Chapter 26 - A new Enemy?

The forest carries an unnatural stillness, the late afternoon sun casting long streaks of gold through the dense canopy. De moves carefully through the undergrowth, his steps light, his senses sharpened. Something lingers in the air—an unfamiliar qi signature, subtle but undeniable, brushing against the edges of his awareness.

He had sensed it earlier, just beyond the usual boundaries of the wilds, a presence that doesn't belong.

Leaving Solar behind in the cave to recover, he circles the area first, his movements careful, deliberate. If someone is hunting, he refuses to lead them back to his only refuge. Only when he is certain of the safest route does he step into the open, choosing his ground away from the cave entrance.

And sure enough, as he emerges from the treeline, a figure waits for him.

The man stands with casual ease, his posture relaxed but measured. Reinforced leather armor clings to a wiry but powerful frame, a long hunting blade strapped to his back. Sharp features carry the hardened edge of a survivor—someone who has faced death and walked away, again and again.

Cold, assessing eyes track De's approach.

"You alone out here, kid?" the man asks, his voice rough but not immediately hostile.

De keeps his expression unreadable. "Who's asking?"

A smirk tugs at the man's lips. "No need to get jumpy. Name's Garrik. Bounty hunter." His gaze flickers over De, noting the faint remnants of blood on his sleeves, the subtle weariness in his stance. "I'm looking for someone. Heard a rogue cultivator passed through this area—body tempering or maybe early qi refining. Nasty piece of work. You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?"

De doesn't answer right away, weighing his options. If Garrik is after the rogue, then there's a bounty on the man's head. It also means this hunter has been tracking him for a while.

And yet, De has seen his kind before—mercenaries, bounty hunters, killers-for-hire. Some hunt because they are paid. Others hunt because they enjoy it.

"I might," De says finally, voice measured. "Depends on why you're looking for him."

Garrik chuckles, folding his arms. "Straight to business. I like that." His expression darkens slightly. "A small sect hired me to track him down. Turns out he pissed off the wrong people, killed a disciple, stole something he shouldn't have." His gaze sharpens. "If he's dead, I need proof."

De studies him carefully. The words hold truth, but bounty hunters are rarely honest about their full intentions. Still, if the rogue was being hunted, turning over the body could bring him both information and resources—two things he sorely needs.

"I can bring the body," De says at last. "Wait here."

One brow lifts slightly, but Garrik doesn't object. Instead, he leans against a tree, rolling his shoulders. "Take your time."

De doesn't respond, slipping back into the dense undergrowth. He makes sure not to head directly toward the cave, circling wide, his movements controlled. Only when he is certain he hasn't been followed does he turn toward his hidden refuge.

Inside, the cave remains undisturbed. The formations hold. Solar lies curled in the far corner, her breathing steadier but still unconscious. He brushes his fingers lightly through her fur, feeling the warmth of life still lingering beneath the surface.

She will wake.

She has to.

For now, his focus shifts to the dead man lying at the back of the cave. De grips the rogue cultivator's arms, hoisting the body with a grunt. His muscles burn with the effort, his qi still weak, but he pushes forward.

Each step through the forest is calculated, his trail covered carefully, his presence concealed as best he can manage.

By the time he emerges from the trees, Garrik remains where he left him, watching with mild curiosity.

De lets the corpse drop unceremoniously at his feet.

Garrik whistles low, crouching beside the body. He inspects it with a trained eye, fingers brushing over the fatal wounds. "Damn. You did a real number on him."

De doesn't react.

From his coat, Garrik pulls an engraved medallion, pressing it against the corpse's skin. A faint shimmer of qi ripples outward before fading, confirming the man's identity.

"Well, I'll be damned," Garrik mutters, shaking his head. Reaching into his pouch, he pulls out a small coin purse and tosses it toward De. "Half of what I'll be getting for this. Fair cut."

De catches it smoothly, feeling the weight. He doesn't bother opening it. "That it?"

Garrik studies him for a moment, then smirks. "You're cautious. Smart. I respect that."

From his coat, he retrieves something else—a small, flat bronze token. "Guild marker," he says, flipping it between his fingers before holding it out. "Take this to any bounty hall if you ever need work. Or a favor."

De hesitates before accepting it. He doesn't plan on relying on anyone, but having options is never a bad thing.

With practiced ease, Garrik slings the corpse over his shoulder. "You did good, kid. Maybe we'll cross paths again."

Without another word, he vanishes into the trees.

De stands in silence, the coin purse and token in hand, watching the spot where Garrik disappeared. The bounty hunter was skilled. Efficient. A glimpse of the kind of people he will encounter beyond the forest.

This world keeps growing larger.

And so does the weight of the path ahead.

As the last traces of Garrik's presence fade, the forest settles into eerie quiet. De exhales slowly, rolling the bounty token between his fingers. Its weight isn't heavy—but it carries meaning. Another connection. Another option.

But options are rarely safe.

With a final glance at the darkening sky, he pockets the token and turns back toward the cave. His body aches, his qi reserves still recovering from the past battles. He has earned a moment to breathe, but the world will not wait for him to recover.

Moving quickly, he ensures no trace is left behind before slipping back toward the cave's entrance. His formations have held, but Garrik's presence is a reminder—trained eyes can spot weaknesses.

He needs to reinforce them.

Inside, the cave is cool, the scent of crushed herbs still lingering from his earlier alchemy. Solar lies unmoving, but her breathing is stronger, her fur regaining its faint violet sheen. He kneels beside her, brushing his fingers lightly along her mane.

The bond pulses faintly—no words, no connection, but still there.

"You're recovering," he murmurs, more to himself than to her. He exhales. "Just take your time."

Even with his victories, uncertainty presses down like an iron weight. The rogue cultivator is dead. The pill had worked. But there are still too many unanswered questions.

And then there is the bounty hunter's presence.

He is not the only hunter in these forests.

Others will come. Cultivators seeking power, rogue disciples, mercenaries. This world does not allow the weak to rest.

And his brothers…

His fingers tighten.

The Sect Selection in three months is his best chance. If they were thrown into this world with him, they would seek strength. They would seek answers.

They would be there.

And if they aren't?

Then he will carve his own path forward.

Steeling himself, he turns to the cave entrance, beginning the process of strengthening the formations. His old carvings had been rushed, amateur work compared to what he is capable of now.

His fingers trace the stone, qi-infused strokes weaving concealment glyphs and barrier runes. The patterns gleam faintly before settling, veins of power woven into the rock.

By the time he finishes, sweat clings to his skin, but the cave is safer. Hidden.

For now.

Only after ensuring the defences hold does he allow himself to rest.

Tomorrow, his training truly begins.

Refine his body. His seventh node is open, but unstable. He must strengthen it, push himself further.Gather resources. His stock is nearly depleted. Without alchemical materials, his progress will stall.Sharpen his combat ability. He survived the rogue cultivator—but survival is not enough. He needs to dominate.

Tomorrow, he starts forging the strength he will need.

Not just to survive.

But to win.