Chapter 8 – Seeds of Legacy, Shadows of Blood

The corpse of the mutated boar-beast was little more than scorched bone now. Shen Zian stood in the center of the ravine, three corpses at his feet—two of the mercenaries still smoldering from corpse flame, their qi already faded into the void.

The third had fled.

Zian let him.

Not out of mercy—but strategy.

Let the world know: the outcast of the Shen Clan lives. And he's not begging for forgiveness. He's devouring fate.

His breath slowed as he reached out with his senses. The mixture of beast qi inside him now churned with strange rhythm. The flame-aspect, wind-aspect, and earth-aspect cores coiled around each other like serpents in a pit, threatening instability—but the corpse flame held them in check.

It was more than just a death-qi manifestation.

It was becoming his governing flame.

His core was mutating into something that had no name in any known cultivation path.

A voice whispered faintly—one he hadn't heard since the Silent Shrine.

"Walk the path of devouring. Bind the beast. Bury the man."

He clenched his fists.

"No," he whispered. "I'll bind the beast. But I won't bury anything."

He wouldn't let go of who he was.

By dusk, Zian had left the ravine behind, climbing into the craggy forest foothills that bordered the outermost edges of human influence. From here, even the most daring cultivators turned back. Ancient formations, cursed zones, and wild qi storms made the land nearly unlivable.

But that made it perfect for him.

There would be no Heaven Envoys here. No Shen Clan spies. Only beasts. And secrets.

Zian pressed deeper into the forest. His senses, sharper than ever, soon caught a new pulse of qi—strange, rhythmic, steady. Not a beast, but not quite natural either. His corpse flame flickered in response, not in alarm… but in interest.

He followed the pull to a moss-covered clearing where a stone platform sat nestled between two black-rooted trees. Upon it rested a single object:

A jade seed, glowing faintly with inner light.

Zian approached cautiously. As he stepped onto the platform, the qi in the air changed. A ripple of ancient intent pulsed through the ground, like the heartbeat of something long-dead… or long-asleep.

"Legacy Site," Zian muttered.

He'd only ever read of these in the deepest Shen Clan records—remnants of powerful cultivators or beasts who sealed part of their inheritance into objects called seeds. Only those who met the criteria could awaken them.

The jade seed pulsed faster as Zian approached.

When he reached for it, the corpse flame curled protectively over his hand, as if testing the relic.

The moment he touched it, the world tilted.

He was standing on a battlefield.

Corpses of man and beast lay strewn across the soil, their blood soaked into the earth. Above them floated a single figure—his body half-beast, half-man, draped in black robes stitched with fangs. Eyes like stars. A monstrous aura of bone and flame surrounded him.

A deep voice echoed across the field.

"The heavens rejected me. So I carved my name into the bones of beasts."

"I am Bai Juren—the First Beast Sovereign."

Zian's heart stopped.

Bai Juren. The name had been purged from most records. Legend said he once defied ten sects alone, taming ancient beasts and raising the dead. He had walked the line between corpse cultivator and beast master until no one could tell the difference.

He was said to have perished in battle against three Heaven Envoys, dragging all of them into the underworld with him.

"You hold my mark," the vision-Juren said. "You've begun the pact. So now you inherit its burden."

"Devour… or be devoured."

"Remember—each core you claim brings you closer to what I became."

"And closer to what they will try to destroy."

The vision shattered.

Zian stood again in the forest.

The jade seed had vanished—absorbed into his chest. His core burned briefly, then stabilized.

But he felt it.

The Pact had deepened.

He now had access to a technique—etched directly into his bloodline:

Bone Pact Array – First Seal: Beast-Fused Binding

He could now forcibly merge a slain beast's core with a limb or organ—temporarily gaining amplified traits. Not just qi… but raw biological advantage.

He stared at his hands, which pulsed with faint silver lines now—legacy veins, visible only to one who walked the forbidden path.

A smile touched his lips.

He was becoming something ancient.

Something feared.

But far behind him, the man who had fled from the ravine reached a campfire deep in Shen Clan-controlled lands. He fell to his knees before a tall woman in white and blue robes.

Her eyes were cold. Her aura colder.

"You saw him?" she asked.

The man nodded frantically. "He… he has a corpse flame. And beast qi. Three cores—maybe more. I swear it!"

The woman's expression didn't change.

"Then the rumors are true," she said softly.

"The Broken Heir still breathes."

And behind her, from the shadows, stepped Shen Liang.

A cold smirk on his lips.

"Perfect," he whispered. "Then I get to kill him myself."