Three days had passed since the mountain trial.
Yan Xuanlanbin moved across the plains with slow, steady steps. His wounds were healing, though his shoulder still ached from the Heaven assassin's spear.
He didn't complain.
He couldn't.
The sword had gone quiet again — not asleep, just watchful. Like it was waiting for something.
Each night, he dreamed of fire and teeth. Claws scraping stone. Eyes glowing in the dark. The kind of things that didn't fear swords… or death.
He didn't need a map to know where he was heading.
The Beast Realm was calling.
And it wasn't whispering.
The sky darkened as he approached the next pillar of light. It rose from a canyon that split the land like an open wound, cliffs jagged and deep, thick fog curling around the edges.
Locals had another name for it:
"The Maw."
They said beasts that entered never returned.
They said it was cursed land.
Yan didn't pause.
He stepped over the cliff edge and into the fog.
The fall didn't kill him.
He never hit the ground.
Something caught him.
A pulse of power wrapped around his body like unseen hands and dropped him gently onto a moss-covered ledge.
The canyon floor was nothing like he expected.
No lava.
No bones.
Just a vast jungle, humming with strange noises.
Somewhere above him, the pillar of light shimmered, then collapsed into the earth — sealing the trial behind him.
There was only one way forward now: through.
Yan walked cautiously.
The trees were massive. Bark black as iron, leaves larger than shields. Insects buzzed loud enough to rattle the air. Strange birds circled overhead, their eyes sharp and bright.
But no beasts came out.
Not yet.
He passed bones.
Big ones.
Some shaped like wolves. Others like nothing he'd ever seen before.
The ground trembled — once, then twice.
He dropped into a crouch, hand on his sword.
The trees ahead parted.
A shadow moved.
Then came the roar.
It wasn't loud — not exactly. But it hit something ancient inside him, like it reached back into the bones of his ancestors and reminded them what real fear was.
From the mist stepped a creature taller than three men. A lion, but not. Its body was wrapped in bark and stone, its mane made of green flame. Eyes like molten gold.
It looked at Yan like one might look at a fly that wouldn't die.
Then it charged.
Yan barely had time to react.
He moved to the side, rolling under a massive paw that tore into the dirt like it was cloth. His sword flashed — once, twice — but barely scratched the beast's stone armor.
It turned with unnatural speed, tail whipping toward him.
He blocked, but the impact launched him into a tree.
He coughed, tasting blood.
The beast growled — low, dangerous.
The sword in his hand pulsed once.
Then the voice returned.
But it wasn't the mountain's voice.
This one came from inside.
"You are not prey."
Yan stood slowly.
He narrowed his eyes, then took a breath and lowered his stance.
He didn't strike yet.
Instead, he watched.
The beast circled him. Not attacking. Studying.
And then he understood.
This wasn't just a creature.
This was the trial.
Not a monster to kill — but a test to pass.
"I am not here to conquer," Yan said quietly.
The beast blinked.
He dropped the sword.
It hit the ground with a soft thud.
Then he knelt.
"I'm here to learn."
The wind stopped.
The flames on the lion's mane faded.
It walked forward.
One step.
Then another.
It stopped inches from Yan's face.
Breathed in.
And nodded.
Yan didn't flinch.
The beast turned and began to walk away, slow and regal.
Before disappearing into the mist, it growled once — softer this time.
A command.
A lesson.
"Follow."
Yan did.
He walked behind the beast for hours.
They passed broken statues. Overgrown temples. Giant trees that bled sap like gold.
And then they came to a clearing.
At the center stood a stone circle. Ancient. Covered in claw marks.
The beast turned to him.
And sat.
Waiting.
Yan stepped into the circle.
As soon as his foot touched the stone, the world shifted.
Suddenly, he stood in a different place.
The jungle was gone.
He stood in an arena of flame and ash.
The crowd roared, though he couldn't see them.
In front of him stood a boy.
His age.
Sword in hand.
Eyes hard.
The boy attacked without a word.
Yan blocked — just barely.
He fought back, but something felt wrong.
Each strike the boy landed felt too real.
Too sharp.
Then it hit him:
This wasn't another trial.
It was himself.
A reflection.
All the anger he buried. All the things he refused to feel. All his doubt, fear, and pride — now wielding a sword against him.
The fight dragged on.
Blades clashed. Feet stumbled. Blood spilled.
No fancy techniques. Just raw, vicious combat.
Until Yan stopped.
He lowered his weapon.
The other him raised his sword — then hesitated.
"I don't need to beat you," Yan said quietly. "I need to understand you."
The other Yan faltered.
Then… smiled.
And vanished.
Back in the clearing, the beast nodded.
It stood.
Then roared — not in rage, but in recognition.
From its chest came a small orb of green fire.
It floated toward Yan and sank into his sword.
The blade pulsed once. The edge sharpened. The cracks faded slightly.
The first gift.
Not power.
Understanding.
"Trial complete," the beast said in a deep voice.
"You are not prey. Not yet predator. But you walk the path."
The world blurred.
Yan woke at the top of the canyon.
The pillar of light was gone.
His sword pulsed in his hand.
He looked down at the jungle far below — now silent.
And then to the east.
Where the next trial waited.