Chapter 8: The Venomous Veil

Huǐ Yuān awoke to the taste of iron and rot. His body felt alien—longer, denser, his scales now a mottled jade-green that shimmered faintly even in the dim cave light. The crystallized energy in his core pulsed rhythmically, a molten emerald lodged beneath his ribs. He stretched, testing his new form, and felt muscles coil like steel cables beneath his skin.

*Stronger. Faster.*

But it wasn't just his body that had changed. The world itself seemed sharper, clearer. Life forces no longer flickered like distant stars—they *burned*. The moss on the cave walls glowed a sickly yellow, the beetles scuttling in the shadows pulsed dull red, and the air hummed with the faint auras of creatures beyond the cave's mouth.

*What am I now?*

He slithered outside, his tongue flicking out to taste the dawn. The forest was quiet, but to Huǐ Yuān, it was a cacophony of light and sound. Every blade of grass, every leaf, every drop of dew radiated life force. Weak, scattered, but *there*.

*Can I… touch it?*

He pressed his snout against a fern, its aura a fragile green. Focusing on the crystallized energy in his core, he willed it outward. A tendril of venomous qi snaked from his scales, seeping into the plant. The fern's life force shuddered, then began to drain into him—slowly, agonizingly slowly—like sap oozing from a wound.

*Too weak. Not enough.*

The fern withered, crumbling to dust. Huǐ Yuān recoiled, but the trickle of energy it provided was undeniable.

*If plants can feed me, what about…*

A beetle crawled across a rotting log, its carapace gleaming iridescent blue. Huǐ Yuān pinned it with his tail, watching its legs flail.

*Let's see.*

He channeled his qi again, this time directing it into the beetle. The creature's aura flared bright before dimming rapidly, its life force siphoned into his core. The energy was minuscule, but faster than the fern.

*I don't need to kill. I can drain.*

The realization sent a thrill through him. He released the beetle, now sluggish and disoriented, and watched it stumble away.

*Efficient. Merciful, even.*

But mercy wouldn't fill his belly.

Hunger gnawed at him, sharper than before. He stalked a mouse nibbling on seeds near a thicket, its life force a flickering orange. As he coiled to strike, frustration boiled over.

*Why bother hunting? Why not just take?*

The crystallized core in his chest flared, and without thinking, he *pushed*.

A wisp of green mist seeped from his scales, curling around the mouse. The creature froze, its tiny eyes widening as the mist touched its fur. Then it collapsed, convulsing, its life force ripped away in seconds.

*What…*

Huǐ Yuān stared at the corpse, then at the dissipating mist. His heart—or whatever passed for a heart now—pounded.

*Again.*

He focused on the crystallized core, channeling its energy outward. The mist billowed from his body, thicker this time, pooling around him like a shroud. It smelled of rot and copper, clinging to the air like a living thing.

*A veil. A weapon.*

A rat scurried through the undergrowth, its life force a steady amber. Huǐ Yuān let the mist creep ahead, tendrils slithering over roots and leaves. The rat froze as the fog touched its tail, sniffing the air—then screamed.

The sound was short, choked. The rat's body spasmed, its aura snuffed out like a candle. Huǐ Yuān approached, his mist parting reverently around him. The rat's eyes were wide, its teeth bared in a final snarl.

*Instant. Painless. Efficient.*

He absorbed its life force, the energy surging into him with violent clarity.

*No more chasing. No more struggling.*

The mist thickened around him, responding to his rage.

*This is power.*

A hawk circled overhead, its life force a searing white beacon. Huǐ Yuān willed the mist to cling to his scales, blending with the dappled forest light. The hawk's gaze swept over him, unseeing.

*Invisible.*

He struck a beetle mid-crawl, draining it dry. The hawk didn't stir.

*I'm not prey anymore.*

The weasel was a streak of crimson energy, darting through the ferns. Huǐ Yuān cornered it near a stream, his mist already coiling around its escape routes.

*Run.*

The weasel lunged, teeth bared, but the mist surged forward, choking its breath. It writhed, claws raking the air, as Huǐ Yuān watched dispassionately.

*Too slow.*

He absorbed its life force mid-struggle, savoring the rush of heat. The weasel's body collapsed, hollowed.

*No more fear.*

By midday, the mist began to falter. Huǐ Yuān's core throbbed, the crystallized energy dimming. He slumped against a tree, his vision swimming.

*Too much. Too fast.*

He'd drained a dozen insects, three mice, and the weasel, but the energy was already fading. His body demanded more.

*Hungry. Always hungry.*

He clawed at the tree, his qi lashing out in desperation. The bark blackened where he touched it, life force trickling into him—too slow, too weak.

*Not enough!*

As night fell, Huǐ Yuān retreated to the cave. His mist lingered at the entrance, a poisonous barrier. He curled around his crystallized core, its light flickering like a dying star.

*I need stronger prey. Larger energy.*

The answer came in a pulse—a familiar, monstrous aura deep within the cave. The entity's life force churned like a hurricane, dark and irresistible.

*No. Not yet.*

But the hunger disagreed.