Author's Note:-
From now on, the realms will be divided into Early, Mid, Late, and Peak stages, instead of levels, to make the progression easier to follow.
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Death closed in from all sides.
A spear from the left.
An axe from the right.
An arrow drawn taut behind him—lined up perfectly with his heart.
Stephen tightened his grip on the sword.
If he hesitated, he would die.
He inhaled deeply, steadying the tremor in his soul sea. Then he drew on the First Form of the Twelve Supreme Swords.
Azure light flickered to life across the blade—faint at first, like embers. Then it flared.
Transcendent energy surged downward from his Soul Sea, rattling the bones in his arms. The faint glow became a radiant sheath of blue flame, dense enough that the air around the sword warped.
The spear wielder froze a moment, expression twisting.
"You're insane. An Early-stage Apprentice? Against three Early-stage Masters?"
He sneered, but there was doubt in his voice now.
"The gap is a chasm. You can't possibly—"
Stephen's mind sharpened into stillness.
He ignored the words.
He ignored the pain.
Everything narrowed to the sword.
The blue glow suddenly condensed—no longer gentle, but razor-sharp, like moonlight compressed into steel. Even the leaves overhead trembled as spiritual force rippled outward.
The woman's eyes widened in genuine fear.
"MOVE! GET AWAY FROM THERE!"
She loosed the arrow.
In the same instant, Stephen swung.
The world exploded.
A thunderous BOOM tore through the forest, shaking earth and sky alike. Blue light surged across the clearing, blinding and violent—like a comet slamming into the ground.
The two men staggered backward, boots scraping dirt. Trees snapped. Stone cracked. Dust billowed upward in a choking cloud.
For several seconds, nothing existed but ringing ears and shaking ground.
When the dust began to settle, the woman lowered her arm—
—and her breath caught.
The place where Stephen had stood was gone.
In its place was a gaping fissure—three meters wide and at least twenty meters deep, carved straight through the ground, as if the earth itself had been sliced open.
The men stared, speechless.
He was only an Early-stage Apprentice.
That attack was something even many experts in the Master Realm could not unleash without preparation.
The woman's face twisted.
He had slipped their net.
She looked quickly to where the Night Fox had fallen—
and found only a smear of blood.
Nobody.
"You brat…"
Her teeth ground hard enough to crack enamel.
"YOU MIGHT HAVE ESCAPED THIS TIME—BUT I'LL RIP YOU TO SHREDS NEXT WE MEET!"
She spun to the two remaining men.
"What are you waiting for?! He couldn't have gone far. That strike drained him—FIND HIM. Kill him if necessary, but bring the beast back. If the Young Miss doesn't get her prey, we're dead anyway!"
The men bowed and shot into the trees, disappearing like shadows.
Only the woman remained, knuckles whitening around her weapon.
She whispered into the wind:
"Boy… you'll soon learn there are people you cannot afford to offend."
Then she vanished.
The night returned to silence—until the beasts came.
The stench of spilled blood drew them like flies to rot. Snarls. Bones cracking. Flesh ripping. In moments, even the bisected corpse of their fallen comrade was gone.
Stephen stopped running only long enough to breathe.
His chest heaved. The First Form had cost him dearly—too much. His bones were laced with hairline fractures.
Muscles screamed.
Meridians burned.
The Night Fox lay in his arms, trembling faintly. He'd pushed the poison from its blood with the Blue Sprout, but the process inflicted terrible pain on the creature—its whimpers haunted him still.
He had no time to heal time to rest time to think.
CRACK—!
A spear tore past his shoulder like a meteor, obliterating a line of trees thick as a man's waist. Wooden shrapnel exploded outward in a storm.
A voice howled behind him:
"I FOUND YOU, BRAT!!!"
Stephen didn't even look back.
He activated his movement art and sprinted deeper into the forest, weaving through trees with desperate speed.
The sun had already risen, its rays bleeding through the dense canopy. This trip—meant to be a simple walk—had become a nightmare. He'd strayed so far from the path that he no longer knew which direction the valley was.
He had until midnight to reach White Moon Valley.
If he missed the exam—even by a minute—it was over.
But for hours now, there had been no peace.
No breath.
Every pause brought arrows, spears, axes, and beasts. He had fought when he could, dodged when he couldn't, and bled every step of the way.
Once, an armored wolf nearly bit him in half. Another time, one of the Masters' spears nearly skewered his spine.
His soul sea was almost drained. His body was a map of cuts and bruises. Blood soaked his clothes and boots.
He could barely feel his legs.
Then—
A roar shattered the silence.
Deep.
Primordial.
The kind that vibrated through bone and soul.
A powerful beast's territory.
Stephen's heart lurched.
Not good.
He turned to retreat—
—but the two male pursuers dropped from the trees, weapons drawn and wild-eyed.
The woman landed behind him, arrow already nocked.
A perfect trap.
No paths left.
No time.
No options.
No help.
If he fought them in the open, he would die.
If he ran, the arrow would pierce his spine.
If he hesitated, death.
He looked instead toward the source of the roar.
The beast's domain.
His mind made the decision his body feared.
He clenched the trembling Night Fox tighter, jaw set—
—and stepped forward.
Not away.
Into the beast's territory.