The cave was quiet, filled only with the soft breaths of slumbering creatures.
Wei Long lay curled within the dark recess of his ho, his body coiled with the ease of a predator at rest. He was thinking of the first human he killed earlier, but as a soldier, he had to.
There are other Disciples out there to use and interrogate, and he didn't need that eerie looking fella that died unexpectedly earlier.
Suddenly, Wei Long knitted his brow.
Sothing wasn't right.
He heard it.
A sound.
He did.
He is sure.
Faint, almost imperceptible.
It wasn't the chirping of a cricket, nor the distant cries of a hunting beast. It was sothing distinct.
Voices.
Wei Long's golden eyes snapped open.
For a brief mont, he remained still, his highly evolved bio-engineered senses stretched outward. His nostrils flared as he sniffed the air, but the scent was weak, carried on the breeze from beyond the cave's entrance.
He tilted his head.
Are they here already? The new disciples of the Autumn Dragon Sect?
Slowly, he unfurled his body, his tail dragging lightly against the damp earth as he rose. The creatures in the holes he had dug within the cave walls—his captives—remained undisturbed, their tiny chests rising and falling with the rhythmic breath of unconsciousness.
Without making a sound, Wei Long slithered toward the entrance, his powerful form moving with an eerie grace.
The mont he stepped beyond the cave's mouth, his Bio-engineered Camouflage Ability activated, seamlessly blending him into the green forest trees.
Then, he moved.
Slipping through the foliage like a ghost.
Moving toward the voices.
As he neared, the sounds beca clearer—two voices, both human.
And they were not friendly.
"Are you seriously suggesting an alliance? You, of all people?"
The first voice carried a tone of disbelief, edged with barely concealed suspicion. The speaker was a young man, his breath slightly uneven, as though the conversation had already reached a tense point before Wei Long had arrived.
"Think about it logically. You and I both know how impossible it is to hunt enough beasts to be accepted as an inner Disciple on our own."
The second voice was smooth, persuasive. Calculated.
Wei Long settled himself into a position where he could watch them without being noticed.
The two disciples stood in a small clearing, their robes bearing the unmistakable emblem of the Autumn Dragon Sect.
The moonlight filtering through the trees cast long, jagged shadows across their faces, highlighting the tension between them.
The first disciple, the one who had spoken with suspicion, crossed his arms, his brows furrowed deeply. His grip on his sword hilt was tight, though he hadn't yet drawn the blade.
"You're only saying that because you know you won't be able to et the requirents alone," he said, his tone dark. "You want to use . Once you get what you need, you'll stab in the back."
The second disciple let out a short, almost amused breath.
"You wound , truly. Is that what you think of ? A scher?"
He took a slow step forward, his hands clasped loosely behind his back. His smile was thin, sharp.
"I'm talking about mutual benefit. You see, alone, we're both struggling. The beasts in this area aren't weak, and with how many new disciples there are this year, we both know that our chances of standing out are slim if we don't work together."
His voice was velvety, oozing with persuasion, but beneath it, Wei Long could hear sothing else.
Sothing off.
"If we form an alliance, we can split the kills, ensure our survival, and eliminate anyone else who tries to outdo us. Think about it—the inner Disciple position isn't just about strength. It's about power. It's about knowing how to play the ga."
Wei Long's eyes narrowed slightly.
So the sect values hunting? The stronger their prey, the greater their standing?
Interesting.
He thought they were here to hunt beasts and ta them, he didn't expect that they could hunt too.
But the first disciple was unmoved.
His eyes hardened, his grip on his sword tightening even further.
"I don't believe you for a second."
His words were firm, his jaw set.
"You're not proposing an alliance because you care about us both succeeding. You just want sothing from . And I know exactly what that sothing is."
A pause.
Wei Long could hear the shift in the atmosphere between them.
The second disciple's smile faltered just slightly.
Then, in a voice that was almost too calm, he spoke.
"…Oh?"
The first disciple exhaled sharply, shaking his head.
"Don't play dumb. You're after my taming cultivation thod, aren't you?"
The second disciple didn't move.
But sothing in his eyes changed.
"Taming cultivation thod?"
Wei Long's golden eyes widened slightly.
Cultivation thod? What is that?
Was it sothing unique?
Was it sothing that let humans ta beasts?
If so—was it the reason that humans earlier had been able to understand his words?
Wei Long's curiosity was piqued.
I need to hear more.
The second disciple, however, did not seem pleased.
His once friendly, smooth expression darkened.
Just slightly.
But it was enough.
"…So that's what you think of , then."
His voice was quieter now, more asured.
More dangerous.
Wei Long felt a shift in the air.
A shift in intent.
The second disciple took a slow step forward.
Then another.
And another.
His posture had changed.
No longer was he relaxed, casual.
Now, it was predatory.
And his voice, when he finally spoke again, was low and sharp, dripping with malice.
"…I suppose that ans you're not willing to cooperate, then."
He tilted his head slightly, his gaze never leaving the other disciple's face.
His fingers twitched at his side.
And his next words—
Were not a question.
"That's… unfortunate."
Wei Long did not blink.
Did not move.
But a slow, knowing grin stretched across his reptilian face.
He could tell.
He knew.
The fight—was about to begin.
Wei Long's instincts were razor-sharp.
As soon as the two disciples drew their swords, he knew—this was not going to be a simple spar. It was a battle.
The young man who had been trying to persuade the other—the one in dark robes—brought his sword up to his lips.
Then, he licked it.
Wei Long's golden eyes narrowed slightly in amusent. What's that supposed to do? Intimidate?
But then, the man whistled.
A sharp, high-pitched sound that sliced through the air.
Sothing rustled.
Wei Long's gaze snapped toward the source of the movent.
From the underbrush, it erged.
A creature, unlike anything Wei Long had seen before.
A twisted fusion of insect and plant—a monstrous hybrid.
Its body was covered in thick, green, spiky plates, resembling the rough texture of a cactus. Its legs were thin yet sturdy, covered in thorny bristles, and its large, multifaceted eyes glead under the moonlight.
Wei Long's gaze flicked toward its information.
Level 4 Mortal Beast: Cactuna.
The na alone sent a prickle of interest through him.
The young man in dark robes smirked as he raised his sword.
"Let's see how fast you can run."
And then—
The hunt began.
The Cactuna moved first.
With a sharp, clicking sound, its body trembled—then exploded in a hail of needle-like thorns.
The air whistled as they shot forward in rapid succession, aid directly at the young man in grey robes.
He reacted instantly.
His feet dug into the dirt, and with a sharp pivot, he leaped sideways, twisting his body to evade the deadly barrage.
The thorns buried themselves into the ground, piercing deep into the earth like miniature spears.
Wei Long, still hidden with his Bio-engineered Camouflage, watched with growing amusent.
Not bad. He's quick.
But the dark-robed disciple was already in motion.
He lunged forward, sword glinting under the sunlight, and with another whistle, the Cactuna launched itself forward.
The young man in grey barely had ti to react.
The insect-like beast scuttled across the terrain with frightening speed, its thorn-covered legs ripping through grass and dirt as it pursued him relentlessly.
With a flick of its body, it released another wave of razor-sharp thorns.
The young man dodged—barely.
One of the thorns sliced his cheek, drawing a thin line of blood.
He gritted his teeth, pushing himself faster.
He weaved through the trees, his movents precise, his breathing controlled—but the dark-robed disciple and his beast refused to let up.
Every few steps, another barrage of thorns rained down.
Wei Long moved silently through the foliage, following the chase with curiosity.
His massive feet, built for stealth, made no sound against the soft earth. His muscles were coiled with effortless power, his senses absorbing every movent, every shift in energy.
But he did not interfere.
He rely watched.
The young man in dark robes let out a sharp laugh, his voice carrying through the forest.
"You think running will save you? I already know how this will end."
His tone was light, mocking—yet there was a sinister tone beneath it.
The young man in grey didn't answer. He was too focused on moving, on surviving.
But the dark-robed disciple kept speaking.
"Even if your Taming Cultivation thod is the highest tier, it's worthless if you can't ta a beast in ti. You're a fool to think you could survive this without my help."
Another whistle.
Another wave of thorns.
The young man in grey twisted his body, narrowly dodging—but he was slowing down.
His breath was becoming uneven, his dodges slightly less precise.
And the dark-robed disciple knew it.
"Just hand it over, and I might let you live."
His words slithered through the air, slick with confidence.
"Your so-called 'great' thod—what good is it now? If you had just joined earlier, this wouldn't have to end like this."
His smirk widened as he saw his prey struggling.
"Just surrender already."
Wei Long's interest peaked.
He had seen this before.
But he ouldn't quite rember.
The young man in grey suddenly did sothing unexpected.
Instead of continuing to flee, he planted his foot firmly into the ground and twisted his body—spinning back toward his pursuer.
The dark-robed disciple's eyes widened slightly in surprise—just a fraction of a second too slow to react.
And in that instant—
A blade flashed.
The young man in grey's sword plunged forward.
A clean, swift movent.
A deadly, precise strike—
Straight through the dark-robed disciple's chest.
Silence.
The forest seed to beco still.
The dark-robed disciple's smirk vanished.
His breath hitched, a sharp, choking sound escaping his lips.
His eyes, wide with shock, flickered down toward the sword embedded in his body.
The young man in grey panted, his grip firm on the hilt.
His voice, cold and steady, broke the silence.
"…You talk too much."
Wei Long's hidden form blinked.
Then, slowly, his head tilted.
That's it?
But he—from the way the dark-robed disciple had acted, Wei Long had assud he would at least put up a decent fight.
Instead, he folded like wet paper.
"Truly disappointing," Wei Long muttered under his breath.
His voice was low, but sharp.
And yet—
Sothing unexpected happened.
The dark-robed disciple suddenly laughed.
A quiet, rattling chuckle.
Wei Long's amusent faltered.
His golden eyes narrowed slightly, watching with interest as the dying man's lips curved upward.
The sound was weak, but there was sothing unsettling about it.
And then—It happened.
His body changed.
A dark, greenish energy spread across his skin, coating him like a layer of living armor.
His flesh hardened, twisted, pulsed.
Wei Long's gaze sharpened.
The transformation was rapid, unnatural.
And the young man in grey—the one who had just landed what should have been a fatal blow—
Took a long step backward.
His expression shifted.
From satisfaction—To fear.
And in the shadows, Wei Long grinned.
Now, this is getting interesting.
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