Chapter Two: The Two Beasts

Night had finally fallen.

The forest was alive with the chorus of insects, their songs rising and falling, while the occasional flutter of wings brushed through the air. In the distance, the howls of wolves echoed, mingling with the roars of unknown beasts.

Nocturnal creatures emerged for their nightly pursuits, and the hunt began anew.

Within the hollow of a tree, Yun Yufeng sat cross-legged in silence, quietly sorting through the day’s extraordinary events. Everything had transpired so unbelievably, but before long, Yun Yufeng—always known for his wisdom and composure—accepted it all.

Since fate had granted him a second life, he was determined to live it brilliantly. In his previous life, he’d carved out his own realm in the field of physics; here, in this fantastical world, he was certain he could do the same.

The seeds of obsession and madness were etched deep in his bones, and Yun Yufeng was quickly enthralled by the unique cultivation system of the Zichen Continent.

A fourteen-year-old scion of the family had only just entered the second tier, and that was solely thanks to a Second Tier Vitality Pill provided by his father, along with an escort of guards to the encircling mountains for training—to consolidate his newly gained power.

Yun Yufeng shook his head. Fooling around day after day with nothing to show for it—such an idle and frivolous youth. Pity the hearts of all parents; his father truly had it hard.

He steadied his mind and awkwardly began to circulate the Yun Clan’s ancestral cultivation technique—the Purple Extreme Imperial Heart Sutra. A violet stream of special energy slowly flowed through his meridians, once, twice...

He continued cultivating for most of the night. When a sense of swelling in his meridians arose, Yun Yufeng finally stopped. If there had been light, one would have seen a misty purple aura swirling around his hand as he formed the incantation—a sign, according to the Heart Sutra, of breaking through to the second layer.

Letting out a soft breath, a sharp glint flashed in his dark eyes. Far from satisfied, Yun Yufeng found cultivation to be quite remarkable; after training for so long, he felt more energetic than ever, as if he no longer needed sleep.

It was said that the Purple Extreme Imperial Heart Sutra was created by the Yun Clan’s ancestor and passed down through the generations. Sadly, for reasons unknown, the family had declined, now relegated to the small town near the encircling mountains, with the patriarch’s strength barely at the peak of the fifth tier.

Legend claimed that, when perfected, this Heart Sutra could cover the sky with a hand, shatter the earth with a stomp, move mountains and overturn seas.

Restoring the Yun Clan’s former glory had long become little more than a joke; over time, even the clan’s youth dismissed the domineering name of the Purple Extreme Imperial Heart Sutra.

But Yun Yufeng thought otherwise. Where there was smoke, there was fire, and this was a legacy of his family. Though there was no evidence to prove its authenticity, he simply believed in it—an instinct, perhaps—and he would continue to cultivate the Heart Sutra. At the very least, the night’s effort had already brought him great gains.

Unfortunately, this body was in poor condition. After just one night of cultivation, his meridians were fatigued. It was a disheartening realization; once he returned, he would have to strengthen his body, for only a robust physique could unleash a warrior’s full power.

Outside, the sound of pattering rain mixed with bursts of thunder that tore through the dark sky. Yun Yufeng crept to the entrance, peering through the cracks in the barricade. In the distance, eerie green and red lights glimmered—it was the eyes of magical beasts, dotting the night with an unsettling brilliance.

He blinked, drew his head back, and muttered, “Forget it, I’d better get some honest sleep. Who knows, tomorrow I might be toyed with half to death by those magical beasts!”

Dawn gradually broke.

Suddenly, a piercing howl and a deafening roar rang out from afar. It seemed two magical beasts were locked in combat, their battle drawing inexorably closer, startling Yun Yufeng from his sleep.

He hurried to the opening and saw two streaks—one red, one silver—racing and intertwining across the sky, their clashes resounding like thunder.

In less than a quarter of an hour, the beasts came into clear view. The silver one, wolf-like in form, was immense—its body suspended in the air, dozens of meters long. Powerful, lithe legs, muscles bulging, claws extended, it appeared to walk on air as if treading solid ground.

The other, crimson throughout, resembled a tiger, but with wings sprouting from its back and flames enveloping its body, scorching the very air until it seemed to warp and ripple.

Unbeknownst to Yun Yufeng, he was witnessing a battle between two eighth-tier magical beasts: the Howling Moon Skywolf and the Scarlet Flame Tiger King. Had he known, he might not have watched so calmly from his hiding place.

The beasts grew impatient. The Skywolf was the first to unleash a high-pitched howl; a flash of silver light burst forth, and a tremendous aura shattered the forest canopy, sending branches flying.

A silver pillar of light descended from the sky—the condensed radiance of the as-yet-unset silver moon—striking the wolf and swelling its power. Winds raged, sending the shrubbery whipping in all directions.

Not to be outdone, the Scarlet Flame Tiger King’s flames contracted violently, then swelled, doubling its size. With a roar, it lunged at the Skywolf.

The two beasts, now fully committed, unleashed ear-piercing cries and terrifying waves of energy, sending lesser magical beasts fleeing for miles around, fearing to be caught in the crossfire.

Suddenly, the entangled beasts broke apart. The Skywolf’s once-silver pelt was now scorched and patchy, blood dripping from its fur, a grotesque wound on its neck exposing the pulsing vessels beneath. The Tiger King seemed unscathed on the surface, but its body had shrunk by half, and its flames were nearly extinguished.

They glared at each other, both hesitating—further fighting could mean their mutual destruction.

Then, the silver wolf’s face twisted in pain, and it staggered backward, trembling.

Eighth-tier magical beasts were nearly as intelligent as humans. The Tiger King’s eyes narrowed in decision; with a roar, it pounced, raising its front paw high to strike the Skywolf from the sky.

The Skywolf did not move. Unresisting, it was smashed down by the Tiger King’s blow.

With a thunderous crash, rocks flew and the Skywolf let out a shrill scream. Seizing the moment, the Tiger King became a streak of red, darting toward its fallen foe.

Yet as it neared, silver light exploded—the Tiger King was hurled even faster into the sky, blood spraying, the last of its flames snuffed out to reveal its true form. A gaping hole pierced its body from belly to back.

With a final wail, the Tiger King spat a ball of fire at the Skywolf before crashing to earth, never to move again. The fire struck its target with a resounding boom, a column of smoke rising into the sky as the forest fell into silence.

Yun Yufeng waited a while in his tree hollow, listening for any further sounds. Hearing none, he slipped out and crept toward where the beasts had fallen.

He didn’t know their exact rank, but the sheer devastation of their battle meant their remains would be priceless. Even if he couldn’t take them away, he had to see for himself—it would be a shame to come all this way and not at least look.

He approached. The Tiger King was truly dead, its spine pierced by a ghastly wound, entrails spilled across the ground. Its scalding blood had pooled into a steaming, bubbling puddle.

The Skywolf’s silver fur was nearly unrecognizable, charred in patches, the waist twisted at a grotesque angle—likely from the Tiger King’s crushing blow.

Standing at ground level, Yun Yufeng found himself eye-to-eye with the Skywolf. Its neck was bent backward, eyes fixed behind it, as if trying to look at something.

Circling to the rear, Yun Yufeng discovered a furry little head poking out from the wolf’s tail—it was a newborn wolf pup.

No wonder the battle had ended so dramatically; the Skywolf had been pregnant, and the violence of the fight had forced it to give birth.

Yun Yufeng bent down and picked up the pup. Its eyes just opened, it naively licked his hand, letting him gently wipe the blood from its fur.

Cradling the little wolf, Yun Yufeng gazed at the two massive corpses, feeling troubled. So much gold—he, who was used to handling scientific instruments worth tens of millions or even billions, cared little for the five hundred silver notes in his pocket.

If he could sell the bodies, it would fetch a fortune! It was maddening, standing atop a mountain of gold yet unable to move it.

He looked at the pup in his arms; he’d have to feed this little one. But the Tiger King’s blood was out of the question—it was boiling hot, still bubbling. The pup would be scalded to death before it could drink any.

He stood there in a daze for a while, then headed toward the crude path trampled by the stampede of magical beasts the previous day.

After a night of rain, the scent of blood had faded, likely no longer enough to attract other beasts.

By logic, the fleeing creatures would have headed for the forest’s edge, not deeper into danger. If he followed this path, he might just find his way out.

So Yun Yufeng thought to himself.

He set off silently, carrying the wolf cub, into the uncertain dawn.