of energy. The fog surrounding it thinned, replaced by the faint shimmer of condensed mist.
Then came the pain.His soul sea pulsed violently — like something inside was stretching, expanding beyond its limit. His vision blurred, and a piercing headache tore through his skull.
"Ah—!"
He bit back a cry and forced his focus to remain steady. His father's voice echoed faintly in his memory — Control it. Don't let the energy control you.
Minutes stretched into hours. Sweat soaked his shirt as his breathing slowed. Gradually, the violent ripples within his soul sea calmed, the mist thickening into faint liquid strands. The once-fragile blue sprout now looked sturdier, its color deeper, its roots faintly glowing beneath the surface of his inner world.
When he finally opened his eyes, dawn was creeping in through the window. His entire body trembled from exhaustion. A faint dizziness clouded his thoughts, and a dull ache lingered behind his eyes — but he was alive.
And stronger.
He lifted his bracelet weakly.[Level: 8 → 9]
A quiet smile curved his lips.
It wasn't a huge leap, but it was proof that he was getting closer — step by step — to the threshold that separated the ordinary from the extraordinary.
Still, a lingering unease gnawed at the back of his mind. Something about that crystal refinement had felt… different. The power had been wild, almost instinctive, as if his body hadn't absorbed it alone.
For a brief moment, before he lost consciousness the night before, he thought he'd seen something — a faint glimmer of blue light wrapping around him.
He shook his head, dismissing the thought. "Must've been my imagination…"
Outside, the city was waking up. The air hummed faintly with life and ambition. Stephen rose slowly, stretching his sore limbs. The ache in his muscles reminded him of his father's words — that growth always came with pain.
He took a long breath, looked out the window toward the direction of the rift, and murmured,"One more level… then I can stand on that stage."
His reflection in the glass showed a boy tired but determined, eyes burning with quiet resolve.
Tomorrow, he would return to the rift again.Tomorrow, he would carve his name into the path of hunters — one battle, one scar, and one heartbeat at a time.