The Eagle Mission Hall was a towering structure shaped like a talon gripping a crystal sphere. Streams of glowing light flowed through the crystal, representing the hundreds of missions available to outer disciples. Each color symbolized a difficulty level—white for beginner, green for intermediate, and red for dangerous. As Yun stepped inside, he could feel the air thrum with energy and ambition. Dozens of disciples crowded around the mission boards, some boasting about their previous hunts, others quietly strategizing over team formations. Yun, however, moved with calm purpose. He wasn't here to prove anything to others—only to himself.
He approached the beginner board first, scanning through the list of tasks. Most were errands: gathering herbs, escorting shipments, or scouting nearby valleys. But one mission caught his eye—a Beast Subjugation request in the Scarlet Ravine. Reports mentioned an enraged Ironhide Serpent disrupting the local spirit veins, attacking farmers and spirit gatherers alike. The mission's danger level was white-gold, marked just shy of intermediate. "Perfect," Yun murmured, a faint smile crossing his lips. "Enough to test my new skill, but not too much to draw attention."
After confirming his selection through the crystal sphere, a talisman imprinted itself with the mission details and his identity token. The clerk, a middle-aged cultivator with keen eyes, gave him a nod. "You're brave to take a beast mission alone," he remarked. Yun only offered a respectful bow in return. "Experience is worth more than fear," he said simply. With that, he turned and walked out the hall.
Yun knew this well. Though death cannot claim humanity in the same way it does beasts, life itself carried a crueler risk. Beasts, ever-evolving and hungry for power, had discovered how to refine humans into living spirit pills. Once swallowed, the victim's spiritual power would be drained, their core shattered, and their mind shattered into fragments of madness. They would be spat out soon after—alive, but hollow, stripped of reason and identity. A fate far worse than death. Even immortality had its horrors, and for cultivators, becoming a beast's vessel of hunger was the greatest of them all.
At dawn, Yun stood before the gates of the Eagle Mountain Clan, the morning mist curling around the stone statues of soaring eagles. Before setting off, he made his way to the Treasure Hall within The Nest, where countless shelves shimmered with weapons, talismans, and mystical artifacts. The hall buzzed faintly with spiritual energy, each relic humming as if alive. Yun carefully browsed through rows of weapons—blades, staves, and swords of all types—but his gaze locked upon something most would overlook: a scythe resting in the far corner, its edge dull yet oddly radiant under the lantern light.
He couldn't explain the pull he felt toward it. The moment his fingers brushed the cold metal, a strange familiarity stirred within him—a whisper from somewhere deep in his soul. The attendant blinked in confusion but said nothing. To most, the scythe was a farmer's tool, unfit for combat or prestige. But when a cultivator at Half Step Core Formation made a purchase, no one dared to question. Yun bought the scythe along with a few talismans, an emergency healing pill, and a small pouch of elemental powder. As he fastened the scythe across his back and stepped into the rising sun, he felt something awaken inside him—silent, patient, and waiting to be remembered.
As Yun made his way down the mountain path toward Scarlet Ravine, the air grew warmer, carrying the scent of wildflowers and the distant tang of raw spiritual energy. Along the way, he encountered a small group of younger disciples from the Eagle Mountain Clan, their robes crisp, their eyes bright with determination. The moment they sensed his aura and noticed the LL Rank 13 floating faintly above his name token, their steps faltered, and they bowed respectfully. "Senior," one of them greeted, his voice tinged with awe. Even at this distance, they could feel the strength emanating from him, the quiet authority that came from both talent and cultivation.
The group explained their purpose: they were on a mission of their own, tasked with gathering rare herbs deep within the Scarlet Ravine, ingredients for a breakthrough pill said to aid one's spiritual core. Recognizing the dangers ahead, they nervously asked if they might accompany him. Yun nodded warmly, a small smile tugging at his lips. "You may travel with me," he said. "Once I complete my mission, I will help you locate your herbs. Stick close, learn what you can, and we will make sure no harm comes to you." Relief washed over the younger disciples as they fell into step beside him, unaware that their senior was already far beyond most cultivators of his age and stage.
As they approached the outskirts of Scarlet Ravine, the terrain grew rugged, and the spiritual energy thickened like mist over the land. The rocks were jagged, and the faint hum of the earth beneath their feet pulsed with raw power. Yun's senses sharpened; even without opening his eyes fully, he could detect faint disturbances—small beasts lurking, the echoes of residual spiritual energy, and the occasional hint of something far larger moving deeper within the ravine. The younger disciples stumbled over rocks and roots, but Yun walked steadily, his instincts guiding him like a compass.
"Stay close," he instructed quietly, his hand brushing the hilt of his scythe. Though it had the shape of a farmer's tool, it hummed faintly with energy that matched his own. The disciples quickened their pace, aware of the silent authority in his voice. Yun already felt the edge of the mission pressing against him: the Ironhide Serpent that had been terrorizing the ravine was near, and he would need to test his new techniques in combat for the first time outside the controlled environment of The Nest. He allowed himself a brief moment of anticipation—this would be the first real measure of his skill, the first step in proving that his path would not merely follow tradition, but rewrite it.
As they crossed the towering blue oak, Albi slowed his steps and said cautiously, "We've just left the portion of the ravine under Eagle Mountain jurisdiction. From here on, it's imperial land… meaning anything can happen. Even cultivators from other clans wander these parts, and beasts here don't obey the same laws as those tamed within our borders. We must be careful. And remember—no harm to non-cultivators unless it's absolutely necessary."
Yun glanced back at the group, noting their steady yet nervous expressions. The moment they passed the blue oak's shimmering roots, the air thickened—warmer, denser, and laced with an invisible pressure that pressed against the skin. The spiritual energy of the land shifted from calm to turbulent, humming with unseen life. "Understood," Yun said, his gaze narrowing toward the mist ahead. "Stay close, and don't act unless you must."
The group moved in silence now, every step measured. The further they went, the thicker the air became, saturated with killing intent so potent it pressed down on their very souls. The sound of shifting gravel and the faint rustle of leaves seemed to echo endlessly through the ravine's walls. Even without seeing it, they could feel the serpent's presence—a suffocating, ancient aura that clung to the land like a curse.
Yun's gaze sharpened as he reached out with his spiritual sense. What he found was unsettling. The creature's aura wasn't merely hostile—it was intelligent, aware. It pulsed like a heartbeat, as if the serpent was deliberately warning intruders away. "Stay calm," Yun murmured, raising a hand to halt the group. "We're close. Don't release your spiritual power unless absolutely necessary. It can sense that more clearly than sound." The others nodded, their faces pale, eyes darting toward the faint shimmer of movement deep in the crimson mist ahead.
Yun's eyes caught a glimmer of movement between two jagged stones. A ripple of scales—vast, silver-black, glinting with faint light—coiled like liquid metal through the shadows. His breath steadied. "Stay where you are," he ordered softly, his voice carrying a calm authority that silenced the others instantly. "If I fail, you run. Do not look back." Before any of them could protest, Yun stepped forward, his hands forming the subtle motionless seal. Feathers of spiritual flame burst from his back—sleek, blazing wings of scarlet and gold. The Eagle Blade Wing Technique took form, not the fusion art he'd crafted, but its pure, unaltered version. The ground cracked beneath his feet as he lifted into the air, eyes locked on the serpent's coiled form.
The serpent turned its massive head toward him, slitted eyes gleaming like molten jade. The pressure of its aura made the air waver, warping light itself. Yun drew in a deep breath and dashed forward, his wings slicing the air with explosive speed. The serpent lunged upward, jaws wide, venom dripping in hissing streams. Yun's first strike was a sweeping arc of burning feathers, deflecting its bite and showering sparks through the ravine.
The battle erupted like a storm. Each time Yun dove, the serpent countered with bursts of compressed wind, its tail lashing hard enough to shatter stone. He weaved between strikes, his wings flashing like twin blades of light, cutting at its scales but barely leaving marks. The clash of speed and force tore the ravine's stillness apart—rocks split, trees ignited, and the very ground trembled. Yun's spiritual energy flared brighter with each exchange, the young cultivators below watching in awe and terror as their senior fought a monster that could crush mountains.