Tang San awoke before dawn, his body already alert. The inner flow of spirit power had become something natural, something alive. He could feel it like a second heartbeat.
Today was not a normal training day.
Grandmaster had given him permission to travel deeper into the forest—alone, for the first time.
"You're not strong enough to take a second ring yet," Grandmaster had said the night before, "but your control and instincts need real tests. Go. Stay alive. Learn."
Tang San understood. No ring. No goal of killing spirit beasts. Just survival. Observation. Adaptation.
Into the Deep Forest
With Blue Silver Grass coiled around his wrist like a snake, Tang San moved silently through the underbrush of the Nuoding Forest. Deeper than before, the trees grew older, the air more humid. The sounds of insects and beasts echoed with a deeper rhythm.
He found a perch atop a fallen tree and waited.
And waited.
Within an hour, a Shadow Leopard, perhaps 800 years old, stalked through the clearing. Tang San's breath slowed as he studied its footwork, its cautious glances, the twitch of its tail. It was hunting.
Suddenly, it pounced—on a horned hare just meters from Tang San's hiding place.
In a single moment, predator became blur, and prey was torn apart.
Tang San didn't flinch. Instead, he noted how the leopard's spirit energy flared just before its strike. Subtle. But clear to someone as sensitive as him.
He waited for the beast to leave, then returned to the spot and meditated.
The scene had triggered something.
He imagined himself the prey. Then the predator. Then the grass, caught between them.
His Blue Silver Grass responded with surprising sharpness, a flicker of resonance in his chest.
A New Breakthrough
That night, under a canopy of stars, Tang San practiced alone.
One vine. Two vines. Then three.
His spirit power now supported triple casting, weaving the vines together to entangle rocks and fling them midair. It drained him quickly, but it was progress.
The black stone remained dormant within him—but it stabilized his spirit power, allowing longer meditation sessions and smoother recovery.
He had no name for the effect. Only that it made his cultivation steadier.
The second spirit ring… it would come soon.
But it would not be rushed.
A Month Passes
Over the next four weeks, Tang San pushed his limits daily.
He stalked beasts without being seen. Avoided danger by instinct. Engaged in close combat with low-tier spirit beasts to sharpen his reactions.
He never used his ring during fights—just vines, footwork, and cold precision.
He trained until his limbs ached and meditated until sleep overtook him.
His strength grew, but not like fire—more like a tree growing thicker roots.
Level 18. Then 18.2. Then 18.6.
No spikes. No bursts.
Only constant effort.
An Invitation from Grandmaster
At the end of the month, Grandmaster summoned him.
"You're stronger. More than I expected. But now you must fight under pressure."
Tang San's eyes narrowed. "Against?"
"Spirit beasts. Mid-tier. 600–1000 years. You'll only observe and flee if needed. I'll be watching from afar."
Tang San nodded.
The Trial
They traveled far—beyond Nuoding's patrols—into Stormfang Ridge, where spirit beasts roamed freely.
Within an hour, Tang San came across a Razor-Horned Boar, snorting through the underbrush. About 700 years old.
It charged.
Tang San dodged, barely missing the goring tusks. He flipped backward, vines shooting out from both hands to bind its forelegs—but the boar rolled, broke free, and came again.
A real fight.
His breathing quickened. Muscles ached. But he didn't panic.
Each move was sharper than the last. A trap vine here. A misdirection there. The beast stumbled—then charged again with greater rage.
Tang San knew he couldn't kill it. But he could learn.
He studied its reaction time. Tested his limits. Calculated energy cost of each move.
Only after a drawn-out ten-minute battle did he retreat, breath ragged, spirit power drained.
And yet—he felt alive.
More than ever.
Back at the Academy
That night, Tang San sat alone on the roof again.
The stars seemed brighter.
The forest quieter.
And in his chest, a sense of readiness stirred.
He was nearing Level 19. Just one more solid month.
Then, he could finally choose his second ring.
And the black stone… though silent, remained warm.
Waiting.
End of Chapter 18