theways

In a world where power ruled and trust was a blade waiting to strike, Lu Yan walked alone. Not out of fear, not out of weakness, but because solitude had always been his greatest strength. As a plant summoner, the earth itself bowed to him. Forests obeyed his whispers, roots coiled at his command, and even the wildest of flora bent to his will. There was no need for allies—until he met them.

Fan Zhi. Lila. Jian Mo.

The strongest of the strong. A warrior whose blade could cleave mountains, a magician who wove destruction with a flick of her fingers, and his most trusted—his shadow—Jian Mo. Not a friend, not family, but the one person Lu Yan had allowed closest.

Their strength was undeniable. Their presence, unavoidable.

And so, for the first time, Lu Yan walked beside others. Together, they ventured into the final dungeon, an ancient ruin pulsing with power long lost to time. Every step deeper tested their skill, their will, their loyalty. They bled together, fought together, survived together. Or so he thought.

The betrayal wasn’t reckless. It wasn’t obvious. It was precise, patient—rooted in greed, waiting for the perfect moment to surface.

Every look, every word, every shared battle had been a thread in their web. They had studied him, learned the way he thought, anticipated his every move. They knew his strengths, but more importantly, they knew the weaknesses even he had overlooked.

So when the final trial came, when the dungeon itself trembled with the weight of the power they had sought, the trap was already set.

The air was thick with heat, the walls licked with molten fury, the ground unstable beneath their feet. And then, Jian Mo struck first.

A blade—not of steel, but of something darker, something ancient—sank into Lu Yan’s back. A paralyzing force surged through him, seizing control of his body, locking his power away in an instant. The one person he had trusted most had known exactly how to sever him from his strength.

Fan Zhi’s sword followed, slicing deep. Lila’s magic wrapped around him like a serpent, binding him in chains of searing energy.

They had calculated every detail. No dramatic speeches, no arrogance—just cold, efficient betrayal.

And then, without hesitation, they cast him into the abyss.

The last thing he thought about was Jian Mo’s face, expression unreadable as the molten depths swallowed him whole.

Pain.

Fire that melted flesh, burned bone, and tore through his very essence.

For the first time, Lu Yan truly knew what it meant to die.

But fate was not done with him.

In the heart of the inferno, something stirred. A force beyond comprehension. A power that did not belong to this world. The fire did not destroy him—it remade him.

The pain became something else.

Something worse.

Something greater.

Then, darkness.

When Lu Yan awoke, it was not to fire, nor stone, nor the ruins of the dungeon.

It was to a world reborn.

The sky above him was a fractured canvas of impossible colors, shifting and writhing like a living thing. The air was thick, charged with an energy that thrummed beneath his skin. And all around him, the earth pulsed—not as he had once commanded it, but as something wild, untamed, ancient beyond reason.

The plants here were not mere tools of a summoner’s will. They were alive in ways he had never imagined. And they watched him.

He was no longer the betrayed summoner.

He was something else.

Something far greater.

As he stood amidst the endless forest, his body still echoing with the power that had saved him, one thought burned brighter than all the rest:

if fate brought me here I would master it all. 

The winds whispered his name. The trees bent, waiting.

The Life begins with a seed 


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(Hello Author here, I'm open for any suggestions)

Forest Cultivator

A pulse tore through his body. Deep, raw, undeniable.

[Level 5 → Level 6]

For a moment, everything else ceased to exist. His bones hummed with power, his muscles coiled with newfound strength. The forest around him felt different—no, it responded differently. The trees, the wind, even the air itself, they all seemed to shift in recognition.

The earth beneath his feet tightened, as if testing his balance. The power of the world coursed through him like a raging river, forcing him to adapt or be swallowed whole. His breath was sharp, controlled, his mind a blade honed to its edge.

This was evolution. This was power.

Lu Yan exhaled slowly, his fingers curling into a fist. He had ascended.

The wind carried something to him—movement. A tremor, distant but growing. Not just one. Many.

Beyond the gnarled treeline, where the land dipped into a mist-veiled valley, something stirred. Predators.

Their presence rippled through the earth, through the air—Moonshade Beasts. Not one. A pack.

The sky above them seemed darker, as if the night itself bent to their presence. Their eyes gleamed through the fog—shards of cold silver, shifting, calculating. Their movements were silent, their bodies built for the kill.

Lu Yan didn't move. Not yet. His stance was firm, his breath steady. He watched as the beasts prowled forward, their black fur shimmering like liquid shadow. Their muscles tensed beneath their skin, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

A blur of motion. Claws flashing, fangs bared. Fast.

Lu Yan shifted. His body moved before thought, a force of instinct and precision. His blade was already unsheathed, its cold steel catching the moonlight for the briefest second—before it carved through flesh.

A strangled snarl. Blood sprayed against the dirt. The beast collapsed mid-motion, its silver eyes dimming as its body hit the ground.

Teeth, claws, raw feral hunger. Ten. No—fifteen. Shadows converging, their howls splitting through the night.

The moment before impact stretched, silent and absolute.

chapter 32 “The Hunt Part 2”