The forest engulfed Wang Lin the moment he crossed the treeline.
The air changed first. It became damp and heavy, filled with the sharp scent of crushed leaves and wet earth. The mountain wind faded behind him, replaced by the low rustle of branches and the distant calls of hidden creatures. Light filtered through the canopy in patches, turning the ground into a shifting pattern of shadow and green.
The cry came again.
Closer this time.
Wang Lin stopped.
His instincts screamed at him to turn back. He had no cultivation, no spiritual sense, and no weapon except a chipped flint knife that had never drawn blood. Whatever lay ahead involved spiritual energy. He sensed it now, faint but clear, a pressure that prickled against his skin.
Cultivators.
Or beasts.
Either way, it meant trouble.
He swallowed and forced his feet to move forward.
The path quickly narrowed, branches tugging at his sleeves as he pushed on. Each step felt louder than the last. His heart pounded in his chest, fast and uneven, as if trying to warn him of something he already knew.
You are not strong enough.
The ground sloped downward, and the smell of blood reached him before the sounds did. It was metallic and sharp, cutting through the forest scents like a knife.
Then he heard voices.
"Stop struggling. You've already lost."
A man's voice. Calm. Annoyed.
Another sound followed. A harsh growl, low and furious, ended abruptly with a pained cry that was unmistakably feminine.
Wang Lin crouched behind a thick tree trunk and looked ahead.
The clearing was small, torn open by violence. Several trees bore deep claw marks, and the ground was churned mud and broken grass. In the center stood a man in sect robes, his stance relaxed, one hand resting casually on the hilt of a short blade.
At his feet lay a beast-woman.
She lay on her side, one arm pinned awkwardly beneath her, blood soaking into the earth beneath her shoulder. Her soft brown hair was matted with dirt. A thin tail lay limp behind her, twitching weakly with each shallow breath.
Cow ears.
Small horn nubs barely visible through her hair.
A spirit cow.
Tier One, if Wang Lin remembered correctly.
Standing between her and the man was a spirit hound.
The beast was massive, its black fur slick with blood that wasn't its own. Its eyes glowed a dull red as it growled, teeth bared, body low and ready to spring.
"Enough," the man said, irritation creeping into his voice. "You've already ruined your own value. Do you know how much effort it takes to raise one like you?"
The beast-woman tried to push herself up.
She failed.
Her fingers dug into the dirt, her nails breaking as she dragged herself backward inch by inch. Her eyes were wide, filled with raw terror. She shook her head weakly, her lips moving as if to beg, though no sound emerged.
The man sighed. "Running was pointless. You were property the moment you were born."
Property.
The word hit Wang Lin like a punch.
The man raised his blade.
Something inside Wang Lin snapped.
He did not plan. He did not think. His body moved before his fear could stop it.
A stone flew from the edge of the clearing.
It struck the spirit hound squarely on the side of the head.
The impact was weak. Pathetic. It would not bruise the beast.
But it was enough.
The hound snarled and turned, its eyes locking onto Wang Lin's position.
The man spun around. Surprise flashed across his face, quickly replaced by anger.
"Who's there?"
Wang Lin stepped out from behind the tree.
His legs felt like water. His heart raced painfully. He raised his hands slightly, palms open, as if that might stop what was about to happen.
"She's wounded," Wang Lin said.
The words sounded thin even to him.
The man stared at him, then laughed.
A short, sharp burst of disbelief.
"A mortal?" he said. "No, not even that. An outer disciple?"
His gaze flicked over Wang Lin, sharp and assessing. His lips curled.
"Hollow meridians," he said. "I can smell it on you."
The hound growled again, pacing.
Wang Lin felt cold spread through his limbs. His secret was exposed in a single glance.
"She's not yours to kill," Wang Lin said.
The man tilted his head. "And who are you to decide that?"
"I'm someone who found her first," Wang Lin replied.
It was a lie.
They both knew it.
The man's smile vanished. "Kill him."
The spirit hound lunged.
Time slowed.
Wang Lin saw the beast's jaws open. He saw saliva spray from its fangs. He saw death rushing toward him with terrifying clarity. His body refused to move. His legs locked. His breath caught in his throat.
Then the clearing exploded with motion.
The beast-woman screamed.
Not in fear.
In fury.
She surged forward with a strength that should not have been possible in her wounded state. Her hand closed around the hound's throat, her fingers digging deep as spiritual energy flared wildly around her.
The hound yelped.
She twisted.
There was a sickening crack.
The hound collapsed, its body twitching once before growing still.
The man staggered back, shock on his face.
"You bitch," he snarled, raising his blade.
He never struck.
A sharp whistle sliced through the air.
The man's expression changed instantly. His head snapped toward the edge of the clearing, where faint movements stirred between the trees.
Sect patrol.
He hesitated for half a breath, his eyes darting between Wang Lin and the bleeding beast-woman.
Then he cursed.
"This isn't over," he spat, backing away. "You hear me? Both of you."
He vanished into the forest in a blur of movement.
The clearing fell silent.
Wang Lin's knees buckled.
He dropped to the ground, gasping for breath, hands shaking uncontrollably. Every part of him hurt, as if he had just run for miles.
Across from him, the beast-woman collapsed.
The fury drained from her face, leaving only exhaustion and pain. Her eyes fluttered, struggling to stay open.
Wang Lin crawled toward her.
"Hey," he said softly. "Stay awake."
Her gaze drifted toward him. Confusion flickered in her eyes, mixed with fear and disbelief.
"…You didn't run," she whispered.
"I should have," Wang Lin replied.
He tore strips from his robe and pressed them against her bleeding shoulder, hands clumsy but gentle. Blood soaked through immediately.
Her breathing grew shallow.
The forest around them seemed to close in. Shadows lengthened as the light dimmed.
Wang Lin felt a strange warmth against his chest.
The wooden pendant.
It pulsed faintly, as if alive.
The beast-woman's eyes rolled back.
"No," Wang Lin said, panic rising. "Don't you dare."
Her body went limp.
Wang Lin froze, his heart pounding in his ears.
He did not know if she was alive.
He did not know if he had just doomed himself.
All he knew was that turning back now was no longer an option.