Chapter 30 - Spoils

The Komodo dragon's corpse lay sprawled across the forest floor, its once-powerful frame now motionless beneath the fading twilight. Its essence had already been claimed—as with every beast he felled, the qi had surged into him the moment he struck the final blow, reinforcing his body, feeding his foundation.

But there was still more to take.

De-Reece ran a hand along the dragon's scaled hide, feeling the lingering heat of its body even in death. He knew that the flesh of powerful creatures still carried residual qi. If he consumed it, he could refine his body further.

A true predator wastes nothing.

The weight of the Komodo dragon's corpse was immense, but De-Reece bore it without complaint. His body, strengthened by battle, moved with measured control as he dragged the carcass through the forest, his mind focused on one goal—returning to the cave.

Solar padded beside him, her powerful form shadowing his movements, silent but watchful. The heart she had devoured still worked through her veins, refining her already potent qi. They had won, but the battle was only the first step.

By the time the mouth of the cave came into view, the sky had dimmed into deep shades of purple and navy. The quiet sanctuary welcomed him like an old friend.

De-Reece exhaled, shifting his grip before hauling the Komodo dragon's corpse over the threshold.

The cave had long since become more than just a hiding place. It was his crucible, his domain.

As soon as they were inside, De wasted no time.

With practiced efficiency, he began carving into the beast, stripping away its valuable parts.

Scales—strong, nearly impenetrable. If reforged properly, they could create armor or weapon reinforcements.Fangs & Claws—razor-sharp, containing faint traces of its lifeblood's qi. Potential materials for crafting.Meat—potent, infused with raw strength. Refining it would fortify his body further.Organs – alchemy ingredients

Solar watched as he stacked and organized his spoils, her eyes gleaming with a quiet intensity.

With every cut, he claimed more than just resources—he claimed dominance.

This was the essence of a cultivator. To kill, to refine, to grow.

De carved thick slabs of the dragon's meat, skewering them before lighting a controlled flame at the center of the cave.

The fire crackled, its glow flickering against the ancient stone walls, casting their silhouettes in long, twisting shadows.

As the meat sizzled, an intense, almost electric aroma filled the space.

De-Reece tore into it without hesitation.

The moment the first bite slid down his throat, his qi roared to life.

Heat flooded his limbs, his meridians vibrating as the latent energy from the beast's flesh integrated into his body.

He could feel it—raw, untamed power.

Every bite sent waves of reinforcement through his already tempered muscles. This wasn't just food—it was fuel.

Solar took her own portion, biting into it with steady control.

For a while, there was only the sound of crackling fire, the steady tearing of meat, and the deep silence of the cave.

They had both survived.

Now, they would grow stronger.

De sat cross-legged near the fire, allowing the residual qi from the Komodo dragon's essence to settle into his meridians.

He could feel it moving, coiling along his pathways, reinforcing his foundation.

His seventh node—the one in his right hand—throbbed, on the verge of breaking open. With enough time and refinement, he could push through.

But he didn't rush.

Stability was key.

A reckless breakthrough could leave behind hidden flaws.

Instead, he let the essence flow naturally, strengthening each part of his body.

The pulsing warmth eventually mellowed into a steady hum beneath his skin, like an ember waiting to be fanned into flame.

He exhaled slowly.

One step at a time.

De's fingers traced the Komodo dragon's scales, his mind already forming a plan.

Armor? A reinforced vest?Weapon enhancements? The sword could be tempered with these scales.Alchemy? There were properties in this beast's flesh he had yet to fully explore.

Solar flicked an ear, watching him with an unreadable gaze.

She had grown too.

Her presence was stronger, her qi richer.

They weren't just surviving anymore.

They were evolving.

De-Reece closed his eyes.

He would rest tonight.

Tomorrow, he would begin the next phase of his training.

Darkness settles over the mountains, the cool night air thick with the lingering scent of blood and charred flesh. Within the cave, flickering embers from a dying fire cast long shadows against the rock walls, illuminating De-Reece's still form.

The aftermath of the Komodo Dragon battle weighs heavy on his body. Deep bruises, torn flesh, and fractured ribs protest every breath, but he refuses to waste this moment. Pain is fleeting. Strength is permanent. Sitting cross-legged, he steadies his breathing, forcing the lingering Komodo Dragon essence coursing through his veins to settle. Every kill refines him, tempers him, makes him sharper.

Solar rests nearby, golden-violet eyes half-lidded, her once-heavy wounds fully mended thanks to the bloodline evolution fuelled by the pill. Now stronger, larger, a predator in her own right, she watches silently as De-Reece pushes himself further into the depths of refinement.

Tonight, there is no need for reckless breakthroughs. This is about control. Precision. Mastery.

The weight of Cheon Ma Sin Gun's blade feels natural in his grip, the dark metal humming as if remembering the hands of its original wielder. Footsteps glide across the cavern floor, slow at first, then faster, testing stability, testing movement. The air around him shivers as qi weaves through his veins, flowing to the edge of his sword like a tide-seeking shore.

The Domineering Demon Fist Style has always been his foundation—feral, unrelenting, overwhelming. But the sword? The sword demands a different kind of control. Each strike must be clean, precise, and absolute.

He moves.

The cave erupts with motion. A step—Shadow Phantom Steps—too fast, almost vanishing. A downward slash wreathed in lightning, the blade cleaving through the air as arcs of energy scorch the stone beneath him. Follow through. Pivot. Reverse grip.

Again. Faster. Sharper. Stronger.

Each motion deepens his understanding of the sword. Not just a weapon. Not just an extension of himself. But a force. A presence.

The second time the blade swings, it cuts through the lingering embers of the fire, splitting the flame in two—an omen of what is to come.