The shadow fell over the tips of my shoes, but I didn't move. I kept my breathing low, and my heartbeat slowed with it. That fishy stench drew closer, mixed with the scent of grass and trees—not strong, but unceasing. I kept my eyes closed, my palm pressed against the stone, feeling the faint tremors in the ground.
The system trembled softly, and a line appeared in my sea of consciousness:
High-level lifeform detected. Spirit pressure level: early third tier.
I didn't open my eyes. The third tier was no small matter. In the primordial wilderness, ordinary beasts were only first tier; only those that had awakened intelligence could enter the second tier. The one before me had already surpassed the realm of common wild creatures. It stopped in front of me, its breathing steady and unhurried, as though it were observing me.
I slowly opened my eyes.
It stood five paces away, silver-white from head to toe. It resembled a deer, but its body was leaner and longer than that of an ordinary deer. Its four hooves made no sound against the ground, not even pressing the moss down by half an inch. Antlers sprouted from its head, three-pronged like intertwined jade branches, glimmering faintly. Its eyes were blue-green, clear to the bottom. There was no ferocity in them, nor fear—only a quiet gaze fixed on me.
It didn't move, and neither did I.
The stream still flowed, and the birds still called. But the air had changed, taut as a fully drawn bowstring. I could feel its aura spreading outward in circles, like wind, yet not wind. Every ripple made my meridians tingle faintly.
This thing could control spiritual energy.
I came to a conclusion. It could survive in a place rich with spiritual energy and even influence its surroundings. It was no ordinary spirit beast. If I could subdue it, then with it guarding me while I cultivated in the future, at least I wouldn't be easily disturbed by others.
Once that thought arose, I couldn't suppress it.
I slowly raised my right hand, gathering spiritual energy at my fingertips. My cultivation during this period hadn't been for nothing; the qi in my dantian was far denser than before. I didn't dare use any forceful techniques. I merely formed a Spirit Binding Rope in secret, thin as a strand of hair, transparent and colorless, silently sliding across the ground.
The instant the spiritual energy left my hand, its ears twitched.
It tilted its head, its gaze landing on my hand. My heart tightened. Before I could react, it let out a soft cry. The sound wasn't loud, yet it made my eardrums ache. The faint vortex of wind around its body suddenly accelerated, spinning like an invisible wheel.
Snap!
The Spirit Binding Rope broke into several pieces in midair, shattering into specks of light that vanished into the air.
Before I could withdraw my hand, my chest took a hit. It wasn't something solid, but a pale blue current of air blasted from its mouth at incredible speed. I barely twisted aside, avoiding a direct hit, but my shoulder was still grazed.
My whole body slid three steps backward. My heel struck a rock, my knee buckled, and I nearly dropped to my knees. Heat rose in my throat, but I gritted my teeth and swallowed it back, bracing myself against the ground to steady my body.
It didn't pursue.
It remained where it was, those blue-green eyes fixed on me. It showed no intention of attacking, but neither did it leave. It was as if it were waiting to see what I would do next.
I took a breath and touched my shoulder. My clothes had been torn open, and the flesh beneath burned with pain. That attack hadn't been heavy, but it had been fast. I had been extremely careful when I made my move, causing almost no fluctuations, yet it had sensed me in an instant and counterattacked without giving me any chance.
This wasn't something brute force could handle.
I slowly straightened up, letting both hands hang at my sides and no longer gathering spiritual energy. Seeing that I had stopped moving, it finally turned away. Its front hooves tapped lightly against the ground, and its body leaped into the forest. Its movements were nimble, leaving no trace when it landed. In the blink of an eye, it disappeared into the mist.
A faint fragrance lingered in the air, like grass after rain, or perhaps some kind of floral dew.
I remained still. After waiting several breaths and confirming that it had truly left, I slowly returned to the large stone and sat down. The qi in my dantian was somewhat chaotic. Though that blow hadn't injured my foundation, the shockwave had struck directly into my meridians. I closed my eyes and regulated my breathing, little by little guiding the scattered qi back.
The system stayed quiet for a while before another line suddenly appeared:
The target possesses rudimentary intelligence. Its behavioral pattern matches the characteristics of a wind-element juvenile. Further contact is advised to avoid initiating attacks.
I opened my eyes and stared at that line for a long time.
So it wasn't even fully grown yet. A juvenile could already counter my Spirit Binding Rope. If it grew larger, wouldn't it be even harder to deal with? Besides, it had clearly been able to keep attacking me just now, yet it hadn't. That soft cry had been more of a warning than a killing move.
It didn't want trouble.
But I had attacked first.
I lowered my head and looked at my palm. My fingertips still felt numb from the collapse of spiritual energy. The state I had worked so hard to regain through cultivation had been ruined by this reckless attempt. I thought I had steadied myself, but I was still too impatient. The first thing I did upon seeing a spirit beast wasn't retreat—it was trying to catch it. Just like when I had been eager to break through before, always thinking that becoming stronger just a little faster would be enough.
And what did that get me?
Once again, I had lost to the word "fast."
I reached into my robes and took out a jade slip, opening it to the first page. Three rules were written there: first, do not crave speed; second, do not act rashly; third, always reflect on oneself.
I had written those words last night. The ink hadn't even faded yet.
I placed the jade slip on my knees and reached for the spent spirit stone against my chest. It was cool, pressed against my skin all this time. It reminded me where I had gone wrong last time, and now this stone had become another lesson.
I took it out and placed it beside the jade slip.
One represented the failures of the past; the other, the recklessness of the present.
I closed my eyes and began regulating my breathing again. This time, I wasn't in a hurry to circulate my qi through a full cycle. I only wanted to expel the lingering stagnation from my body. The wound on my shoulder throbbed faintly, tugging with every breath. But I endured it and ignored the pain.
Time passed little by little. The sun rose overhead, and light filtered through the leaves, casting mottled shadows across the ground. The sound of the stream remained clear, while the occasional chirp of insects drifted in from afar.
I opened my eyes and looked toward the direction in which it had vanished.
There were only layers of tree shadows there, and the mist had yet to disperse.
I picked up the jade slip and turned to the last blank page. Taking up my brush and dipping it in a little water, I wrote two words: "Spirit beast."
Then I wrote another line beneath it: "Fast, intelligent, dislikes ambushes."
After writing that, I thought for a moment and added another sentence: "Must not be taken by force."
The brush paused. On the final line, I wrote: "Ask the system how to communicate?"
My sea of consciousness fell silent for a while.
The system replied:
Question type: Primordial wilderness ecological knowledge. Activate quiz mode? Correct answer reward: fragment of the Beginner Spirit Beast Taming Guide. Incorrect answer penalty: spiritual energy circulation efficiency reduced by 20% for one hour.
I tightened my grip around the brush and stared at the words.
A one-hour reduction in efficiency meant I wouldn't be able to cultivate properly. But if I didn't learn now, then the next time I encountered it, I might not merely be blasted back a few steps.
I took a deep breath and said inwardly, Activate.
The question immediately appeared:
Which of the following methods is most suitable for establishing initial contact with an untamed spirit beast? A. Suppress it with force and display one's strength B. Feed it spiritual food while maintaining distance C. Form a direct contract and bind a soul mark D. Shout loudly and declare one's territory
I stared at the four options, replaying the scene from earlier in my mind. It had blocked my attack, yet it hadn't fled far. It had only left after warning me. That meant it was wary, but not eager to fight. A creature like this couldn't be subdued through force.
A wouldn't work. D was even more foolish. Did I really think shouting a few times would make it acknowledge me as its master? Dream on.
C was too aggressive. A soul-mark contract was no trivial matter. The slightest resistance could cause backlash, and at my current level, I might end up getting myself killed.
That only left B.
I chose B.
My sea of consciousness lit up, and the system prompted:
Correct answer. Reward issued. Fragment of the Beginner Spirit Beast Taming Guide stored in the sea of consciousness.
Immediately afterward, a stream of information flooded into my mind. It covered classifications of spirit beast habits, methods for testing spiritual affinity, setting safe distances, common gestures of goodwill, and more. There wasn't much, but every word was useful.
I closed my eyes and absorbed it for a while. When I opened them again, my gaze had changed.
So not every spirit beast could be caught. Some were born free and despised restraint. Forcing them into submission would only create an enemy. Those that could truly become companion beasts often required long periods of interaction and mutual recognition.
I put away the jade slip and placed the spent spirit stone back against my body.
Then I rose to my feet and walked toward the edge of the forest.
When I reached the place where it had disappeared, I stopped. From my sleeve pouch, I took out a small spirit crystal condensed from morning dew—it had naturally gathered while I meditated last night. It wasn't valuable, but it was clean and pure. I crouched down and gently placed it on a stone.
Without saying a word or channeling any spiritual energy, I simply took two steps back, turned around, and returned to the large stone to sit down.
I wouldn't act rashly again.
But I wouldn't give up either.
I knew it might still be watching.
I sat cross-legged and closed my eyes to regulate my breathing.
My fingers rested lightly on my knees, and my breathing gradually steadied.
The wind passed through the treetops, carrying a faint fragrance.
The corner of my mouth twitched slightly.