—————
Nine hundred and eighty-seven years.
The number pulsed in my consciousness like a second heartbeat, a constant reminder of how close I was to a fundamental transformation. Thirteen years. Thirteen years of accumulated soul age separated me from the thousand-year threshold, from my first true soul skill, from becoming something more than a beast with unusual abilities.
Thirteen years could be acquired in a single successful hunt.
The wet season had given way to a period of relative dryness, though "dry" in this jungle merely meant the difference between constant rainfall and occasional showers. The reduced moisture had altered the behavior patterns of many species, concentrating prey around the remaining water sources and creating opportunities for a patient predator.
I had spent the past week observing one such concentration—a shallow pool fed by an underground spring, where dozens of soul beasts gathered daily to drink and hunt. The location was dangerous, exposed, the kind of territory where predators of all sizes competed for access to the abundant prey. I had avoided such areas throughout my cultivation, preferring the safety of solitary hunting in less contested regions.
But I needed those final thirteen years. And the pool offered something that my usual hunting grounds could not.
Species Identification: Phantom Shrew. A small mammalian soul beast approximately the size of a large rat, distinguished by semi-transparent fur that rendered the creature partially invisible under most lighting conditions. Native to wetland regions, commonly found near permanent water sources. Solitary, nervous, primarily insectivorous.
Estimated Soul Age: The specimen I had been observing for the past three days appeared to be an elder of its kind—larger than typical, with fur that achieved near-complete transparency rather than the partial effect seen in younger individuals. I estimated its age at forty to sixty years, though the species was unfamiliar enough that I could not be certain.
Known Behaviors: Phantom Shrews were crepuscular, most active during dawn and dusk when their transparency was most effective. They fed primarily on insects and small invertebrates, using their semi-visibility to approach prey undetected. Their primary defense was flight—at the first sign of danger, they would bolt for the nearest cover with surprising speed for their size.
Abilities: The transparency was the key attribute. Unlike the light-absorption I had cultivated from Shadow Weasels and the Void Moth, the Phantom Shrew achieved concealment through a different mechanism—its fur somehow bent light around its body, creating a visual distortion that made the creature extremely difficult to perceive. This represented a complementary form of stealth that could potentially enhance my existing capabilities.
Vulnerabilities: Despite their visual camouflage, Phantom Shrews were not silent. Their movement created noise—rustling grass, displaced pebbles, the subtle sounds of small bodies passing through vegetation. Additionally, their transparency did not extend to their scent, and their musk was distinctive, sharp, easily tracked by chemical senses. For a predator who hunted primarily by smell and vibration, their primary defense was essentially useless.
Hunting Strategy: Standard approach—dawn ambush during the shrew's morning foraging period. Position near its established feeding path, identified through three days of observation. Strike when the creature pauses to consume prey, when its attention is divided. The main complication was the exposed nature of the pool area—other predators frequented this location, and my presence during the hunt would be visible to any observers.
The risk was acceptable. I needed those years.
—————
Dawn arrived with the gradual lightening of the sky visible through gaps in the canopy. I had positioned myself hours earlier, finding a depression in the ground near the shrew's established path that allowed me to press my body flat against the earth. My evolved scales drank in the pre-dawn darkness, rendering me a slightly darker shadow among many shadows.
The pool came alive as the sun rose. Small creatures emerged from their nighttime shelters, drawn by the necessity of water. Birds descended from the canopy to drink and bathe. Larger shapes moved at the pool's edge—shapes I tracked with careful attention but did not engage. My focus was singular. The shrew. Only the shrew.
The Phantom Shrew appeared approximately forty minutes after first light, emerging from a tangle of roots near the pool's southern edge. I detected it first by scent—that sharp, distinctive musk—then by the subtle vibrations of its tiny feet against the forest floor. The visual confirmation came moments later, a slight distortion in the air that moved with purpose toward a patch of ground rich with insect activity.
It was following its established path. Exactly as predicted.
I monitored its approach with predatory focus, calculating distances, timing my strike. Twenty feet. Fifteen. The shrew paused to investigate something—a beetle, perhaps, or a grub—and resumed its path. Ten feet.
The shrew stopped again, this time directly over a concentration of insects. Its body shifted, becoming slightly more visible as its attention focused on the prey beneath it rather than maintaining its camouflage. Its tiny jaws opened, preparing to strike at the unsuspecting insects.
Now.
My lunge covered the remaining distance in a fraction of a second, fangs extended, targeting the point where scent and vibration indicated the creature's small body should be. The shrew's reflexes triggered instantly—it was already beginning to bolt when my strike landed—but its reaction came too late.
Contact. Penetration. Venom.
The shrew's flight carried it perhaps six inches before my toxins began affecting its nervous system. Its legs faltered. Its body tumbled. I was on it before it hit the ground, coils wrapping around its transparent form with practiced efficiency.
The kill was clean. The consumption, quick.
And as I absorbed the shrew's essence—fifty-three years, bringing my total to one thousand and forty—something fundamental shifted within my being.
The sensation was unlike anything I had experienced in this life or my previous one. It began as warmth in my core, similar to but far more intense than the feeling that accompanied normal absorption. But where that warmth typically dispersed throughout my body, integrating gradually with my existing essence, this heat seemed to concentrate, to compress, to build toward something.
Pressure. Rising pressure in the center of my being, as if something was trying to emerge from within me.
I abandoned the pool area immediately, instinct driving me toward concealment despite the distraction of the ongoing transformation. My body moved almost automatically, sliding through undergrowth and over roots while my conscious attention focused inward on the building pressure.
The sensation crested as I reached the relative safety of a dense thicket. The pressure peaked, held for a moment that seemed to stretch into eternity, and then—
Release.
Something clicked into place within my spiritual structure, a new pathway opening in my soul that had not existed moments before. Knowledge flooded my mind—not memories, not learned information, but intrinsic understanding of a capability that was now as fundamental to my being as my heartbeat or my venom.
My first soul skill.
I tested it immediately, instinctively. A flexion of will, a reaching toward that new pathway, and—
The world dimmed around me. Not my perception of the world—the world itself, the light that fell upon my scales, seemed to fade. I could see my own body, could observe my dark scales drinking in the ambient illumination with hungry intensity, and where that light touched me, it simply… stopped.
I was a void in the shape of a serpent. A darkness that existed in defiance of the light attempting to reveal it.
The skill was exactly what I had cultivated it to be.
Soul Skill: Void Embrace. An active concealment ability that dramatically enhanced my natural light-absorption, extending the effect to create a zone of artificial shadow around my body. Within this zone, light was consumed rather than reflected, rendering me effectively invisible to visual detection. The skill consumed soul power to maintain—I could feel the slow drain even now—but the consumption was manageable, sustainable for extended periods.
I held the skill active for approximately thirty seconds, observing its effects, testing its limits. The zone of darkness extended roughly six inches from my body in all directions, large enough to fully conceal my six-foot form. Movement did not disrupt the effect, though rapid motion seemed to increase the power consumption. Sound and scent were not affected—the skill was purely visual.
Limitations noted. Advantages confirmed. The skill was precisely what I had needed.
I released the Void Embrace, feeling my power consumption return to baseline, and allowed myself a moment of cold satisfaction. Months of careful hunting, of deliberate prey selection, of patient cultivation toward a specific goal—all of it had paid off exactly as calculated.
The serpent had learned to become shadow.
—————
The weeks following my breakthrough were dedicated to mastering my new capability. I hunted during daylight hours, testing the Void Embrace against various lighting conditions. I experimented with partial activation, discovering that I could modulate the skill's intensity to balance concealment against power consumption. I practiced moving while maintaining the effect, developing the mental discipline required to split my attention between hunting and skill maintenance.
The results exceeded my expectations.
Under optimal conditions—low light, minimal movement, full activation—the Void Embrace rendered me undetectable to any creature relying on sight alone. Even in bright sunlight, the skill created sufficient shadow to blur my outline, breaking up my recognizable form into something the eye struggled to interpret as "predator."
My hunting efficiency increased dramatically. Prey that would have detected my approach and fled now remained oblivious until my fangs found their flesh. Species I had previously considered too wary to hunt became viable targets. My soul age, which had climbed slowly over the preceding months, began to accumulate with new speed.
One thousand and forty years became one thousand two hundred. Then one thousand five hundred. Then two thousand.
The growth was intoxicating in its way—a tangible measure of progress, of power, of the slow transformation from prey to predator. But I did not allow the success to breed carelessness. Every hunt was still analyzed, planned, executed with the same methodical precision I had developed during my vulnerable early months. The Void Embrace was an advantage, not a guarantee. Overconfidence killed more effectively than any predator.
It was during my third month past the thousand-year threshold that I made the decision to push deeper.
The logic was straightforward. My current territory had served me well during my initial cultivation, providing adequate prey with minimal risk. But the soul beasts in this region tended toward lower soul ages—most specimens measured in decades rather than centuries, requiring numerous successful hunts to achieve meaningful progress.
Deeper in the jungle, according to the behavioral patterns I had observed in ranging predators, older and more powerful soul beasts made their homes. Creatures of centuries and millennia, whose accumulated soul ages represented exponentially greater rewards than my current prey.
Of course, such creatures were also exponentially more dangerous. Many would be capable of killing me despite my improved concealment. Some might possess senses that could pierce my Void Embrace entirely. The risk-reward calculation had shifted, but it had not eliminated the risk.
I spent two weeks preparing for the transition, building my reserves, studying the patterns of the larger predators who occasionally passed through my territory. I identified the most promising direction—southeast, where the jungle grew denser and the canopy higher, where I had never detected the vibration signatures of human footsteps—and planned my route with characteristic caution.
The journey itself took four days, as I moved slowly and carefully through increasingly unfamiliar territory. The jungle changed as I traveled—the trees grew larger, older, their trunks thick enough that I could have coiled around them three times without meeting my own tail. The undergrowth became sparser, starved of light by the impenetrable canopy above. The ambient spirit energy grew denser, a pressure against my scales that I had come to associate with regions of high soul beast concentration.
And the creatures I detected grew proportionally more formidable.
On my second day of travel, I passed through the territory of something massive—a creature whose footsteps registered as deep, rhythmic tremors in the earth, whose scent carried undertones of age and power that made my instincts scream for flight. I did not attempt to observe this beast, did not even slow my passage through its domain. Whatever it was, it was far beyond my current ability to challenge.
On my third day, I encountered direct evidence of predation that chilled my blood. A kill site, relatively fresh, where something had torn apart a creature easily three times my size. The wounds were distinctive—deep gouges, consistent with talons or claws, delivered with force sufficient to shatter bone. I analyzed the scene for several minutes, cataloging details, building a profile of the unknown predator.
Large. Aerial, based on the attack angle and the absence of ground-based approach signs. Powerful enough to bring down substantial prey with single strikes. Territorial, likely, given the confidence of the kill—no attempt had been made to conceal the remains from competing scavengers.
I modified my travel patterns accordingly, spending more time in dense cover, avoiding open areas where an aerial predator might spot me from above.
The fourth day brought me to what I had been seeking—a section of the deep jungle where my senses detected numerous soul beasts of significant age. The scent trails here were rich and complex, layered with the musk of creatures who had walked these paths for decades or centuries. The vibration patterns indicated regular traffic by beasts of varying sizes. The very air seemed heavy with accumulated spirit energy.
I had found my new hunting ground.
The first order of business was establishing a secure territory—a defensible area where I could rest and process prey without interference from larger predators. I spent three days exploring before settling on a location: a rocky outcropping riddled with narrow crevices, too small for most of the larger creatures I had detected but perfectly sized for my serpentine body. The stone would mask my thermal signature and muffle the vibrations of my movement. The multiple entrances would provide escape routes if discovery occurred.
It was, by my assessment, as secure as any location in this dangerous new region could be.
Then I began to hunt.
—————
Prey Analysis: Whisper Moth
Species Identification: Whisper Moth. A large insectoid soul beast, wingspan approximately two feet, distinguished by wings covered in sound-dampening scales. Native to deep forest regions. Nocturnal, feeding on tree sap and occasionally small sleeping creatures.
Estimated Soul Age: The specimen I observed measured larger than typical, with wings that created not just silence but a subtle zone of sound-absorption around its body. I estimated three hundred to four hundred years—an elder of its kind.
Abilities: The sound-dampening was the primary attribute of interest. While I already possessed visual concealment through my Void Embrace, my movement still created detectable vibrations and sounds. If I could absorb even a portion of the Whisper Moth's capability, I would add auditory stealth to my already formidable visual concealment.
Hunting Strategy: Night ambush, targeting the creature during its feeding period when it would be stationary against tree bark. The Void Embrace would allow approach despite the moonlight. Strike to the thorax for immediate incapacitation.
Result: Successful. Three hundred and sixty-one years absorbed. Subtle enhancement to my movement—subsequent tests indicated a marginal reduction in the sound my scales produced against surfaces.
—————
Prey Analysis: Stone-Ear Lizard
Species Identification: Stone-Ear Lizard. A reptilian soul beast approximately four feet in length, distinguished by massively overdeveloped tympanic membranes capable of detecting sounds at extreme distances. Native to rocky regions. Diurnal, feeding on insects and small vertebrates.
Estimated Soul Age: The specimen I identified appeared to be in its middle years—not an elder, but well-established in its territory. I estimated one hundred fifty to two hundred years.
Abilities: The enhanced hearing represented a potential addition to my sensory capabilities. My current prey detection relied primarily on chemical senses and vibration—adding sophisticated auditory processing might allow me to identify threats and opportunities at greater range.
Hunting Strategy: Approach from downwind during the lizard's basking period. The challenge was the creature's exceptional hearing—standard approach would be detected long before I reached striking range. Solution: utilize Void Embrace for visual concealment combined with extremely slow movement to minimize sound generation. Accept extended approach time in exchange for maintained stealth.
Result: Failed. Despite my precautions, the lizard detected my approach at approximately thirty feet and fled before I could close the distance. Post-analysis indicated that my sound-dampening abilities, while improved, remained insufficient against hearing this acute. The creature's reaction time was also faster than estimated—even if I had closed to striking range, success was not guaranteed.
Lessons: Not all prey is viable regardless of approach refinement. The Stone-Ear Lizard's hearing effectively negated my current capabilities. Alternative strategies required—perhaps targeting juveniles with less developed senses, or waiting until I had accumulated additional sound-dampening from other prey.
—————
Prey Analysis: Depth Crawler
Species Identification: Depth Crawler. An arachnid soul beast approximately three feet in diameter, distinguished by the ability to sense vibrations through any surface it touched with extraordinary precision. Native to cave systems and underground environments. Nocturnal, ambush predator feeding on creatures that entered its territory.
Estimated Soul Age: The specimen I discovered occupied a small cave system near the eastern edge of my new territory. Based on web patterns and territorial markers, I estimated four hundred to five hundred years—a venerable hunter well-established in its domain.
Abilities: The vibration sensitivity was the attribute of interest. While my own vibration detection was functional, it remained inferior to dedicated sensory organs. Enhanced vibration sense would allow me to detect approaching threats earlier and track prey with greater precision.
Hunting Strategy: The creature's strength—its vibration sensitivity—was also its primary vulnerability. It could detect anything that moved within its territory, but presumably could not detect what remained perfectly still. Strategy: enter the cave system, find a position near the crawler's preferred hunting ground, achieve absolute stillness, and wait for the creature to approach within striking range.
Result: Partially successful. The Depth Crawler's sensitivity exceeded my estimates—it detected minute movements I had not consciously registered, involuntary muscle tensions and circulatory pulses. It approached my position several times during an eight-hour period but never came within striking range, apparently suspicious of the unusual stillness it detected. Success eventually came through exhaustion—after approximately twelve hours, the crawler's attention appeared to waver, and it passed within four feet of my position. The strike was successful, though the creature's defensive response—venomous fangs that scored shallow gouges across my scales—caused minor injury before my venom took effect.
Four hundred and seventy-three years absorbed. Notable enhancement to vibration sensitivity—subsequent tests indicated approximately forty percent improvement in detection range and precision.
—————
The pattern continued over the following months. Some hunts succeeded; others failed. I learned to assess not just prey attributes but my own limitations, recognizing when a target was beyond my current capabilities regardless of its potential value. The failed hunts were frustrating but instructive—each one revealed gaps in my abilities that informed future prey selection.
Gradually, my accumulated capabilities began to form a coherent whole. Visual concealment through the Void Embrace and natural light-absorption. Sound-dampening that, while imperfect, reduced my auditory signature significantly. Enhanced vibration detection that allowed me to perceive approaching creatures at greater distances. Improved chemical processing that made scent-tracking faster and more precise.
I was becoming a complete stealth predator—invisible, silent, aware.
By the sixth month of my deep jungle residence, my soul age had climbed to approximately four thousand years. Still insignificant by the standards of the truly powerful, but enough to mark me as something more than common prey. My body had grown to nearly eight feet in length, my scales had hardened to resist casual damage, and my venom had developed additional potency.
Then the eagle came.
—————
I detected it first as a disruption in the canopy—a sudden silence among the birds that normally filled the upper reaches with their calls. This was followed by a pressure, a weight of spiritual presence that pressed against my senses like a physical force. Something powerful was above me, moving through the treetops with predatory intent.
I froze immediately, activating my Void Embrace and pressing my body against the darkest shadow I could find. My scales drank in the scattered light, my sound-dampening reduced my auditory profile to near-zero, my vibrations stilled as I achieved the absolute motionlessness I had perfected over months of hunting.
The creature descended through a gap in the canopy, and I caught my first glimpse of something that made my blood run cold.
An eagle—if such a mundane term could describe the thing that settled on a branch perhaps forty feet above my position. Its wingspan exceeded fifteen feet, each feather gleaming with an inner light that spoke of tremendous accumulated soul power. Its eyes blazed with golden fire, scanning the forest floor with an intelligence that seemed more than merely animal. Its talons, curved and sharp, gouged deep grooves into the ancient wood of its perch.
Threat Assessment: Golden-Eye Storm Eagle
I recognized the species from fragments of knowledge carried over from my previous existence—the Storm Eagles were among the more formidable aerial predators of the Douluo continent, known for their speed, their power, and their troublesome tendency to hunt other soul beasts regardless of size or capability.
The creature before me was old. Very old. The pressure of its spiritual presence suggested a soul age measured in tens of thousands of years, possibly approaching the hundred-thousand-year threshold that marked the absolute pinnacle of soul beast existence.
This was a creature that could kill me with casual effort. A creature that could pierce any concealment with those burning golden eyes. A creature that—
It looked directly at my hiding spot.
Terror. Pure, primal terror flooded through my consciousness, drowning out the cold calculation that normally governed my thoughts. Every instinct screamed for flight, for desperate movement, for anything other than remaining frozen in place while death stared down at me with golden eyes.
I did not move.
The discipline I had cultivated over more than a year of careful existence held, barely, against the overwhelming pressure of fear. My Void Embrace remained active, consuming light with desperate intensity. My body remained absolutely still, a shadow among shadows, a patch of darkness that might be rock or root or simply an absence of illumination.
The eagle's gaze lingered on my position for an eternity compressed into perhaps three seconds. Then those burning eyes moved on, continuing their scan of the forest floor, searching for something that apparently did not include a seven-foot serpent pressed against a shadowed tree root.
It had not seen me.
Or—the thought came with a different kind of chill—it had seen me and deemed me unworthy of attention.
The eagle remained on its perch for approximately twenty minutes, a period during which I maintained my concealment with every ounce of will I possessed. When it finally departed—launching itself upward through the canopy gap with a single powerful stroke of those massive wings—I remained frozen for another full hour, waiting for the return that might signal a change of mind.
The return never came.
When I finally allowed myself to move, to release my Void Embrace, to uncoil from my position of desperate concealment, the fear had transmuted into something else.
Anger.
Cold, focused anger at my own helplessness. At the casual power of the creature that had so easily reduced me to terrified prey. At the fundamental unfairness of a world where such disparities of strength existed, where all my careful cultivation could be rendered meaningless by the attention of a single sufficiently powerful predator.
The anger served no practical purpose. I recognized this intellectually. The eagle was beyond my capability to harm or threaten in any meaningful way. Resentment of its existence accomplished nothing. The rational response was simply to avoid it, to factor its presence into my territorial calculations, to continue my patient accumulation until I had grown strong enough that such creatures no longer represented automatic death.
But the anger remained nonetheless, a cold ember in my core that refused to be extinguished by logic alone.
I would remember that eagle. Remember the fear, the helplessness, the casual dismissal of my existence as irrelevant.
And one day—one day, when I had grown strong enough—I would ensure that such creatures had reason to notice me.
—————
The encounter with the Storm Eagle prompted a strategic reassessment.
I had come to the deep jungle seeking stronger prey, accepting increased risk in exchange for faster cultivation. The logic had been sound at the time. But the eagle represented a category of risk I had not fully appreciated—not just dangerous predators, but apex beings whose attention meant instant death regardless of my concealment capabilities.
I needed to be deeper. Further from the territories of such creatures. In regions where even supreme predators rarely ventured.
The jungle continued south and east, growing denser and darker as the terrain descended toward what I estimated to be a major river system. The creature density appeared to decrease in this direction—fewer soul beasts, but those present tended toward greater individual power. A tradeoff that, on balance, seemed to favor my survival provided I maintained my established caution.
I relocated over the following weeks, moving in careful stages, establishing temporary shelters and mapping the new territory before committing to each progression. The process was slow, but rushing had never been my nature.
By the eighth month of my deep jungle residence, I had settled in a region unlike any I had previously encountered.
The forest here had been shaped by some ancient catastrophe—perhaps a fire, perhaps a storm of supernatural origin, perhaps something else entirely. The great trees that dominated other regions were absent, replaced by dense thickets of smaller growth that created an almost impenetrable tangle of vegetation. Visibility was measured in feet rather than yards. Sound traveled strangely, absorbed by the countless leaves and stems. The very air felt different—heavier, more saturated with spirit energy than anywhere I had previously hunted.
And the creatures that inhabited this place…
—————
Prey Analysis: Void Serpent
Species Identification: Void Serpent. A reptilian soul beast approximately twelve feet in length, distinguished by scales that existed partially out of phase with normal reality. A distant relative of my own species, if I was interpreting the morphological similarities correctly. Solitary, ambush predator, feeding primarily on other reptiles and small mammals.
Estimated Soul Age: The specimen I had been observing for six days appeared to be an elder of its kind. Its phasing ability was sophisticated, allowing it to partially merge with shadows in a manner that suggested centuries of development. I estimated eight hundred to one thousand years.
Abilities: The phase-shifting was the primary attribute of interest. The creature could partially disconnect itself from normal reality, rendering physical attacks less effective and allowing it to pass through solid obstacles to a limited degree. This represented a form of defense that would complement my existing concealment capabilities—even if detected, I might be able to evade or survive attacks that would otherwise prove lethal.
Hunting Strategy: The Void Serpent's abilities made it a dangerous target. Direct approach was inadvisable—the creature's own stealth capabilities would likely detect mine, leading to mutual awareness and uncertain combat. Alternative approach: establish territorial overlap over several weeks, allowing mutual acclimation that would reduce the target's alertness to my presence. Then strike during a moment of distraction, such as the creature's own hunting activity.
Result: Successful after extended preparation. The Void Serpent was engaged during its pursuit of a smaller prey item, when its attention was divided between hunting and maintaining awareness of its territory. My strike caught it mid-lunge, my fangs finding purchase in the vulnerable throat. Its phasing ability activated reflexively, causing a disturbing sensation as my jaws partially passed through insubstantial flesh, but I maintained my grip until the venom took effect.
Nine hundred and twelve years absorbed. Significant enhancement—I could feel the phase-shifting potential integrating with my existing abilities, creating new possibilities that would require experimentation to fully understand.
—————
Prey Analysis: Echo Bat
Species Identification: Echo Bat. A chiropteran soul beast approximately two feet in wingspan, distinguished by echolocation capabilities that could penetrate most forms of physical concealment. Colonial, nocturnal, feeding on insects and occasionally blood.
Estimated Soul Age: The colony I had discovered contained dozens of individuals, ranging from newly born to elders of several centuries. My target was one of the older specimens, whose echolocation I had observed penetrating even dense vegetation with apparent ease. I estimated four hundred to five hundred years.
Abilities: The echolocation represented a sensory capability that could complement my existing detection methods. More importantly, understanding how such abilities functioned might allow me to develop countermeasures—if I could perceive echolocation the way the bat did, I might be able to evade it more effectively.
Hunting Strategy: The colonial nature of the species presented complications—attacking one individual would alert the entire group, potentially drawing collective defensive response. Strategy: isolate the target during its solo hunting, when it separated from the colony to pursue individual prey. Strike before it could emit alarm calls.
Result: Failed. The echolocation detected my approach despite my best concealment efforts—the sound waves penetrated my Void Embrace without apparent difficulty. The target fled before I could strike, emitting alarm calls that scattered the entire colony. Post-analysis indicated that my concealment, while effective against visual detection, offered no protection against sound-based sensory abilities.
Lessons: The Echo Bat represented a category of prey requiring different approach methods. Pure stealth was insufficient. Future attempts would require either ambush from extreme close range—inside the reaction window—or alternative targeting during moments of sensory vulnerability.
—————
Time passed. Hunts accumulated. My soul age climbed steadily upward—five thousand years, then six thousand, then seven thousand.
The second year of my deep jungle residence brought new developments. My body exceeded ten feet in length, my scales developed an almost metallic sheen that somehow enhanced rather than reduced their light-absorbing properties. The phase-shifting ability I had absorbed from the Void Serpent stabilized into a usable skill, allowing me to briefly disconnect from physical reality—an escape mechanism of last resort that consumed enormous amounts of soul power but might save my life if detection occurred.
And my hunting efficiency continued to improve as my accumulated enhancements synergized into an increasingly sophisticated stealth capability.
Soul Age: 7,423 years
I had moved territories twice more during this period, each relocation bringing me deeper into the wilderness, further from any region where Spirit Masters might venture. The jungle here was ancient beyond comprehension, the trees so old that their lower branches had petrified into stone while their upper canopy still lived and grew. The soul beasts that inhabited this primordial forest measured their ages in millennia rather than centuries.
The hunting grew more challenging. More dangerous. But also more rewarding.
Prey Analysis: Shade Stalker
Species Identification: Shade Stalker. A feline soul beast approximately six feet in length, distinguished by fur that actively bent light around its body in a sophisticated camouflage effect. Solitary, territorial, apex predator in its immediate region.
Estimated Soul Age: The specimen I had identified through chemical analysis and vibration tracking appeared to be one of the oldest I had encountered. Its camouflage was nearly perfect, its movements utterly silent, its territorial range vast. I estimated three thousand to four thousand years—a dangerous target by any measure.
Abilities: The light-bending camouflage represented the most sophisticated visual concealment I had encountered outside of my own developed capabilities. Absorbing this attribute might push my Void Embrace to new levels of effectiveness.
Vulnerabilities: Despite its visual perfection, the Shade Stalker could not entirely mask its scent. The musk was subtle, far lighter than most predators, but still detectable by sufficiently sensitive chemical senses. Additionally, its camouflage showed slight distortion during rapid movement—a vulnerability that might be exploited if I could provoke a hasty response.
Hunting Strategy: Extended observation to establish pattern, followed by ambush at a predictable location. The creature appeared to use certain paths regularly during its territorial patrols—routes that offered optimal concealment for its visual camouflage. By positioning myself along these paths and maintaining absolute stillness, I might allow the creature to approach within striking range before it detected my presence.
Result: Successful after three weeks of observation and positioning. The Shade Stalker passed within two feet of my concealed position during a routine patrol, apparently unaware of my presence. My strike targeted the spine at mid-body, severing neural connections and preventing the powerful limbs from mounting a defense. The creature's death struggle was violent but brief, my coils maintaining pressure until movement ceased.
About thousand years absorbed. My soul age climbed to 8,247 years. The light-bending integration was immediate and dramatic—my Void Embrace evolved perceptibly, the zone of darkness gaining an additional quality of visual distortion that made my concealed form even more difficult to perceive.
—————
The months continued to pass. My cultivation continued to climb. Each successful hunt added not just years but capabilities to my growing arsenal of stealth attributes.
I reached nine thousand years. Then nine thousand five hundred. The ten-thousand-year threshold approached, the second major milestone of soul beast cultivation, and I could feel my soul preparing for another transformation.
The first skill had been Void Embrace, a manifestation of my cultivated visual concealment. What would the second skill be? What aspect of my accumulated essence would crystallize into active capability?
I had been deliberate in my prey selection, just as I had been before the thousand-year threshold. The creatures I had targeted during this second phase of cultivation emphasized different but complementary aspects of stealth—sound-dampening, vibration-masking, scent-suppression, even temporal distortion from one particularly unusual prey. If the pattern held, my second soul skill should reflect this emphasis.
Nine thousand seven hundred years. Nine thousand eight hundred.
I hunted a Silence Moth—a creature similar to the Whisper Moth but evolved to a higher order of sound-negation. The hunt was challenging, requiring me to track a creature that produced essentially no auditory signature, but my enhanced vibration senses and chemical tracking proved sufficient. Two hundred and twelve years absorbed.
Nine thousand nine hundred and twelve years. Less than one hundred years from the threshold.
The final prey was a creature I had been tracking for nearly a month—a Ghost Owl, a nocturnal predator whose flight produced absolutely no sound and whose spiritual presence was somehow muted to near-undetectability. The hunt was the most demanding I had attempted, requiring integration of every stealth capability I possessed, but success came eventually.
One hundred and three years absorbed.
Ten thousand and fifteen years.
And for the second time in my existence, something fundamental shifted within my being.
The sensation was similar to my first skill awakening—that building pressure, that sense of something new emerging from within—but more intense, more refined. The skill that crystallized was immediately comprehensible to my evolved consciousness.
Soul Skill: Silent Passage. An active ability that extended my concealment beyond the visual spectrum. When activated, my movement produced no sound whatsoever—not merely dampened, but completely negated. Vibrations that would normally travel through ground or air were somehow absorbed before they could propagate. Even my breathing became imperceptible.
Combined with Void Embrace, the skill rendered me a phantom—invisible to sight, inaudible to hearing, detectable only through scent or spiritual senses that could pierce the veil of my concealment.
I tested the new capability extensively over the following days, probing its limits and synergies. The power consumption was manageable when used alone, but activating both skills simultaneously drained my reserves significantly faster. I would need to be selective about when to employ the full combination, reserving it for moments of greatest need or opportunity.
But the capability was real. Two years of careful cultivation, of selective hunting, of patient accumulation—all of it had led to this moment.
Ten thousand years. Two soul skills. A foundation of stealth that would carry me toward the heights of power this world offered.
I thought of the Storm Eagle, of its casual power and contemptuous dismissal. One day, I would move through the world with such complete concealment that even such creatures would fail to perceive my presence. One day, I would be the phantom that watched from the shadows while the mighty played out their dramas, invisible and eternal.
But that day was still far distant. Ten thousand years was respectable, but it was nothing compared to the truly ancient beings who had walked this world for a hundred millennia or more. The protagonists of this world's story would eventually wield power sufficient to challenge gods themselves.
I needed to continue growing. Continue hunting. Continue the patient accumulation that had brought me this far.
Somewhere out there, events were unfolding that would reshape the Douluo continent. The Spirit Hall was pursuing its schemes. The great clans were maneuvering for advantage. The protagonist—whoever they were at this point in the timeline—was beginning their journey toward destiny.
I wanted no part of it. Let the heroes and villains play their appointed roles. Let the great events unfold according to the narrative I remembered.
I would remain in the shadows, watching and waiting and growing stronger.
When the dust of destiny finally settled, when the story reached its conclusion…
I would still be here. More powerful than ever. Ready for whatever came next.
The serpent endures.