"Was it my mind playing tricks on me?" Bi Kan whispered into the oppressive silence of the grove. "That wolf… it seemed to be something else entirely. Is it even a creature that is supposed to live here?"

  A wave of profound regret washed over him. He cursed his own impatience. If he had only taken the time to read Senior Brother Wei Zing's bestiary from cover to cover, he might have found some clue, some small mention of a celestial wolf with amethyst eyes. Now, he was left with nothing but a mystery and a strange, cold feather tucked safely in his robes.

  But existential questions about otherworldly fauna could wait. A more immediate, primal concern rumbled in his stomach. The boars. Their hulking, still-warm carcasses lay where they had fallen, a testament to their mindless fury. They were also, he realized with a sudden, savage grin, a mountain of fresh meat. "Tonight," he declared to the silent trees, "I shall feast!"

  What followed was not a battle of elegant techniques or profound martial skill, but a brutal, forty-five-minute slog. It was a chaotic symphony of grunts, snarls, and the dull, percussive thwack of his ironwood sword against thick hide and dense bone.

  He dodged tusks, his movements clumsy but effective, and brought the club-like blade down again and again, channeling his Stage 5 Qi not into a refined art, but into raw, overwhelming force.

  "Hehe, you fat, lumpy animals!"

  he grunted, sweat and grime plastering his hair to his forehead. "Just die already!" Finally, with one last, skull-jarring bash, the second boar collapsed. He stood over them, panting, exhausted, but victorious.

  He worked quickly, carving off the choicest cuts of meat. He produced a small pouch of herbs and spices—a habit picked up from his time with Ming Manyu—and rubbed the fragrant mixture onto the boar steaks.

  "Hm, this talisman should do the trick,"

  he murmured, pulling out a small, inscribed paper slip. He tossed it onto a pile of dry kindling, and with a soft fwoom, a clean, bright flame sprang to life. As the rich, savory aroma of roasting meat began to fill the clearing, he leaned back against a tree, a deep sense of satisfaction settling over him.

  It was in this state of weary contentment that his world tilted on its axis. He had just taken his first, juicy bite when he noticed it. Sitting across the fire from him, as if it had been there the entire time, was the celestial wolf. It was already delicately nibbling on a large chunk of meat.

  Bi Kan froze, the half-chewed piece of boar still in his mouth. "Heh," he managed to choke out, trying to project a nonchalant air he absolutely did not feel. "You're hungry too? Good. I hope it tastes… good." He took another bite, his mind racing.

  How did it get here? I didn't hear a single sound! Not a leaf rustled, not a twig snapped! He slowly chewed, his eyes wide, trying to process the impossible creature before him. A wolf made of moonlight, eating roast boar like a dinner guest. He swallowed. And then he spat the entire mouthful of meat onto the ground.

  "W-WHAT?!" he shrieked, scrambling backwards so fast he nearly tripped over a root. "You're here! Why are you here?! Did you smell the damned meat?!"

  The wolf paused its meal. It slowly lifted its head and looked at him. Its amethyst eyes held no malice, no fear, just a cool, silent appraisal that felt unnervingly intelligent. Then, with an air of profound, aristocratic disdain, it turned its head away from him, deliberately presenting its back as it resumed eating with a quiet, dignified grace.

  Bi Kan was so stunned he was rendered speechless. "W-what…" he stammered to himself, his voice a disbelieving whisper. "Not only is it magnificent, it's also… sassy? If I were a crazed man, I'd think that wolf was once human."

  He watched, dumbfounded, as the creature finished its portion of the boar. When it was done, it rose, shook its silvery pelt—a movement that seemed to scatter motes of starlight into the air and gave him one last, meaningful look.

  It then turned and began to walk, not vanishing into the shadows this time, but moving at a steady, deliberate pace into the deeper, darker part of the grove. After a dozen paces, it stopped and glanced back over its shoulder, its amethyst eyes seeming to ask a single, silent question.

  Are you coming?

  Bi Kan’s mission, the vipers, the contribution points—it all seemed to fade into the background. This was something else. A mystery. An invitation, His heart pounded, not with fear, but with the thrilling, terrifying call of the unknown. He quickly packed up the remaining cooked meat, slung his crude sword over his back, and took a hesitant step forward, following the impossible wolf into the heart of the Spirit-Wood Grove.

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  The moonless night pressed in, a black velvet cloak that smothered all light. The celestial wolf, however, was its own lantern, a moving constellation of silver and starlight. Bi Kan followed, his heart a frantic drum against his ribs, every rational instinct screaming at him to turn back.

  But he couldn't. He was a moth drawn to an impossible, ethereal flame. The wolf led him not to a grand cavern, but to a fissure in a rock face, so cleverly hidden by overgrown vines that he would have walked past it a thousand times without a second glance.

  Inside, the air was still and ancient. The wolf’s soft glow illuminated a small, natural grotto, a forgotten treasure hoard. Rusted, masterwork armor lay in a heap, its spiritual energy long since faded. Scrolls, bound in what looked like beast hide, were stacked precariously, their edges brittle with age.

  A small pile of spirit stones, now dull and grey, had been bled dry of their power. At the very center, however, two items commanded the light: a longsword, its blade a sliver of polished darkness, resting on a simple stone dais, and next to it, a single, crimson pill that seemed to pulse with a gentle, inner warmth.

  The wolf, its form now flickering and translucent, was fading. The brilliant silver of its pelt had dimmed, and its movements were slow, weary. It stumbled towards the crimson pill, its otherworldly energy dissipating like smoke on the wind.

  With a final, desperate effort, it nudged the pill with its muzzle, pushing it towards Bi Kan. Its amethyst eyes, now clouded with an ancient exhaustion, met his one last time.

  Then, its aura, its very essence, erupted in a final, incandescent flare. It was not an explosion, but an implosion, coalescing into a spear of pure starlight that shot across the grotto and slammed into Bi Kan’s forehead, right between his eyes.

  "N-Ngh! AGH!"

  The world dissolved into white-hot agony. He was slammed to his knees as if struck by a physical blow, his entire nervous system screaming.

  But this was no mere physical pain. It was an invasion. He felt a vast, ancient consciousness crash into his own soul, a leviathan plunging into the quiet lake of his mind. His memories, his ambitions, his very sense of self were being torn apart, scattered like leaves in a hurricane.

  It’s not just trying to possess me, he realized with a surge of pure terror. It’s trying to… overwrite me! I am to be its vessel!

  He threw his head back and howled, a raw, animal sound of pure torment. The strain on his psyche was unbearable, a crushing pressure that threatened to shatter his very being. He scrambled forward on his hands and knees and began to bash his head against the cold stone wall of the cave, the sharp, wet impacts a desperate attempt to drown out the internal agony with a physical one.

  "MAKE IT STOP!" he screamed, tears and blood mingling on his face as he hammered his skull against the unforgiving rock.

  He collapsed, whimpering, his body a trembling wreck on the grotto floor. "Hauh… hauh… haegh…" He was utterly broken, his will eroded by a pain beyond comprehension.

  His trembling hand crawled across the dusty stone, searching for something, anything, to make it end. His fingers brushed against something cold, smooth, and perfectly balanced. The hilt of the dark sword.

  He grasped it, the ancient metal cool against his feverish skin. The pain inside him seemed to coalesce into a seductive whisper, a promise of release. Peace… it can all be over… one quick movement… His eyes were bloodshot, a crazed, desperate grin stretching his lips.

  "Yes… Yes, I'll… be at peace…"

  He dragged himself into a sitting position, leveling the impossibly sharp tip of the blade at his own throat.

  He lunged.

  His other hand, moving with a will of its own, shot out and clamped down on his wrist, stopping the blade a hair's breadth from his skin. A different voice, his own voice, roared from the depths of his being, a furious defiance against the encroaching darkness.

  NO! I will not be a weed! I will not be erased! The memory of Ming Mei’s smile, of Shi Lam’s loyalty, of Yao Zhen’s sneer, it all flooded back, a bulwark against the tide of pain. "Steel… myself!" he gasped, the words ragged. "The… R-Red… Pill!"

  With a final, convulsive effort, he threw the sword. It clattered against the far wall, the sound echoing his victory over despair. He crawled, half-slithering like a wounded snake, towards the crimson pill. He didn't have the strength to pick it up. He simply lowered his head and ate it from the dusty floor.

  A wave of cool, anchoring energy spread from his core, a profound and stabilizing force. The raging storm in his soul did not cease, but for a blissful moment, he had found solid ground. "Y-Yes—"

  The agony returned, tenfold. "AGHHHH!!!"

  The pill wasn't a cure. It was a catalyst. It hadn't banished the wolf's soul; it had given Bi Kan's soul the strength to fight for its own territory.

  He instinctively fell into a cultivation posture, not to break through, but simply to survive. He closed his eyes and looked inward, into the tempest of his own spirit.

  It was no longer a calm lake. It was a roiling, chaotic Soul Sea. At its center, his own spiritual core, his very essence flickered like a guttering candle. And coiled around it, vast and shimmering with the light of a thousand stars, was the soul of the wolf. It was not attacking, merely… present. A sleeping sovereign in a conquered land.

  This energy was something else entirely. It was not Qi. It was ancient, primordial, and utterly alien. And now, it was a part of him, even if he had no Soul Sea, even if it was far away, it was beginning to form within his mind, a faint silhouette of that wolf bare foot within, for now he must steel himself, and calm the raging Qi that had just entered him, even if it was beyond him, the pill will do the rest.