Before They Rise

The two middle-aged cultivators, their composure regained, stepped out of the shadows. Their attire and aura bore the unmistakable mark of the prestigious Bow Clan, one of the leading families of the Soaring Country and guardians of the Royal Family.

The first, a sturdy man with a rugged beard, wore a robe adorned with the silver insignia of a bow and arrow, his eyes sharp and observant. His companion, leaner and more scholarly in appearance, also bore the clan's symbol on his dark blue robe, but his hand rested lightly on the hilt of a sword, hinting at his versatility in combat.

"How did you know we were from the Bow Clan, young man?" the sturdier man inquired, his voice a blend of curiosity and challenge. The Bow Clan, based in the Royal Capital, was renowned for its archery prowess, and their patriarch held the esteemed title of General of the Palace.

"Senior, how could I fail to recognize [Arrow Piercing The Skies], the proud technique of the Bow Clan?" Ming Ren responded respectfully. As one of the most renowned archery techniques in the Soaring Country, he had studied its form extensively, his knowledge further enhanced by the insights gained from the Bright Scripture.

"Impressive," one of the Bow Clan cultivators remarked, his gaze fixed on Ming Ren. The other subtly reached for his sword, a hint of suspicion lingering in his eyes. "Is that why you spared them?"

"I wouldn't dare," Ming Ren replied with a smile. "How could I even contemplate harming them in the presence of Senior's arrow?"

The man shook his head, his gaze piercing. "We both know they would have perished before my arrow reached you."

"Senior is indeed wise," Ming Ren acknowledged, his hands clasped behind his back, his demeanor relaxed. "I simply felt it would be a pity for the world to lose another talent."

A chuckle escaped the elder cultivator's lips, echoing through the silent woods. "I can't believe I'm hearing that again in this place," he remarked, shaking his head as if to dispel a persistent thought.

His laughter subsided, replaced by a stern expression as he fixed his gaze upon Ming Ren. "Boy, the world of cultivation is not for the kind-hearted," he stated firmly. "Only the strong can afford mercy. Mercy without power is folly. Do you understand?"

Ming Ren bowed respectfully. "This junior thanks Senior for his wisdom. I will heed your words."

"Go with the young ones," the elder instructed his companion, his tone urgent.

"Yes, Elder!" With a brief glance at Ming Ren, the other cultivator hurried after the departing trio.

Turning back to Ming Ren, the elder's curiosity was piqued. "You mentioned searching for a spirit beast?" he inquired.

"Yes, a large, bug-like creature," Ming Ren confirmed.

The elder surveyed their surroundings with a discerning eye. "Are you seeking to tame it or kill it?" he asked, intrigued by the young cultivator's quest.

"Kill," Ming Ren replied resolutely, his expression unwavering.

The elder's eyebrows rose in surprise. "Alone?" he questioned, skepticism evident in his voice.

Ming Ren offered a mysterious smile. "Am I truly alone?" he countered, leaving the elder to ponder the hidden meaning behind his words.

The elder chuckled, a hearty laugh that momentarily dispelled the tension. "Something strange is indeed happening here," he conceded, his gaze turning serious as he scanned the surrounding forest. "Fewer beasts, yet those that remain are stronger than they should be. Mountain bandits and clans are at each other's throats, vying for resources and casting blame like stones in a skirmish. And you want to venture into this chaos to search for a spirit beast?"

Ming Ren nodded firmly. "Yes, Senior."

The elder hesitated, his eyes flickering with a mixture of curiosity and suspicion. He couldn't discern Ming Ren's true intentions or the extent of his power. What kind of Body Tempering Realm cultivator would exhibit such fearlessness in this situation? Who but a Heaven Chosen talent could effortlessly defeat three of his clansmen?

Ming Ren's aura hinted at a depth that surpassed mere youthful bravado, suggesting either formidable personal strength or the backing of a powerful sect. The elder's wariness stemmed from a desire to avoid offending a potential ally or a formidable foe.

With a sigh, the elder reached into his robe and retrieved a small, worn bag. He tossed it to Ming Ren, the clinking of spirit stones and pills emanating from within. "Since you spared the lives of my clansmen, it is only right that I offer you a reward," he explained.

Ming Ren accepted the bag with gratitude. "Thank you, Senior. I will not refuse your kindness."

"It may lead you to the beast you seek, or it may lead to nothing," the elder continued, his voice turning solemn. "But I have witnessed strange occurrences on the eastern path. I would not risk it if I were you. This place is cursed."

With a slight bow, he turned and vanished into the dense foliage, leaving Ming Ren alone with his thoughts.

'Cursed, huh?' Ming Ren mused, his gaze drawn to the imposing silhouette of Mount Ironclaw. He was well aware of the legends surrounding the mountain, tales of clans and sects who had sought to harness its power, only to meet tragic ends. None had succeeded; all had succumbed to mysterious fates, their ambitions fading into whispers on the wind.

'The eastern path, then,' he thought, deciding to heed the elder's advice. 'Better than nothing.'

He examined the contents of the bag, finding high-quality healing and Qi recovery pills. 'Much better than what I had before,' he noted with satisfaction.

With renewed determination, Ming Ren set off towards the eastern path, his movements swift and silent. His spiritual sense, extending like a web, allowed him to navigate the treacherous terrain and avoid encounters with the increasingly powerful spirit beasts that now roamed the area.

'The closer I get to the mountain, the stronger the metal Qi becomes,' he observed. 'It's no wonder the beasts with metal Qi affinity are so powerful here.'

His enhanced vision, courtesy of the Bright Eyes technique, revealed a world awash in metallic hues, each shade representing the varying concentrations and types of Qi that permeated the landscape. This land, though dangerous, pulsed with an abundance of spiritual energy, making it a coveted destination for cultivators seeking to hone their skills.

As he ventured deeper, the presence of featherwing spirit bugs grew increasingly dense, confirming he was on the right track. However, his spiritual sense detected no sign of the unusual beast that hosted them. Instead, he encountered groups of cultivators engaged in fierce competition for resources, their conflicts occasionally erupting into violent clashes.

One such skirmish caught his attention – a group of mountain bandits, led by a burly, scarred man wielding a massive axe, were locked in a fierce battle with Bao Shi, Slasher, and their soldiers. The bandits fought with a desperate ferocity, while Bao Shi's forces relied on discipline and coordination. The fight was evenly matched, a chaotic dance of steel and spirit energy.

Ming Ren's initial instinct was to intervene and aid Bao Shi, but he hesitated. 'Finding the spirit beast takes precedence,' he reasoned. 'Otherwise, we will all perish. Besides...'

He noticed that Bao Shi's hidden forces, the black-clad assassins, remained concealed within the shadows, observing the battle but not engaging.

Ming Ren pressed on, running through the night, his body growing weary from the relentless exertion. Despite his efforts to conserve his inner spiritual energy, fatigue began to cloud his mind.

As dawn approached, painting the sky with hues of pink and gold, his perseverance was rewarded. He stumbled upon a scene straight out of a nightmare – a massive colony of featherwing spirit bugs teeming within a rugged landscape of rock and metal ores.

This unnatural concentration of the parasites confirmed his suspicions. The spirit beast he sought was nearby, likely residing within the depths of a cave hidden amongst the rocks. He spotted large, irregular tracks leading into the cave's shadowy entrance.

Extending his spiritual sense, he peered into the darkness. The image that formed in his mind sent chills down his spine. The beast lay nestled in a grotesque nest made of leaves and gnawed wood, surrounded by the desiccated corpses of cultivators, their life force drained away.

Some were mere husks, while others clung precariously to existence, trapped in a state of perpetual torment as the beast periodically replenished their energy only to drain it again, ensuring a continuous supply of sustenance.

Ming Ren felt a surge of horror and resolve. He understood the danger he faced – this spirit beast was not just a predator, but a cunning and formidable foe that had turned Mount Ironclaw into a deadly trap.

The creature itself was a monstrous insect, its appearance both alien and unsettling. A large, round body armored with a black chitinous exoskeleton, bulbous eyes that shimmered with an eerie multitude of colors, and underdeveloped wings that twitched sporadically. Three short, segmented antennae protruded from its forehead, constantly scanning the environment.

'The elder is still following me but I doubt he will go inside the cave,' Ming Ren, his spiritual sense extended, searched for any sign of a beast tamer, suspecting that such a powerful creature wouldn't be left unchecked unless something unusual had occurred. 'I see nothing suspicious,' he thought. 'But what if the beast also went berserk due to what happened before? This is my chance!'

His eyes gleamed with determination as he drew his first-rank sword and charged into the cave, ready to confront the monstrous spirit beast.

*

Within a hidden chamber, shrouded in secrecy, powerful beings reluctantly confined themselves to human-sized forms. The air crackled with unspoken tension as they struggled to contain their true, formidable essences within the cramped space.

"By the Beast Lord, why must we endure these forms?" grumbled a burly man with emerald-green skin, his voice echoing off the walls.

"The room is too small for our true forms," explained a slender man with a long nose and delicate features. "It would be… inconvenient."

The chamber, though seemingly ordinary, held beings of extraordinary origins. Each had adapted their true essence to fit the human-sized environment, creating an undercurrent of restlessness as they balanced their natural power with their current vulnerability.

"Now, now, greenie, this look suits you better," teased a refined woman with shimmering blue scales. "Be grateful it hides your usual ugliness. We certainly are."

The green-skinned man bristled, but before he could retort, another figure intervened, his voice booming with authority. "Enough. The Oracle is here."

A hush fell over the room as all eyes turned to the newcomers. An old woman, dressed in simple attire, exuded an aura of profound respect and authority despite her unassuming appearance. Beside her sat a beautiful woman with vibrant green hair, her demeanor serene yet alert.

"Oracle," they greeted in unison, their voices filled with reverence.

The Oracle, her presence commanding respect despite her simple attire, addressed the assembled beings. "You know why I have summoned you," she stated, her voice resonating with ancient wisdom. "You all felt the mighty roar. The time we have awaited is upon us."

A wave of anticipation and anxiety washed over the room. The blue-scaled lady, her voice laced with frustration, spoke up. "Oracle, we have already tried. That senior will not lead us. He is not the one we have been waiting for." Her scales shimmered with agitation, reflecting her deep investment in their shared mission.

"Indeed," the long-nosed man added with exasperation. "I went there myself, and he refused to see me. I know not what has angered him this time."

The Oracle, unfazed by their concerns, gently corrected them. "You are mistaken," she stated. "I, too, once believed that was our Beast Lord, but I was wrong. The Senior Who Hides in the Woods is not the one we have awaited."

A collective gasp filled the room as the implications of her words sunk in. "That means…" one of them began, their voice trailing off in stunned realization.

"The roar came from a human boy," the Oracle continued, her gaze fixed on some distant point beyond the physical realm. "A weak, feeble boy, yet with a soul so powerful it could obliterate any of us."

"That's impossible!" the burly green-skinned man roared, his disbelief echoing through the chamber. The notion of a human, let alone a weak and feeble one, possessing such immense power defied their understanding of the natural order.

"Silence, you fool!" the long-nosed man snapped, his patience wearing thin. "Do you doubt the Oracle? How dare you!"

The green-skinned man recoiled, his outburst quelled by the sharp rebuke. The blue-scaled lady, unable to contain her amusement, let out a soft giggle at his discomfort. However, her tone turned serious as she addressed the Oracle, her scales shimmering with a mix of curiosity and skepticism.

"A human?" she questioned. "How can a human be our Beast Lord? It is difficult to believe."

"Who am I to question the ways of the Heavens?" the Oracle responded serenely, her words carrying the weight of ancient wisdom. "You have all felt it, as I have – the calling, the resonance within our souls. Our time is nearing its end, our enemies grow stronger. How long until they rise again? It may be in our lifetime, or long after we are gone."

Her gaze swept across the assembled beings, her eyes filled with solemn urgency. "My divinations may not always be clear, but they are always true."

A thoughtful silence fell upon the room as the others absorbed her words, nodding in agreement. The possibility of a human being their next Beast Lord, however improbable it seemed, settled over them with a mixture of awe and acceptance.

"Why a human has been born with a beast soul, I do not know," the Oracle continued. "But if there is even a slight chance he is our Beast Lord, it is our duty to ensure his growth and protection."

"The Oracle is always wise," the long-nosed man affirmed, his earlier frustration replaced by respectful deference.

"One of us should go," the blue-scaled lady suggested, her voice resolute.

"What?" the burly green-skinned man scoffed. "Send one of us to guard a weak human? Have you lost your dignity, you crazy beast?"

The blue-scaled lady chuckled, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "If he truly is our Beast Lord, wouldn't it be an honor? Besides, you've always admired humans, haven't you? Don't you wish to mingle with them again?"

The burly man faltered, a flicker of longing crossing his face. "I still haven't recovered from the last time…"

The blue-scaled lady stifled a laugh as the long-tailed man spoke up, his voice firm. "Beast Lord or not, I only follow the strong," he declared, shaking his head. His stance reflected a common belief among their kind – strength above all else.

A tense silence followed the long-tailed man's declaration, the air thick with the unspoken question of who would take on the responsibility of protecting the potential Beast Lord. It was then that a quiet yet resolute voice broke the silence.

"I will go," spoke the beautiful woman with short, vibrant green hair.

The room erupted in surprise, all eyes turning towards her. The blue-scaled lady, her voice laced with astonishment and admiration, spoke for everyone. "Short Leaf, you...?"

Short Leaf simply nodded, her expression calm yet filled with an unshakable purpose.

"Wona will go," the Oracle confirmed, her gaze resting upon her disciple with a mixture of pride and concern. "The rest of you will resume your duties and watch over our kind."

"Yes, Oracle!" they replied in unison, their voices filled with respect.

With the others gone, the room fell silent once more. The Oracle's eyes met Wona's, her gaze both piercing and compassionate.

"Are you thinking of your sister? Is that why you volunteered?" she inquired softly, her voice carrying a hint of concern.

"My sister is dead," Wona replied, her voice tinged with sorrow and acceptance. "I want to understand what she saw in humans that made her forsake everything."

"Do not harbor hatred towards humans, child," the Oracle cautioned gently. "Everything under the Heavens has a purpose."

Wona nodded solemnly. "I will find the Beast Lord," she vowed. "If he is worthy, he will live. If not…"

The Oracle smiled, a knowing glint in her eyes. "I leave the judgment to you, my child. One way or another, we must be prepared before they rise again."

"We must," Wona echoed, her voice firm with resolve. The weight of their mission, the fate of their kind, rested upon her shoulders.