Chapter 2 – The Core That Should Not Be

Pain woke Shen Zian.

But it was a different kind of pain—alive, pulsing, powerful. His body was still weak, but something had changed. The gnawing emptiness where his dantian had been was no longer void. Something burned in its place—raw, primal, untamed.

He sat up slowly, wincing. The mutated Flame-Tusk Panther's corpse lay beside him, its body already cooling. But its beast core… it had entered him. He could feel it—an orb of molten heat coiled in his center, not in the traditional dantian but deeper, fused with his very life force.

"This… this isn't normal," he murmured, pressing his hand to his abdomen.

He closed his eyes, focusing inward. Where there should have been only broken fragments of a shattered dantian, now pulsed a crimson sphere wrapped in flickering black flames. It wasn't human. It didn't obey the usual meridian flow. But it radiated qi. Beast qi.

And somehow… it was alive.

Zian reached for it instinctively.

A flood of information surged into his mind—visions of the panther's life, instincts of battle, memories of slaughter, of feeding, of survival. The beast's soul had not perished—it had merged with the core, and now, with him.

He gasped and pulled back.

"What in the heavens…?"

This wasn't cultivation. It was something else. Something forbidden.

His hand trembled. In the ancient scrolls he had once studied, there had been mentions—barely more than myths—of humans fusing with beast cores. It was considered impossible. The difference in qi nature alone would cause instant rejection or death.

And yet, here he sat.

Alive.

Stronger.

His gaze fell on the panther's body. Though it was lifeless, something about it still made his heart stir. As if their connection hadn't fully severed.

"Was it fate… or desperation?" he whispered. "Why did you give me your core?"

The wind didn't answer.

Zian forced himself to stand. His legs ached, but his balance was steadier than before. The beast core pulsed with heat in his gut, radiating strength. A primitive, wild strength—but strength nonetheless.

He lifted his hand and focused on the sensation. Qi responded—slowly, haltingly—but it moved. It obeyed.

Tears stung his eyes.

He wasn't crippled. Not anymore.

Not quite human. Not quite beast. But something new.

He clenched his fists. "They called me trash. Said I was nothing. But I'll make them eat their words."

The trees rustled, and his instincts flared.

Something was watching him.

He turned—just in time to see a figure step from the shadows.

A man. Clad in ragged robes. His face half-hidden beneath a hood. But his presence was suffocating—like standing beneath a storm cloud full of lightning.

"Interesting," the stranger said, voice gravelly. "A shattered dantian… fused with a beast core. And yet, you live."

Zian took a cautious step back. "Who are you?"

The man didn't answer. Instead, he tossed a bone talisman to the ground between them. It spun once before settling, glowing faintly with dark runes.

"A gift," the man said. "You'll need it."

Zian narrowed his eyes. "Why help me?"

"I don't help," the man said, turning. "I test. Survive the next three nights, and maybe you'll earn my name."

And just like that, he vanished into the trees.

Zian rushed to the edge of the glade, but there was no trace. No qi signature. No footprints. Just wind and silence.

He looked down at the talisman. Its carvings pulsed with eerie black light—corpse qi. He recognized it from the scrolls in the Shen Clan's forbidden archives.

"Corpse energy," he whispered. "Taboo even among the wicked."

And yet, the talisman felt… right. Like a piece of a puzzle he hadn't known he was missing.

He picked it up, and a jolt of cold spread through his fingers—shocking, but not painful. A second qi stirred within him now, not just the flame of the beast core, but a whisper of something darker. Something dead… but not powerless.

What am I becoming?

That night, Zian found shelter beneath a hollow tree. As he sat cross-legged, holding the talisman in one hand and the beast core's qi in the other, he began to meditate.

He would survive.

He would adapt.

He would return.

And next time, he wouldn't just be the heir of the Shen Clan.

He would be something the clans had never seen before.

Something they feared.