The Beast That Devours the Sky
The Arrival.
A city stood before him, veiled in mist and drenched in moonlight—a place where destinies unraveled, where legends were born and buried in the same breath. Towering walls, worn by time, whispered the echoes of countless battles. Lanterns flickered in the dusk, their golden glow painting shadows against stone-paved streets.
Zheng Yun stepped through the gates.
The moment he entered, the weight of unseen eyes pressed upon him. Murmurs rose in the alleyways, vendors haggled in low voices, and cultivators stood with wary glances, their hands never straying far from their blades.
Yet none of it concerned him.
His gaze fell upon the towering board at the city's heart—weathered and cracked, yet standing tall, its surface carved with the decrees of the world.
There, among the many requests, one name burned like fire, demanding his attention.
The Wrath of the Monkey King
A beast that had terrorized the land.
A creature said to have slaughtered thousands.
A monster feared by all.
His fingers traced the inked words. The reward was immense, enough to tempt even the strongest of cultivators. But that wasn't why Zheng Yun had come.
He did not seek riches. He sought only to carve his name into eternity.
Without hesitation, he pulled the paper from the board. The moment it left its place, a hush fell over the crowd. Gasps filled the air, followed by laughter—low, mocking, filled with disdain.
"A fool."
"Does he not know? The Monkey King is no mere beast—it is a calamity."
"Another corpse for the pile."
Zheng Yun ignored them.
He had never feared death.
The Hunt Begins
The forest swallowed him whole, its trees looming like silent sentinels. The scent of damp earth clung to the air, mingled with the distant stench of blood. The deeper he ventured, the more the world darkened—the sun struggling to pierce the canopy, shadows slithering across the roots like silent serpents.
Then, the silence shattered.
A growl, low and thunderous, rolled through the trees.
Branches snapped.
The ground trembled.
And from the darkness, it emerged.
The Beast That Could Not Be Slain
The Monkey King.
It was no mere beast—it was a storm given form.
Eyes like molten gold, filled with an intelligence far beyond mortal understanding. Muscles coiled with strength vast enough to shatter mountains. Fur black as the abyss, shimmering with the glow of cursed energy.
It did not wait.
It struck.
A blur—faster than thought, faster than breath. Zheng Yun barely had time to move before the force of impact sent him crashing through trees, his body carving a path of destruction through bark and stone.
Pain bloomed in his ribs, sharp and unforgiving. Blood trickled from his lips. His bones screamed.
Yet still, he rose.
A step forward.
Another.
His breath came in slow, steady streams. His hands, bloodied, clenched into fists.
"To defy fate is to embrace pain."
He surged forward, blade flashing like lightning.
Steel met flesh. Sparks danced in the dark. But the Monkey King did not fall.
Blow after blow, attack after attack—it was relentless. Every strike that should have felled mountains barely left a wound. The beast was a nightmare given life, an immortal force of nature.
And then—
A single misstep.
A single moment of weakness.
The Monkey King's fist slammed into his chest.
The world blurred.
His body was sent soaring through the air, pain lacing through every nerve, until—
Darkness.
The Cave of Fate
He awoke to the scent of damp stone and burning wood. The world was a haze of pain, his body too weak to move. His breath came ragged, shallow, each inhale a battle.
And then—
A voice.
Soft. Gentle. Like the whisper of falling snow.
"You're awake."
Zheng Yun's eyes flickered open.
A girl sat before him, bathed in the golden glow of firelight. Her face was shrouded in shadow, but her presence filled the cave like the quiet hum of a forgotten melody.
She had tied cloth around his wounds. She had saved him.
His first thought was to kill her.
No one helped for free. No kindness came without a price.
His fingers twitched, reaching for his blade—
Agony surged through him, forcing him back onto the cold stone floor.
The girl tilted her head, amusement flickering in her gaze.
"You still wish to fight?"
Zheng Yun gritted his teeth.
She did not understand. To be weak was to be prey. To trust was to invite betrayal.
Yet she did not move.
She did not run.
Instead, she reached for a bowl of herbal paste and lifted it toward him.
"Drink," she said. "Unless you wish to die."
He hesitated.
Then, slowly, he took the bowl.
The liquid was bitter, burning against his tongue, but warmth spread through him—seeping into his veins, dulling the pain that had become his existence.
Silence stretched between them. The crackling fire was the only sound in the night.
Finally, she spoke.
"You fought the Monkey King," she murmured. "And yet, you still live."
He scoffed, voice hoarse. "Barely."
She chuckled, a sound like silver bells. "Then perhaps death does not favor you."
He did not answer.
For the first time in years, he did not know what to say.
The Night That Changed Everything
Outside, the storm raged on.
But within the cave, beneath the flickering light of flames, something shifted.
A meeting not written in the stars.
A moment that should not have existed.
Yet, somehow, it did.
And fate trembled.