Fighting A Special Demonic Creature

The main reason for Wu Chen's shock wasn't the ferocity of the demonic creature—it was the intelligence gleaming in its eyes.

Demonic creatures were notorious for their mindless brutality, their actions driven by primal instinct rather than reason.

Yet here it was, a full-fledged demonic beast with a calculating gaze that sent a chill down his spine. Its eyes burned with a predatory cunning, as if it were sizing him up, plotting its next move.

What unsettled Wu Chen even more was how effortlessly he recognized that intelligence.

It wasn't something he had to deduce or analyze—it came to him instinctively, like a seasoned hunter spotting a trap or a gambler sensing a bluff.

He could *feel* the creature's awareness, its malice, as clearly as if it had spoken to him. This unnerving realization made his heart pound even harder.

But the intelligence in its eyes wasn't the only thing that terrified him.

This was no ordinary demonic beast—it was a Mortal Creature Level 1 Master, the pinnacle of its kind. Its speed was blinding, its strength monstrous.

Every movement it made was a blur, and the force behind its attacks was enough to shatter stone.

Wu Chen processed all of this in a split second, his mind racing even as his body braced for the inevitable clash.

Their eyes locked for a fleeting moment, and then, without hesitation, the creature lunged.

It moved like a shadow, its form dissolving into a streak of darkness as it closed the distance between them.

Wu Chen barely managed to twist his body, avoiding a fatal blow, but the creature's claws still grazed his shoulder, deepening the existing wound.

Pain shot through him, but he forced himself to focus. Amidst the chaos, something extraordinary happened.

He began to notice the creature's attack patterns.

This was no small feat!.

Before, Wu Chen couldn't even track the erratic movements of a fly, let alone predict the strikes of a demonic beast.

Yet now, as if guided by some unseen force, he could see the rhythm of its attacks.

The way its muscles tensed before a pounce, the subtle shift in its weight before it struck.

It all became clear to him, like pieces of a puzzle falling into place.

This newfound ability wasn't just luck; it felt like a part of him, as though the system embedded in his mind had awakened something dormant within.

The creature, however, was not amused. It had expected to crush this human in a single blow, yet here he was, still standing after two attacks.

Its frustration turned to rage, and its strikes grew fiercer, each one carrying enough force to obliterate Wu Chen if they landed.

But Wu Chen expected that and was ready.

When the creature darted toward him like a bolt of lightning, he anticipated the move. With a burst of effort, he leapt into the air, narrowly avoiding the attack, and landed gracefully before darting to the side.

The creature's momentum carried it past him, and it skidded to a halt, its growls echoing through the air.

The battle became a deadly dance.

The creature was faster, stronger, and far more durable, but Wu Chen's ability to predict its movements kept him one step ahead.

He dodged and weaved, his body moving almost instinctively, but the strain was beginning to show.

Beads of sweat rolled down his forehead, and his breaths came in ragged gasps. His stamina was fading, and he knew it was only a matter of time before his body gave out.

"If this goes on, I'm dead," Wu Chen thought, his mind racing for a solution.

He had tried striking back, but his blows barely grazed the creature's steel-like fur. Its defenses were as formidable as its offense, leaving him with no way to deal damage. He needed a plan—and fast.

As he scanned his surroundings, his eyes fell on a glint of metal in the distance: a broken spearhead, jagged and rusted but still sharp.

An idea began to form. Wu Chen started luring the creature toward the area, feigning exhaustion and clumsiness. The creature, blinded by its rage, took the bait.

It lunged at him with renewed ferocity, and Wu Chen deliberately stumbled, falling to the ground. The creature saw its chance and pounced, its jaws wide open.

But Wu Chen was ready. In one swift motion, he grabbed the spearhead and thrust it upward, aiming for the creature's eye.

The metal pierced through with a sickening crunch, and the creature let out a deafening roar of pain.

Before it could react, Wu Chen struck again, blinding its other eye. The creature thrashed wildly, its attacks now erratic and unfocused. It was blind, but far from defeated.

Wu Chen rose to his feet, clutching the spearhead tightly. The creature's blindness gave him the advantage he needed.

He waited for the right moment, dodging its frenzied attacks, until he saw an opening.

With all his remaining strength, he plunged the spearhead into the creature's throat, silencing its roars.

The creature writhed in agony, its movements growing weaker until it finally collapsed.

Wu Chen staggered back, wiping the sweat from his brow. "That was too close," he muttered, his body trembling with exhaustion.

But before he could catch his breath, a voice echoed in his mind, cold and mechanical:

[ You have slain a Special Mortal Creature Level 1: Demonic Wolf Master. ]

[ Do you wish to absorb the Special Demonic Core? ]

Wu Chen froze, his eyes widening. The voice was unfamiliar, yet it felt like it had always been there, waiting.

Woah, do I hear and receive this notification after slaying creature. This power is indeed grand, Wu Chen thought, his mind racing. But one phrase stood out: *"Absorb Special Demonic Core?"*.

He knew what a demonic core was—every cultivator did.

It was the essence of a creature's power, a condensed reservoir of energy, much like how food was stored in the stomach. Both demonic and divine creatures possessed cores, though their locations varied.

Some housed them in their chests, others in their skulls or bellies. For humans, the core resided in the chest, the very heart of their cultivation.