The second day in the Deadwood Forest dawned gray and cold. Kamikaze moved through the underbrush with silent efficiency, tracking the movements of a larger beast he had sensed during the night.
His body had already begun to change. The energy he had absorbed from the deadwood wolf had strengthened his muscles and sharpened his senses. It was a crude method of advancement, one that most cultivators would consider dangerous or even heretical, but Kamikaze had no interest in conventional paths.
He paused at the edge of a small clearing, noting the disturbed earth and broken branches. Something large had passed through recently.
A faint smile touched his lips. "Found you."
He circled the clearing, studying the signs. The creature was at least twice the size of the wolf, probably a deadwood bear, a failed spirit beast that had been corrupted by the forest's energy. Such a beast would contain significantly more resentment energy than the wolf.
Kamikaze gathered a handful of sharp stones and began to prepare. He would not be able to overpower such a creature directly, not in his current state. He would need strategy.
By midday, his trap was set. A crude pit covered with branches and leaves, with sharpened stakes at the bottom. Not particularly sophisticated, but it didn't need to be. The true trap was Kamikaze himself.
He cut his palm with a sharp stone, letting blood drip onto the forest floor. The scent would draw the bear to him.
Then he waited, perched in a tree overlooking the clearing.
The bear arrived as the sun began to descend. It was massive, its fur patchy and revealing necrotic flesh beneath. Its eyes glowed with malevolent intelligence as it sniffed the air, following the scent of blood.
Kamikaze remained perfectly still as the creature approached his position. When it was directly beneath his tree, he dropped.
He landed on the bear's back, driving a sharpened stake into the base of its skull. The beast roared in pain and rage, thrashing wildly. Kamikaze held on, driving the stake deeper.
The bear charged blindly through the forest, crashing through underbrush and small trees. Kamikaze guided its movements with precise pressure, steering it toward his prepared pit.
When they reached the edge, he leapt clear. The bear, disoriented and enraged, plunged forward and crashed through the covering, impaling itself on the stakes below.
Kamikaze approached the edge of the pit, looking down at the wounded creature. It was still alive, thrashing weakly against the stakes that pinned it.
"Your strength will become mine," he said quietly.
He descended into the pit and placed both hands on the bear's head. The absorption process was more difficult this time. The resentment energy was denser, more volatile. It burned through his meridians like molten metal, threatening to shatter his nascent cultivation base.
Kamikaze endured, his face showing no sign of the agony he experienced. Hours passed as he methodically drained the creature of its essence, filtering and refining the energy to suit his needs.
By nightfall, the bear was nothing but a hollow shell, and Kamikaze had advanced to the third stage of the Fleshforged Realm.
He climbed out of the pit, his body trembling slightly from the strain. Blood trickled from his nose and the corners of his eyes, signs of the internal damage he had sustained during the absorption process.
"Crude," he murmured, wiping the blood away. "But effective."
He found shelter beneath a hollow tree and sat in meditation, working to stabilize his expanded cultivation base. The resentment energy he had absorbed was still volatile, requiring constant attention to prevent it from damaging his foundations.
As he meditated, Kamikaze reflected on what he had learned from Kai's memories. Graveclan Vale was merely a minor power in this region, one of dozens of similar clans competing for resources and influence. Above them were the sects, which controlled larger territories and possessed greater cultivation resources.
And somewhere, far beyond his current reach, was his brother, the Celestial Emperor who had betrayed him and stripped him of his power.
"The path will be long," Kamikaze whispered to himself. "But I have walked longer paths before."
He opened his eyes, gazing up at the stars visible through gaps in the canopy. Tomorrow would be his final day in the forest. He would need to prepare for his return to the clan, and for the first moves in a game that would span continents and, eventually, worlds.