The sun beat down over the cracked stone of Redhollow's western barricade. The forest beyond hissed and whispered with beast chatter.
Ash stood at the edge of the rampart, his eyes calm, his fingers subtly twitching—subconsciously syncing with the pulsing soul mark of Mrit, the Nine-Horned Bull now nestled deep in his subconscious.
Behind him, Yan Qing yawned.
> "Another false alarm, I bet."
Lian Rou frowned, her spirit-sensing talisman fluttering.
> "No. Something's approaching fast. And heavy."
Moments later, the underbrush exploded.
A massive Tier 2 Bramblefang Boar, nearly two stories tall, burst from the woods. Its tusks were sharpened like halberds, spirit energy burning around its hooves. Its hide bristled with thorned plates, and its eyes locked directly onto the trio.
Ash stepped forward instinctively.
> "I'll hold the front."
Yan Qing scoffed.
> "What, you want to die a noble death?"
But Ash was already moving.
---
The Charge
He surged ahead, boots cracking stone, qi flaring around his frame. A sudden pulse erupted from his lower dantian—faint yet forceful. Not a full breakthrough… but close.
And infused with it was Mrit's power.
Ash's legs became iron pistons. His skin shimmered with the essence of reinforced muscle. And as the boar charged, he met it head-on—without using a weapon.
A tremor exploded from the impact.
Stone shattered beneath them as Ash's body absorbed and redirected the beast's momentum, pivoting with uncanny balance and slamming his fist into the boar's snout.
The beast reeled.
Lian Rou's eyes widened.
> "He stopped that? With… just body strength?"
Yan Qing was already moving, weaving fire-thread techniques into the air.
> "Don't just gawk—let's finish it!"
---
Teamwork… Uneven
As Lian Rou restrained the boar's left leg with vine snares, Yan Qing scorched its right flank with fire blasts. Ash dodged with strange efficiency—his enhanced instincts from spirit synchronization allowing him to move just before each attack.
Ash struck again—this time with a rising knee, powered by the bull's charge force. The blow cracked bone and sent the boar staggering.
Its eyes glowed in panic.
With a coordinated flurry of techniques, all three finished the beast—Ash's final palm blow driving it back onto a spiked barricade where it let out one last screech.
Then silence.
---
Aftermath
The guards watching from the wall clapped slowly.
> "Clean kill. That's a hundred marks each."
Ash wiped blood from his jaw, his expression unreadable.
Lian Rou approached him slowly, looking him up and down.
> "You were fast. And your movements... they were too fluid for someone barely at Root Forging."
Ash shrugged. "I've been training hard."
She narrowed her eyes.
> "Mm."
Yan Qing crossed her arms. "Whatever spirit you tamed in the furnace must've been more than just clever. You're improving fast."
Ash didn't answer.
But in his soul sea, Mrit's outline shimmered slightly—its horns brighter than before. Each battle strengthened the bond, and in turn, his base cultivation surged.
Shen Mu whispered faintly:
> "You're one push away from Qi Condensation. Keep hunting. One more spirit, and your throne will grow again."
---
That Night
In his room, Ash sat cross-legged.
His qi channels vibrated faintly—like a harp string ready to break.
In his subconscious, his throne—a small obsidian seat covered in pale green runes—had grown a little larger. A single horn floated above it like a crown.
Two spirits stood in silent vigil:
Vulcan, the silent Forgespirit.
Mrit, the Nine-Horned Bull, glowing with rage and honor.
And Ash… could feel something else. Something beneath. Like a third spirit calling from deep in the forest… dying… waiting to be found.
--