The cloth was a greyish hanfu (traditional Chinese clothing). It looked decent, but nothing special. Feeling energized, Dion walked back into the forest, searching for any sign of civilization. He ran cautiously, careful not to make any unnecessary sounds. But as he moved, he suddenly felt a strange sensation pressing against his back—not physical, but mental, like an invisible weight. Instinctively, Dion sidestepped, surprised by his own reaction. A powerful gust of wind rushed past him, and when he turned, the claw of a giant wolf tore through the air!
Judging by its size and the aura it radiated, it was a Grade 8 wolf. How was he supposed to deal with that?
After all, he was only at the beginning level—just Rank 9.
Dion racked his brain.
How had he ended up in such a situation?
There was no way he could outrun it.
And there was no way he could kill it.
So how…?
A thought suddenly flashed through his mind.
Without hesitation, Dion veered sharply to the left. The wolf followed immediately, its heavy steps shaking the ground behind him. He reached up, grabbed a low branch, and with a quick pull, snapped it free. Bark scraped his palm, but he didn't stop running.
The wolf was gaining on him—its breath loud, its growl echoing through the trees. Dion's heart pounded in rhythm with his steps. Every second he stayed alive was borrowed time.
He slowed down gradually, then stopped altogether.
The sudden stillness caught the beast off guard.
The wolf lunged forward, eyes glowing with savage hunger, certain of an easy kill. But at the last possible moment, Dion moved—one quick sidestep, just like before.
The wolf's momentum carried it straight into a massive tree. The impact was brutal. A deep, wet crack followed as the creature's head smashed against the trunk.
It whimpered, dazed and bleeding.
Before it could recover, Dion stepped forward and thrust the broken branch into its eye. The force of the strike drove it deep into the skull. The wolf didn't even have the chance to howl—it simply went still, collapsing to the forest floor.
Dion fell beside it, gasping for air. His entire body trembled from exhaustion and adrenaline. For a long while, he just lay there, staring at the fallen beast.
Then something caught his eye—a faint shimmer coming from the wolf's stomach. He frowned, leaning closer. The glow wasn't on the surface; it was coming from within.
Grabbing a nearby rock, he struck the beast's belly. Once. Twice. Until the hide gave way.
Something rolled out—a small, red, spherical object, glowing softly.
Dion froze. His breath hitched.
Could it be… a core?
Only Grade 8 and above masters or beasts could produce such a thing.
He stared at it in silence, the faint red light reflecting in his eyes. Then, slowly, he reached down, picked it up, and held it close to his chest before rising to his feet once more.
Dion walked away from the dead wolf, his steps unsteady but determined. Ahead, a cluster of bushes caught his eye.
There weren't any bushes in the other parts of the forest, he thought, frowning slightly.
Curious, he moved closer, pushing gently through the thick leaves. The branches brushed against his arms as he parted them, and soon he stepped out onto an open plain.
It stretched wide before him—sparse, dotted with only a few bushes and small, scattered trees. The sky above was clearer here, and in the far distance, something caught his attention.
A town.
It wasn't large, but it was real—and there were people.
For a moment, Dion just stood there, taking it in. Then he glanced down at himself. His grey hanfu was mostly clean; no blood, just a layer of dirt and dust from the forest.
He tightened his grip around the red core, holding it close to his chest. Then, without another thought, he broke into a run—toward the town, toward whatever waited for him next.