Chapter 7 - Proof Of Progress

Nightfall cloaks the forest in a suffocating stillness. The only sounds are the distant rustle of leaves and the low hum of unseen creatures. De-Reece stands at the edge of a narrow path, gaze fixed on a cluster of trees where the silver-backed monkeys first appeared. Their red-striped faces and husky markings remain seared into memory—creatures as territorial as they are vicious.

But tonight, waiting is not an option.

The creature at De-Reece's side moves in silence, a shadow with glowing violet eyes. It mirrors every stance, its movements fluid and deliberate, as though absorbing the essence of Phantom Shadow Steps without a word exchanged. It isn't just following—it's learning.

Fingers tighten around the hilt of the sword, the weight a familiar comfort. Domineering Demon Swordplay remains untested in real combat, but hesitation invites death. A thin thread of Qi trickles through leg meridians, energy buzzing just beneath the skin. Each step is silent, form shifting and flowing with an unpredictable rhythm as he advances.

The search doesn't last long.

A soft growl echoes from the trees ahead—then a flash of movement. A silver-backed monkey drops from a branch, its crimson-striped face twisted into a snarl. More follow, their numbers swelling in moments until half a dozen beasts form a loose circle around De-Reece and his companion.

The lead monkey bares its teeth, a guttural hiss filling the air. De-Reece remains still.

With a sharp exhale, movement begins.

Footwork blurs—a seamless fusion of Phantom Shadow Steps and domineering slashes, each action fuelled by the urgency clawing at his chest. Every step, every strike, is more than a display of skill—it's a declaration of intent, a drive to carve a path forward, to grow strong enough to find his brothers and face whatever waits beyond this forest. The foundation of Heavenly Demon Swordplay pulses beneath each motion, but the shift is undeniable—this is his swordplay now, moulded by his hands and sharpened by purpose. The blade carves a ruthless arc, severing the closest monkey's arm in a single fluid motion. It shrieks, but before it can react further, De-Reece vanishes, reappearing behind another as the sword thrusts forward, skewering the creature's chest. Blood sprays, dark and hot against the cool night air.

The rush comes almost immediately. As the monkey's life fades, a thin thread of energy surges into De-Reece—subtle, yet undeniable. Just like before—each kill, each death, feeds him, the energy trickling into Qi reserves like a stream flowing into a larger river. A dark, unspoken rule of this world—strength can be taken, devoured, from the fallen.

The monkeys respond in kind—darting with alarming speed, claws flashing. De-Reece sidesteps, footwork a chaotic dance, every movement flowing like water yet striking like a hammer. The sword doesn't follow a pattern—it bends to will, adapting to the frenzy of battle.

A flash of black fur shoots past. The creature lunges at one of the monkeys, jaws snapping with brutal efficiency. Where De-Reece's attacks are calculated, the beast fights with savage grace—tearing into foes without hesitation. And yet, its movements align with his, shifting whenever he does, maintaining the unbroken flow of combat.

A monkey breaks from the circle, screeching as it bolts into the underbrush.

Panic flares in De-Reece's chest. If it escapes, the others will know his location—secrecy, advantage, lost.

Qi floods into his legs as Phantom Shadow Steps push to the limit. Form blurs, then reappears in front of the fleeing beast. A vicious swing of the sword cleaves through its neck. The monkey collapses mid-sprint, a lifeless heap on the forest floor.

Another pulse of energy slithers into De-Reece, a small but satisfying addition to reserves. Not enough to break through a meridian, but the gradual accumulation of strength is undeniable.

Breathing hard, eyes scan the area. The remaining monkeys are either dead or too injured to move.

The blade is wiped clean, heart still pounding from the adrenaline—but beneath that, a simmering sense of pride. Domineering Demon Swordplay is no longer just a concept—it's a weapon, forged from the Heavenly Demon's foundation but sharpened by De-Reece's own hands.

And the creature…

It pads back to his side, blood staining its fangs, but violet eyes remain steady—fixed not on the corpses, but on De-Reece himself. It moved like him, fought like him.

"You're picking up bad habits," he mutters.

The beast merely flicks its tail, unbothered.

The battle is over—but the path ahead is only just beginning.

The forest darkens as De-Reece moves deeper into the monkeys' territory. The air thickens with an acrid scent—dried blood, rotting leaves, and the pungent musk of beasts marking their domain. Clawed-up trees stand as silent warnings, their bark shredded into jagged strips. Bones, both animal and humanoid, litter the underbrush.

Hesitation holds no place here. This isn't just about testing strength—it's about dominance. If civilization is to be found, if true strength is to be reached, every obstacle must be crushed.

The creature pads beside him, black fur rippling with each smooth step. Violet eyes gleam in the gloom, ever watchful, ever silent.

A crude clearing opens ahead—gnarled roots twisting out of the ground like claws, forming a natural arena. The stench intensifies. At the center, a hulking figure looms.

The boss monkey.

Twice the size of the others, its fur a matted silver-black with streaks of crimson along its face. A jagged scar splits one eye, fangs glisten with old blood. Two smaller monkeys flank it—lieutenants, their wary but aggressive posture marking them as enforcers.

Fingers brush the formation flags tucked into his belt. The preparations are set.

In a blur of movement, the flags flick outward, Qi pulsing as they embed into the ground in a rough triangle. The moment the last flag strikes soil, the formation activates—a Mirage Formation. The air ripples like water, De-Reece's figure splitting into five illusory copies that mirror every move.

The boss monkey roars, the sound shaking the trees.

The two lieutenants leap forward, but De-Reece is already in motion. Phantom Shadow Steps weave through the illusions, form flickering as attacks pass harmlessly through his mirrored copies. The sword lashes out—a brutal slash aimed at the closest lieutenant.

Blood sprays as the blade carves across its side, but it isn't enough to kill. The creature shrieks, spinning with surprising agility, claws raking through one of the illusions. Another flicker—De-Reece appears behind it, sword thrusting forward, this time skewering its heart.

The moment life leaves its body, a pulse of Qi surges into De-Reece—less than expected, but still noticeable. Energy swirls, greedily absorbing the essence left behind by the slain creature.

One down.

The boss monkey doesn't idle. With terrifying speed, it closes the distance, a massive clawed hand swiping at De-Reece's head.

A desperate dodge—too slow.

Pain blooms across De-Reece's shoulder as the claws tear through his robes, blood soaking the fabric. Teeth grit against the pain, he falls back, his free hand flicking a second formation flag into the air.

A sharp pulse of Qi—

The offensive formation bursts to life, a web of glowing lines trapping the remaining lieutenant. The monkey thrashes, darting from side to side in a desperate attempt to break free, claws raking against the glowing barriers. Spears of energy shoot up from the ground, but the beast twists, narrowly avoiding the first volley. De-Reece's jaw tightens—this one is faster, more cunning than its fallen companion. More Qi flows into the formation, adjusting its flow, forcing the spears to strike in unpredictable patterns. The monkey lets out a furious screech, movements growing frantic. Finally, a spear impales its leg, pinning it in place. Another follows—then another—until the last strike pierces through its chest, ending its struggle with a final, echoing shriek.

As the lieutenant's life slips away, another rush of Qi flows into De-Reece—stronger this time, more potent. His meridians flare with the sudden influx, muscles tightening as his body greedily absorbs the energy. The difference in strength between the two underlings is clear.

Only the boss remains.

A howl of fury reverberates through the clearing as the boss slams its fists into the ground with enough force to crack the earth. The formation trembles but holds. De-Reece's heart pounds—this array cannot be allowed to shatter.

Footwork flows between Phantom Shadow Steps and unpredictable movements—slipping, twisting, striking with the ruthless precision of Domineering Demon Swordplay. The sword becomes an extension of his will—slashing in wide arcs, darting in with quick, merciless thrusts.

Then, the boss monkey feints.

A lunge, but not toward De-Reece—its clawed hand shoots past his defense, aiming for an unprotected side.

Realization dawns too late.

A blur of black fur.

The creature launches itself at the boss monkey, sinking its fangs into the beast's arm. A roar of pain splits the air as the monkey's free hand glows faintly, Qi gathering around its claws before raking viciously across the creature's side, sending it sprawling. The blow should break bone, but the black-furred beast scrambles back to its feet almost instantly, baring bloodied fangs. The distraction, though costly, provides the opening De-Reece needs.

Qi floods his legs—

Phantom Shadow Steps.

A flicker—then he reappears behind the boss. A flash of silver in the night.

With a brutal swing, the boss monkey's arm is cleaved off, a spray of blood misting the air. An ear-splitting roar erupts, its remaining hand crackling with a faint shimmer of Qi as it lashes out in wild fury. A desperate twist—too slow. Claws rake across De-Reece's side, a sickening crunch echoing as pain flares through his ribs. Staggering back, he grits his teeth, blood trickling down his torso. The boss monkey's wounds bleed freely, its breath ragged, yet the Qi in its strikes sharpens—each attack more precise, fueled by desperation.

De-Reece's reserves are dangerously low. The constant drain from maintaining formations and battling the lieutenants has left his Qi flickering like a dying flame. This must end now.

The creature at his side senses the shift, a low growl vibrating in its chest. Then, a blur of motion—black fur darting forward with movements eerily familiar. Recognition flickers in De-Reece's gaze—Phantom Shadow Steps. The creature mimics him.

Weaving in and out of reach, biting at the boss's legs, retreating, striking again with almost surgical precision. The beast bellows in rage, Qi condensing around its claws in a final, desperate strike. One blow connects—the small creature is flung across the clearing, slamming into a tree with a dull thud. A sharp pang of alarm clenches in De-Reece's chest, but he forces the distraction aside.

Something sharpens within him—focus becoming a blade of its own. Every ounce of remaining Qi channels into his legs. Phantom Shadow Steps—something shifts. Not one shadow, but two mirror his form.

Low, medium mastery.

Surging forward, twin shadows flanking, the wounded beast's bloodshot eyes dart between flickering figures. It cannot keep up. In a flash, De-Reece closes the distance—his sword a streak of silver in the moonlight.

Steel cleaves through the boss monkey's neck. The severed head tumbles to the ground with a sickening thud, blood spraying in violent arcs. The beast's body shudders once—twice—before collapsing like a felled tree. A savage pulse of Qi erupts from the dying creature, striking De-Reece like a wave of fire. His meridians flare, core roaring in response, greedily devouring the untamed energy. Vision blurs, the intensity almost unbearable—but he forces it into submission, claiming the wild strength of his fallen foe.

Silence.

The creature limps back to his side, blood staining its muzzle. No whimper, no hesitation—violet eyes steady, watching.

For a moment, they stare at each other.

A rare smile flickers across De-Reece's lips. "You really do pick up bad habits."

A flick of its tail.

The boss is dead, lieutenants slain. Their lair, open to be claimed—or plundered.

This is just another step—one carved by De-Reece's own hand, with the blood of his enemies marking the way forward.

The night hangs thick with silence, broken only by the faint rustling of leaves as De-Reece approaches the mouth of the cave where the boss monkey had stood guard. The entrance yawns open like a gaping maw in the rock face, partially hidden by overgrown vines and the lingering scent of decay. Blood still slicks his sword, crimson droplets falling in whispered rhythms against the stone floor as he steps inside.

The black-furred beast follows close behind, moving like a shadow, its violet eyes gleaming in the dim shafts of moonlight filtering through cracks in the rock. Despite the wound at its side and the limp in its stride, the creature refuses to lag behind.

Each step forward thickens the air. The mingling stench of unwashed fur and rotting meat clings to the walls, but another scent lingers beneath—something faintly sweet, an aroma that tugs at the senses. Fingers tighten around the hilt of his sword as De-Reece moves past piles of bones, discarded fur, and the torn remnants of past victims. But beyond the remnants of carnage, something else draws his attention.

Against the back wall of the cave, a crude nest of dried grass and leaves sits surrounded by an array of objects—possessions hoarded by the slain king of the monkeys. Unlike the withered herbs and half-eaten fruits left at the cave's entrance, likely scraps offered to the alchemist, these items gleam with vitality.

Clusters of glowing herbs, their leaves shimmering with latent Qi, lie piled beside fruits exuding quiet power. Yet among them, a single treasure stands above the rest.

At the heart of the hoard, resting atop a bed of withered grass, sits a dark, blood-red fruit. Its skin pulses faintly, as though a heartbeat thrums beneath its surface.

A slow breath escapes as De-Reece kneels before it, fingers hovering just above the fruit's surface. The alchemic tome's teachings murmur at the edges of his mind—this is no ordinary fruit. Condensed vitality, untamed Qi, raw potential waiting to be harnessed. A Bloodshade Fruit. The mere thought of consuming it recklessly sends a shiver of caution down his spine. A fool's gamble could turn its power into poison. But if refined correctly, if transmuted into a pill, the potential strength it could offer is immeasurable.

His gaze darkens.

The boss monkey had hoarded the best for itself, reigning over its subordinates while tossing scraps to the alchemist. A selfish king gorging on power while lesser creatures starved.

De-Reece wastes no time gathering the most potent herbs and fruits, his mind already piecing together possible formulas. Refining the Bloodshade Fruit will require expertise beyond his current reach—time he cannot afford to waste. But the body-tempering pills? Those he can improve. Perhaps, with the right combination, even the foundation for a weak bloodline pill could begin to take shape.

The violet-eyed beast watches with silent curiosity, head tilting slightly as De-Reece inspects each herb, mentally cataloging their properties. Despite its injuries, the creature does not rest. It prowls near the entrance, gaze flickering toward the forest beyond as though sensing unseen dangers.

With the last of the herbs secured within his pouch, De-Reece rises. Pain lances through his ribs—broken but mending. The raw Qi he had stolen from the boss monkey still courses through his veins, keeping his body upright. Every kill has made him stronger. The lieutenants had been formidable, their Qi potent, but the boss monkey's essence had nearly overwhelmed him.

Brutal. Primal. The purest form of survival.

Take from others. Grow stronger.

"Let's go," he mutters. The beast flicks its tail once before falling into step beside him.

Under the pale glow of the moon, the trek back to the Heavenly Demon's cultivation cave is spent in silent contemplation. Stronger pills. Refined techniques. A path forward carved by his own hands.

The Bloodshade Fruit pulses within his pouch—a quiet promise of future power.

The familiar stillness of the Heavenly Demon's cultivation cave greets De-Reece like a silent guardian. Shadows stretch across the stone walls, and the faint pulse of ancient formations hums beneath his feet, reinforcing the sanctuary. He moves with purpose, setting the gathered herbs and fruits onto a stone table near his alchemic tools.

But first, a more pressing matter demands attention.

The raw Qi absorbed from the boss monkey still churns within him—a violent storm barely contained. There is no time for slow cultivation. He must break through.

Crossing his legs atop the cold stone floor, he places his sword at his side and focuses inward. The energy surges through his meridians, pressing against the blockade of his spleen node. A vital step in his cultivation path lies before him.

Directing the swirling Qi, he grits his teeth as agony sears through his core. Like forcing a boulder through a narrow gap—excruciating, unrelenting.

Then—A snap.

The spleen node bursts open, and power floods through his body like an unchained beast. This is different from his past breakthroughs—this Qi does not merely enhance him. It awakens something deeper, something feral. Instinct sharpens. Muscles coil with newfound responsiveness. Blood roars through his veins like liquid fire.

His breath is ragged. The world sharpens, colors richer, sounds crisper. His body feels forged anew.

Yet, there is no time to revel in the sensation.

Gaze shifting to the gathered herbs, he sets to work. Each ingredient is sorted, ground, and blended with methodical precision. Hours blur together as he refines the body-tempering pills, pushing their potency beyond previous attempts.

At last, the results of his effort sit before him—two sets of pills. One batch consists of advanced body-tempering pills, their Qi more concentrated than before. The second, a pair of low-level patterned bloodline spiritual pills—the first true step toward something greater.

The Bloodshade Fruit remains untouched. Its power demands more time, more knowledge. It is not yet time.

With the two bloodline pills resting in his palm, De-Reece studies them for a moment before placing one before the beast.

"Here," his voice is measured, quiet. "Let's see what this does for you."

A sharp burst of Qi flares from the small creature the moment the pill slides down its throat. Black fur bristles, each strand standing rigid as crackling arcs of energy race through its body. Violet eyes ignite with an unnatural glow, a low, guttural growl rumbling from deep within as its core struggles to contain the sudden surge. Then, as abruptly as the transformation began, the beast's limbs buckle, its form sagging into unconsciousness, breath steady yet charged with untamed power still simmering beneath the surface.

De-Reece watches in silence, a flicker of satisfaction tightening his grip on control.

One of the advanced body-tempering pills follows, dissolving on his tongue, releasing a refined, concentrated force that spreads through every fiber of his being. Meridians strain under the rush, an ache threading through them, yet they hold, absorbing the storm until the energy settles, embedding itself deep within his core.

Then comes the spiritual-patterned bloodline pill.

The instant the potent substance touches his tongue, something primal unfurls. This is no mere surge of Qi—it is deeper, older. His blood churns as though recognising an ancient call, veins pulsing in an unfamiliar rhythm, awakening something buried far beneath layers of consciousness. A resonance builds, distant yet insistent, whispering of untapped potential.

And then—

A pulse.

The pendant resting against his chest throbs once—twice—each beat syncing with his own. Eyes snap open, lungs tightening as his bloodline stirs, no longer content with dormancy. A shift uncoils within, raw and unrestrained. This inheritance is not a quiet thing. It does not settle. It does not wait. It demands to be acknowledged, clawing through his very essence with the hunger of something vast and boundless.

A rumble breaks the silence.

Solar stirs.

Once lean and nimble, the beast now towers, a form no longer merely wolfish but something more. Limbs stretch with newfound power, a deeper presence lurking beneath sinew and fur. But the true change lies in the third eye—an ominous violet glow embedded at the center of its forehead, pulsating with quiet, unreadable intelligence.

The realization slams into De-Reece like a hammer against stone.

Solar is mirroring him.

Movements, emotions, energy—the connection between them deepens beyond logic, beyond simple companionship. It is as if the creature stands at the edge of something greater, evolving in tandem, feeding off the very essence of his transformation.

Yet, even as the surge of power settles into his being, loneliness seeps into the cracks. This cave, this wilderness—it is not home. Not anymore.

The pendant hums against his skin. Memories sharpen in his mind—fragments of faces, laughter echoing from a past that feels both near and impossibly distant. His brothers. Their fates remain unknown, but the ache of separation grows unbearable.

This solitude cannot last.

It is time.

The decision lands with finality, a weight dropping into place, immovable and certain. The sanctuary of the Heavenly Demon's cultivation cave has served its purpose. It was never meant to be a resting place—only a forge, refining what was once raw into something tempered and sharp.

Preparation is swift and deliberate. Herbs and fruits from the boss monkey's hoard vanish into his pouch, the Bloodshade Fruit nestled carefully among them. Alchemic tools are wrapped with precision, every item secured. Though the cave will remain, its presence must be concealed. Fingers trace the ancient runes along the walls, Qi weaving into the formations, reinforcing the concealment. Should he ever return, it will be waiting. Silent. Hidden.

As the final seal flickers and fades, De-Reece steps beyond the threshold, cool air whispering against his skin. The night still clings to the horizon, the last remnants of shadow stretching over the land. Solar follows, three violet eyes glowing softly in the dimness, an unspoken presence at his side.

Movement through the wilds begins in silence. Each step forward carries a certainty that was absent before. The energy of an opened spleen node hums beneath his skin, enhancing every motion, refining his physicality. The lingering power of the bloodline pill coils deeper, a force both patient and insatiable.

Hours pass, terrain shifting from dense woodland to jagged outcroppings of stone. Solar moves in perfect sync, its presence no longer separate, but woven into the rhythm of his own. When De-Reece slows, so does the beast. When tension creeps into his frame, sensing something unseen, fur bristles in response. Their bond is no longer one of convenience—it is something instinctual, something written into the very essence of their existence.

The sun dips lower. Hunger gnaws at the edges of focus. Without warning, Solar vanishes in a blur of black fur and flickering violet light. Moments later, the beast returns, two limp ware rabbits clutched between razor-sharp teeth.

A smirk pulls at De-Reece's lips.

A fire crackles to life soon after, filling the air with the scent of roasting meat. In the flickering glow, he studies Solar. The third eye gleams faintly, intelligence lurking behind its violet depths. This is no ordinary creature. It is something… unbound. Limitless. Expanding like the cosmos itself.

"Solar," he murmurs, the name slipping from his lips as though it has always belonged to the beast. A whisper cast into the void. A tether binding two fates together.

The creature tilts its head. Silence stretches. Then, a low, approving growl rumbles through the night air.

By late afternoon, the endless sprawl of wilderness begins to break. Trees give way to rolling hills, winding dirt paths carving through the land—signs of human presence.

A pulse of anticipation thrums through De-Reece's chest.

And then, he sees it.

Nestled at the base of a distant hill, a small village sprawls in quiet defiance of the wilds. Smoke curls lazily from thatched rooftops, a stark contrast to the untamed land that surrounds it.

It is not a city. It is not the grand civilisation he once knew.

But it is the first step.

A flicker of wariness tempers the moment. Civilisation means answers, but it also means danger. Paths that stretch forward may lead to knowledge—or to something far worse.

Straps tighten around his pouch. Fingers graze the hilt of the sword at his side. Solar lets out a low, rumbling sound, the third eye pulsing softly in the fading light as if sensing the shift in the air.

"Hide it," De-Reece orders, gaze fixed on the distant village. "We don't know how they'll react."

As if understanding, Solar blinks once. Twice.

The glow vanishes beneath a veil of fur.

The first step toward civilisation begins.