The Beast Core Cultivator

For the next two hours, the Whisperwood became Damian's testing ground.

His enhanced senses led him to two more beasts: another Phantom Lynx and a low-tier Ironback Badger. He dispatched both with his heavy black sabre, his movements becoming less frantic and more deliberate. With every swing, his muscles remembered the weight of the blade, adapting to the explosive strength the River Hound's core had granted him.

He ripped the murky grey cores from their chests and pressed them to his own. Just like before, they melted into his skin, feeding the fire in his center.

He felt invincible.

Until he didn't.

As he stepped over the rotting trunk of a fallen oak, a sudden, blinding spike of agony dropped Damian to his knees. He gasped, dropping the sabre. It felt as though someone had poured boiling acid directly into his veins.

He tore open his shredded tunic. Beneath his skin, thick, jagged lines of crimson and murky grey were bulging, violently pulsing up his neck and down his arms.

The energy, Damian realized, his vision swimming with dark spots. It's clashing.

The massive, refined energy of the River Hound was violently rejecting the chaotic, unrefined Qi from the lynxes and the badger. His body was acting as a battlefield, and his flesh was tearing itself apart to contain the pressure. He coughed, spitting a mouthful of black blood into the dirt.

He was going to explode.

Damian collapsed against the oak tree, gritting his teeth so hard he tasted copper. He couldn't just let the energy run wild. If this was Qi, it had to be controlled. Cultivators didn't just hoard power; they guided it.

Closing his eyes, he forced his panicked breathing to slow. He focused entirely on the burning center of his chest. He visualized the chaotic storm of red and grey light. With sheer, stubborn force of will, he mentally grabbed hold of the stray grey energy.

Move, he commanded it.

It resisted, burning hotter.

Move!

Slowly, agonizingly, he forced the grey Qi to follow the path of the crimson Qi. He pushed it out from his chest, down into his arms, looping it through his fingertips, and dragging it back up to his center.

Without realizing it, Damian was forcefully carving open his own meridians, the hidden energy channels of the human body. The pain was worse than the beast's claws, a deep, internal tearing that threatened to shatter his mind.

He cycled the energy once. Twice. A third time.

With every cycle, the murky grey impurities were burned away by the River Hound's dominant crimson fire. The bulging veins under his skin slowly receded. The boiling heat settled back into a warm, heavy hum in his chest.

Damian opened his eyes, slumping entirely against the damp bark, completely drenched in cold sweat. He had survived his first true bottleneck. His Qi was denser, his channels wider, but the physical toll was staggering.

His stomach let out a hollow, painful growl that echoed in the quiet woods. His enhanced muscles had burned through all his natural reserves to repair the damage. He wasn't just hungry; he was starving on a cellular level.

If he didn't eat and find a safe place to rest before nightfall, the beasts wouldn't have to kill him. His own body would consume itself.