The Lunar Shadow Tiger leapt sideways at the final instant. The ground exploded where it had stood a fraction of a breath earlier, and the massive beast straightened immediately, muscles taut, gaze locked onto the young human before it.
A shock rippled through its mind—not because of the attack itself, but because of the aura.
An immense pressure, chaotic yet undeniably real, poured from Wang Lin's body. The Tiger narrowed its eyes as a violet lunar glow ignited within its pupils, its instinctive analytical ability activating as it sought to dissect what it sensed. Yet it perceived nothing structured: no clear laws, no stable patterns, no fully formed construct. There was only Breath—raw, profound, multiple, and devoid of fixed form.
Its claws dug slightly into the rock.
Impossible.
This boy was human, only at the fifth level of the Mortal Realm. And yet several distinct specialized Breaths emanated from him: Water, Ice… and something else, far more unsettling. A latent void—present, restrained, clearly sealed, yet undeniably awakened.
The Tiger's ancient heart tightened. Even among cultivators of the Spirit Plane, possessing a single specialization was enough to be called a genius. Two marked celestial monsters. Three…
If such a being reached full maturity, he could bend the Four Planes—perhaps even more.
A primal instinct screamed within the Tiger.
He must not be allowed to grow.
Without hesitation, the Lunar Shadow Tiger activated its power. Shadows thickened around its body, condensing along its limbs like living armor. Slowly, it raised a massive paw as claws of absolute black emerged, warping the moonlight around them. The nocturnal Breath contracted.
Technique — Darkness Cutting.
With a sharp motion, the paw descended. Shadow transformed into a blade, cleaving the air with lethal precision straight toward Wang Lin.
Wang Lin reacted the instant the attack took shape. Under the effect of the barely awakened Eyes of Eternal Void, the Tiger's movement no longer existed solely in the present. The trajectory of the blade appeared to him as a dissonance in the flow of Breath—not a vision of the future, but the reading of an intention already etched into the Weave, clear enough to grant him a fleeting advantage.
He did not attempt to block it head-on.
A dense block of ice materialized before him. The shadow blade struck with a shrill screech, carving into the crystalline surface before shattering it into a storm of frozen shards. The impact was not nullified, but its path was diverted just enough to spare him. Behind him, the ground split open for several meters.
Wang Lin allowed himself no pause. Exploiting that infinitesimal opening, he circulated his Breath with a precision he had never achieved before. Two blades formed in his hands: one of compressed water, fluid and vibrating, the other of pure ice, rigid and razor-sharp. Their opposing natures were held in unstable equilibrium by his focus alone.
The Lunar Shadow Tiger sprang backward instinctively. What unsettled it was not the reaction itself, but how it had occurred. This boy had not merely evaded—he had anticipated.
A primordial shiver ran down the Tiger's spine. Not fear, not yet, but instinctive recognition. The human before it did not perceive combat as a simple exchange of techniques; he read its structure, at a level that matched neither his age nor his realm.
If he survived and continued to grow, this cursed forest might one day become something other than an eternal prison.
A dangerous thought surfaced in the Tiger's mind: if it could form a pact with him, it might finally escape this place.
The shadows around its body rippled faintly, betraying a hesitation it had not known for centuries. For the first time in untold ages, the Lunar Shadow Tiger did not launch another attack.
Wang Lin, meanwhile, was no longer the same.
He was no longer the boy who needed constant protection, the one the world crushed before he could even understand why. That time had passed. What now stood in the clearing was a cultivator—someone who had chosen never to bend again. A cold determination anchored itself deep within him.
" I am no longer the same. "
The words echoed through his consciousness like an unbreakable vow.
" If the heavens of this world force me to change… then I will reforge them. My way. I will never retreat again. "
His Breath tightened with newfound cohesion, and the two blades—water and ice—hummed softly, responding to a resolve that had become clear and stable. He was about to strike when the shadows suddenly contracted.
The Lunar Shadow Tiger leapt and crashed down at Wang Lin's feet with crushing force, fissuring the ground in a thunderous impact. This time, the pressure was no longer an instinctive assault, but a decision.
The battle had changed in nature.
"What… what are you doing?! Let go of me!"
Wang Lin was pinned to the ground by overwhelming pressure, the Tiger's claws embedded on either side of his body—careful not to wound him, yet close enough to make the threat undeniable.
" A moment ago, it wanted to kill me… what is it doing now? "
"Let go of me, or I—"
He cut off abruptly.
The Tiger had spoken.
"Enough."
Its deep voice resonated with ancient weight, vibrating through the Weave itself.
"I have no intention of killing you."
Wang Lin blinked, unsettled.
"…Excuses?"
"The territory of the Lunar Shadow Tigers does not accept outsiders," the creature said in a calmer tone. "Your Breath is peculiar—unstable, multiple, yet strangely harmonized. It disrupted the local Weave."
"And for that, you tried to kill me?"
"No. I acted on instinct. I do not hate you. I merely feared what I did not understand."
Wang Lin exhaled softly.
"…I didn't realize."
The Tiger finally withdrew and stepped back, releasing him.
"So… it's fine now?"
A nearly imperceptible, unsettling smile touched Wang Lin's lips.
"Hm. Hm."
"Yes. It is."
After a long silence, the Tiger spoke again, its voice lower.
"I have seen your potential. One day, you will become a great cultivator. If we form a pact, I could evolve… perhaps even become a divine beast."
"No."
The refusal was immediate.
"…No?"
"I don't need a pact with a beast like you. I already have someone who fills that role. At most, you could become my mount."
The Tiger fell silent. It had little time left. Without a pact, it would wither. With this human, it could prolong its existence—perhaps even be reborn.
Its decision was instant.
"I accept."
Wang Lin raised an eyebrow slightly.
"Really?"
"Yes. Tell me how. Not now. If you wish, I can follow you."
After a brief pause, Wang Lin nodded.
"Very well. The pact can wait."
He inhaled deeply.
"Goddess Yuè Míng Zhēn Míng, I am fine. Even if you weren't much help… thank you for the warning."
An irritated laugh echoed within his Spiritual Sea.
Wang Lin then retrieved his blindfold and carefully tied it back around his eyes, concealing once more the gaze that had shaken the Weave.
"Let's go. Before the sun rises."
Behind him, the Lunar Shadow moved silently, aware that from this moment on, its fate had torn itself away from the forest—to entwine with that of a being far more dangerous than any curse.