Kaizer crossed the threshold to the dungeon on his own feet. That mattered to him. From information he had gathered throughout the base camp, dungeons usually had an initial safe room, meaning that he should be safe from any potential pursuit after the savagery he had just embarked on.
The world lurched. Stone scraped against his palms as he fell forward, momentum carrying him fully past the dungeon’s boundary before his body finally gave out. He hit hard, shoulder first, pain blooming sharp and immediate. His vision swam, darkened at the edges, then steadied enough for him to register that he was no longer in the forest.
The air was different. Not cold, just… empty. Still. He dragged in a breath that felt too thin, as though it had to travel a long distance to reach him. The ache in his shoulder ground with every movement, bone protesting where instinct alone had kept it together. His ribs burned. His hands trembled, fingers numb and stiff.
The redness in and around his eyes was receding quickly. All that remained was the cost. Kaizer pushed himself upright on shaking arms and froze. Where he thought he would be in a safe room, instead, there were no walls. No ceiling. No sky.
He stood on a stone pathway, wide enough for two people to walk abreast, stretching forward into nothing. The path did not narrow or curve. It simply extended forward, uninterrupted towards a grey void without horizon or feature. There was no sense of scale, no distance markers or light source. The stone beneath his feet was worn smooth, not by erosion but by passage, as if countless steps had polished it over time.
Behind him, there was nothing but a solid wall. No entrance to the dungeon could be seen. Kaizer swallowed and forced himself fully upright. His legs wobbled a little bit from exhaustion but held. Every muscle in his body protested for rest. He hissed through his teeth, then stilled his breathing, letting habit take over.
“Status Window.”
The display snapped into place, stark and too clean against the void.
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STATUS WINDOW
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Name: Kaizer Harth
Race: Human (Beast Touched)
Class: Bestial Fighter (Rare – Level 11)
Profession: Harvester (Inferior – Level 4)
Core Rank: Initiate
Essence Capacity: Rank F
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ATTRIBUTES
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Strength: 17 (+1)
Endurance: 15 (+1)
Agility: 20 (+2)
Perception: 13
Mind: 15
Instinct: 37
Free Points: 8
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TRAITS
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Divine Blessing of Silver
Instinctive Regeneration
Feral Insight
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DAO
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Dao of Ferocity (Seed)
Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.
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SKILLS
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Beast Claw (Common)
Beast Extraction (Inferior)
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Equipment
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Short Bone Spear (Inferior – Initiate)
Crude Leather Armour (Inferior – Initiate)
Crude Leather Boots (Inferior – Initiate)
Crude Leather Wrappings (Inferior – Initiate)
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There were a few things Kaizer took note of. Firstly, he had gained two levels. For killing somewhere in the realm of 50 people, he had only gained 2 levels. Kaizer figured this was due to them all being lower level than him, experience essence must drastically reduce as opponents become further behind in power, coupled with the requirement of exponentially more of the very same essence with every level, it makes sense that he wouldn’t have gained a tonne.
Next, Kaizer noticed he now had a new section for Dao, specifically the Dao of Ferocity. Kaizer surmised that this must be what caused him to enter a berserk like state, killing without thinking or feeling. Now that he had calmed down, Kaizer wasn’t sure if he like that. He tried to drill down and learn more information about the Dao of Ferocity but all the system would provide was “The Dao is the affinity of your soul.”
“Some fucking help you are system, isn’t this supposed to be a tutorial?” Kaizer complained. Finally, his Beast Claws had increased in rarity. He had remembered having the claws on both hands now. He had thought that the skill was attached to the arm received by Silver as part of his blessing but maybe it was just part of who he was now. He brought up the skill description window.
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Skill: Beast Claw (Common)
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You manifest the natural weapons of beastkind, forming retractable claws along both hands.
These claws are an extension of your body rather than an external construct, responding directly to instinct, intent, and essence flow.
When manifested, they possess exceptional sharpness and structural integrity, capable of rending flesh, hide, and bone with equal ease when applied correctly.
Improper control results in unnecessary destruction and loss of material.
Sustained manifestation places continuous strain on essence circulation.
The claws will retract automatically upon essence depletion or loss of consciousness.
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Well, that was handy to know. He stared back at the status window for perhaps longer than he should have, especially being in such an unknown place. A faint. Bitter twist settled in his gut. The screen felt detached from reality, like it belonged to someone else. As if numbers could summarise the lives he had just taken.
Pain flared yet again in his mind as he dismissed the window. “I’ll allocate my points later,” he muttered. The moment the window vanished, pressure settled around him, like a slow but every growing weight on his shoulders. It was enough to make him realise the pressure from the dungeon was slowly building.
He tested the essence within his core, guiding and swirling it carefully. The flow stuttered, uneven, resisting pressure. He could see where the Dao of Ferocity had settled. A small red seed had implanted itself within his core, swirling with the essence. He tried flowing the essence toward and around it but it wouldn’t budge. When he tried to force it, pain flared behind his eyes and the circulating twisted, knots forming where there were otherwise smooth channels.
Kaizer stopped forcing it. Seconds passed, or minutes, he couldn’t tell. Then, without a sound. The dungeon text pressed itself into his mind, similar to how it presented in his previous encounter with it.
To progress, read your soul.
That was it. There was no guidance, no timer, nothing. Kaizer exhaled slowly. “Of course, fuckin system.” Kaizer had really begun to despise the lack of description and information that often came with system prompts. At the same time though, he understood the nature of working things out for yourself and striving to become better.
He took a step forward. Nothing happened. Another step, followed by another. The path did not resist him, neither did it respond. The only difference is that with every step he took, the smooth path seemed to stretch within him, like it was always there, just hidden within the void. He felt no sense of advancement or accomplishment from taking the steps. He didn’t feel like he was getting closer or further to anything, just stone beneath his feet and void ahead. So he walked.
At first, it was manageable. Pain stayed distant, dulled by exhaustion. He focused on breathing, letting it settle into a rhythm. In. Out. In. Out. Time stretched. His legs began to ache, then burn. Sweat beaded on his skin, evaporating almost instantly. Hunger gnawed at him, sharp and distracting. Thirst followed, his mouth growing dry, no matter how often he swallowed or drank from his canteen.
He tried to slow. The moment he did, pressure bloomed in his chest. His breath hitched. Essence circulation thickened, sluggish and resistant. His vision blurred. Kaizer grimaced and kept moving. At some point, his sense of time fractured completely. Hours bled into something longer. He lost track of how many steps he’d taken. His muscles trembled constantly. Every movement was demanding effort.
Thoughts broke through. Blood on his hands, the ease of killing. The moment his restraint had become just an option. He pushed the memories of slaughter aside and continued walking. They returned anyway, like the overlay during his rage, memories began to flood him. Rourke’s face, twisted in surprise. Jake’s eyes, wide and wet. The clarity and certainty. Looking back, it had honestly felt good, easy. Not the blood or the death. But the power and simplicity. The way the world had reduced itself to motion and inevitability. Ferocity answered. It answered that he could. He could do anything he wanted. He could kill, slaughter his way to the top.
The path in front of him rejected that. It demanded something else. Kaizer closed his eyes and breathed in, deep and controlled, and let the thought settle instead of rejecting it. Let it exist alongside the pain and fatigue. “What do you want from me,” he asked quietly. Yet, the path stretched on into nothingness.
He started breathing with his steps, stopped focusing on the road ahead, instead focused inward. He would continue, not because he had to but because he would never stop moving forward. Kaizer circled his essence while working. Not toward the Dao of Ferocity but away, opposite. He moved toward calm.
Gradually he understood, he spun his core, circled the warring essence inside all the while he kept walking. Cultivation was moving forward, having the will to continue. The realisation settled deep, threading through muscle and bone. That word had hit home. Will. If ferocity was the hammer, what guided it?
He looked back through his memories and arrived on his vision of the spearman. Thrusting constantly, throughout all time. Never bending, never giving up. Continuing growth, the wilful choice to continue thrusting that spear, rain hail or shine. A blue aura began to radiate softly, visibly over his heart.
Spinning his core, endlessly. Kaizer made the choice, he accepted the Dao of Ferocity, but he would temper it. It would be a controlled ferociousness. He would master his will. Slowly and surely, he watched as a blue spark started to emanate in his core. A calmness washed over him.
[Dao Seed Formed: Will]
