Spirit beasts tended to be more powerful than cultivators at the same star. When encountering a spirit beast an entire star ahead—a little more, in this case—the general consensus was to run with your tail between your legs.
It was all I could do to duck and weave under its agile claws, tearing through the icy air like a blizzard. Each of its bestial roars sent the nearby snow billowing into the air, giving the spirit beast cover to launch a fresh assault while I shook myself out of a daze.
Perhaps if I’d been more aware of my surroundings instead of caught up admiring the beauty of a lone flower, I could’ve escaped. No, escape had never been an option, I realised. Running away would mean leaving the defenceless villagers to the mercy of the rabid bear.
And rabid it was. The sharp battle instinct it displayed could be mistaken for intelligence, but it was just a by-product of the beast’s power far outclassing my own. However, the bear’s eyes were cloudy and bloodshot while its mouth spewed drool across the snow.
This monster had been driven to madness and I was just unfortunate enough to cross its path. I misstepped, the thick coat of snow making me miss my footing, and the bear’s claws raked across my forearm.
Three deep valleys were carved into my flesh, burning and freezing simultaneously. The snowstorm was a blessing in this instance, slowing the flow of my blood so that the vicious wound was less deadly.
However, that didn’t make it painless. Wincing from the blow I stumbled back. I was no stranger to pain, but being savaged by a wild beast was new to me. The sudden tearing burn knocked me off balance and the bear pounced with mad fury.
Even with the surge in my cultivation bringing me around halfway through the seventh star, I was near powerless. If the spirit beast wasn’t in this mindless rage, there may have been a chance to drive it away, but as things stood I was stuck fighting for my life.
A gaping jaw burst through a wall of powdered snow, the bear intent on snapping my head off in a single bite. I grit my teeth, searching for a way out.
Right now it wasn’t focusing, convinced it was about to snag an easy snack. I kicked off the snowy grass as hard as I could, narrowly avoiding the bear’s teeth snapping shut right where my head had been.
As I dodged the near fatal attack, I spotted a festering wound on the bear’s underbelly. I’d seen the greenish hue of its fur before and thought little of it, but the evidence was plain as day. Tainted blood laced with poisonous sludge dripped from the wound, burning the snow where it touched.
In fact, I should’ve guessed from the moment I saw it was a bear attacking me that something odd was at play. Right now it was the heart of winter—even spirit beasts hibernated through the cold season.
However, there was no time to wonder why the bear was attacking me. It had already recovered from the miss and was tearing towards me once more. If I could survive this encounter, then and only then would I think about what had caused it.
Each time I dodged a swipe of its claws I lashed out with precise counter-attacks. However, my blows seemed ineffective.
I wasn’t making progress like this. If I continued to fight all that would happen is my eventual death.
Another glimpse of the festering wound confirmed my suspicions. The bear had almost certainly been struck with a potent venom, the likely cause of its current madness.
Knowing what I knew about the behaviour of bears—which admittedly, was based on their cousins from another world—I suspected that treating the wound might clear the beast’s head and force it back into hibernation.
Then again, it might just slaughter me as thanks and then take a few of the villagers as crunchy treats for its winter sleep. But, I wouldn’t know until I tried.
My healing technique was undoubtedly the most potent weapon at my disposal. I’d proven how lethal it could be when I killed the bandit leader back at the inn, but now I was going to do something utterly insane.
I planned to heal my enemy in the middle of our battle. There are many who would call me insane, but I knew my limits and this fight would only end in my death if I continued to struggle. This was the only option available to me.
If all else failed, I still had the option to run away, though that route seemed doomed to failure. Even with the superhuman speed of a seven-star Body Tempering cultivator I wouldn’t be able to outrun the spirit bear.
Having decided how I would win this battle—or at least give myself the slimmest hope at victory—I faced another problem. My technique required prolonged physical contact with the patient.
I felt as though every new encounter was forcing me to rethink my application of the technique. The scientist in me was rejoicing at the constant need for experimentation, but the doctor cringed at the instability it brought.
Neither of them were as important as my monkey survival brain, which was telling me to cling to anything that would let me survive the battle with the bear. So, even though I couldn’t see a way to make contact with the bear I started drawing on my blood essence.
It was rather peaceful when resting in my body, bar the occasional spark lancing down one of my limbs as I dodged or parried the monster’s strikes. As soon as they felt my call, the sparks vibrated with glee, eager to escape the prison of my vessel and work their magic.
I directed almost half of my blood essence into my left hand. I would’ve preferred to use my right, but since the bear’s wound was on my left I would have to make do with my weaker arm.
My skin took on a shade of red from the sheer quantity of essence stored within and I felt a burning itch. Every second I held back, the sparks vibrated faster until my hand was home to a raging storm of blood.
The entire time this was happening I just about managed to avoid the bear’s razor sharp claws and in its anger it had decided to try and bite my foot off. Prey that couldn’t move was an easy meal.
Once again, the change in tactics gave me a window of opportunity. As the bear shot forward I leapt to the side, narrowly avoiding its slobbering jaws.
Putting all my faith into this working out, I dove forwards at the festering wound that gaped on the bear’s underbelly. I winced as a line of fire was carved into my calf by an errant claw, but couldn’t withdraw my focus from my target.
Forming a hasty seal with two fingers, not exactly a necessity but it helped me focus, I jammed it into the wound and let my essence loose. My fingers sunk into the soft and sticky cocktail of flesh and corrupted blood.
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
It was far from the worst injury I’d seen, but the smell nearly made me gag. I was used to wearing a mask while working, which tended to save my delicate nostrils from the worst of the awful aromas that came as part of the job.
It had barely been a second since I struck, but already I could see my blood essence exploding like fireworks on the fourth of July. Perhaps the severity of the wound and size of the beast were accelerating the process?
Unfortunately, my target had no idea of my good intentions. The moment I’d struck the wound it roared in agony and fury, turning its bloodshot eyes on me and lifting its front leg to strike away the nuisance.
I couldn’t let it hit me this close. Even an accidental cut from those claws had nearly crippled my calf. All of them striking in concert would carve me into ribbons.
Luckily, my essence made the decision for me. Right when I was thinking how best to disengage, I felt an overwhelming torrent of energy blasting up my arm. The sheer force of it almost made me pull away, but that would cost me everything I’d risked my life to earn.
I saw a silver flash as the bear’s claws caught the winter sun at the peak of its stretch, before it swung them down with the force of a speeding truck. The surge of blood essence had slowed and I knew there was only a little left, so I was committed to a narrow escape.
While waiting, I lifted myself so that both feet were firmly planted against the bear’s stomach and the moment I felt the stream of energy stop I leapt with every ounce of strength I could muster.
A sense of foreboding dread crept over me and an icy sting lanced down my forearm as I sailed through the air. I smiled as I saw the bear’s claws pass harmlessly underneath it, my glee growing when I noticed the wound already looking less like a mouldy swamp.
My backside planted itself in the soft powdery snow. The bear was already snarling at me, taking slow steps in my direction. I did notice it throw a few puzzled glances at its belly and even shake itself a little.
I wasn’t close enough to tell, but I would’ve bet my life that the glassy glaze in its eyes had faded. However, my help had only infuriated it further and the spirit bear now seemed determined to devour me.
One added benefit of my risky gambit was that my cultivation had skyrocketed, the multiplication of my blood essence bringing me right to the cusp of breaking through to the eighth star. While still far from a match for the muscular beast I would at least be able hold my own as I attempted to finish what I’d started. The wound was still not treated yet.
Just then, another burning spear of energy cut through my arm, reaching all the way to my shoulder. I looked down at my hand, eyes widening as I saw the sickly green colour it had taken on.
Immediately I realised what had happened. For the first time since I began using the technique, I’d discovered a drawback—one that might prove fatal.
Along with the massively increased quantity of blood essence I’d received after treating the bear’s wound, the foul toxin which had been eating away at the spirit beast had infected my essence itself and passed into my body.
I let out a booming laugh, that made the bear halt for a moment. Seeing I was still a rather unthreatening, yet frustrating meal it continued to stalk forward.
By healing the bear I had brought its affliction unto myself and was now infected with the same potent venom that had driven the spirit beast to madness. I felt the sickly tendrils of energy worming their way up my arm.
Ironically, my decision to use my left hand might end up killing me faster since the venom would have an easier route to my heart. I raced through memories, trying to recall what I knew about treating venomous wounds.
However, everything I’d been taught regarding the corrupting creatures of Earth fell flat of addressing this rather more mystical venom. I’d never learned how to treat an energy toxin—and neither had Zhao Dan.
I clutched at my burning arm and fell to one knee as the pain consumed me, not realising my enemy was just metres away. Close enough to strike.
The bear let out a roar, its anger the only warning I had before two sets of claws descended from above, caging me in its razor-sharp assault. I had been given just enough time to roll out of the way thanks to its roar, but three claws still raked down my back, carving valleys of severed flesh and flowing blood into my skin.
I lay there on the ground, unmoving as rivers of my blood painted the surrounding snow a beautiful crimson. Looking towards the bear, I saw that instead of jumping to finish me off, it was pawing at its half-healed wound.
At that moment an explosion of fire consumed my shoulder and focusing my gaze inwards I saw that my blood essence was furiously battling the invading toxins, both sides consuming the other endlessly. All I could do was watch and cheer myself on, hoping my raging essence would outlast the vile venom.
I couldn’t help but tear my gaze away to snatch a look at the bear, but to my relief it was still prodding at the wound, throwing puzzled glances my way every so often. Despite that, I didn’t believe the beast would give up on eating me, knowing I was basically crippled.
Devouring a cultivator at the zenith of seven-star Body Tempering would propel the beast’s own cultivation. Spirit beasts advanced by devouring other beasts and absorbing their cores, or through consuming cultivators like myself.
I’m so glad that humans can’t advance their cultivation in the same way, I thought to myself, because I’m one hundred percent sure some psychopath would resort to cannibalism to achieve a breakthrough or two.
To my great relief, my raging blood essence had started to win the war. The venom was cut off from its source and unable to multiply while my own essence had the home field advantage.
The corrupting energy was being pushed back down my arm, though a few patches of festering skin remained. I would need to heal myself the traditional way even after I was clear of this ordeal.
Healing my own injuries to progress my cultivation would’ve been an incredible cheat, but even when I screamed at my blood essence to heal the damage as it forced the venom back, it refused.
About halfway down my forearm the battle reached a tipping point. The venom had been putting up a grand resistance until now but it suddenly collapsed and my blood essence surged forth, the hungry sparks racing to devour what remained.
Once the final drop of venom had vanished, my body shivered and I noticed that my own blood essence had adopted an extremely faint green hue. I chuckled, noticing that the red and green combo looked rather festive for the winter season.
What did this mean for my technique? Would I no longer be able to heal others without also infecting them with venom, or would I have an easier time curing toxic wounds?
There was no time to figure it out because the bear had decided that despite me partially healing its underbelly it still wanted to eat me. I clambered to my feet just in time to step out of the way of a wild slash, before lashing out with a kick of my own.
I felt my toes tremble as they smashed into a wall of solid muscle, but I actually managed to knock the bear’s arm backwards! The increase in my cultivation was showing already and I knew my chances of survival were now much greater.
There was only one path left for me—finishing what I’d started. Gathering my newly upgraded essence in my fingers once more as I traded countless blows with the beast, I kept my eyes peeled for an opportunity.
I needed to find one soon, because the blood loss was making me light headed and there’d been a few times I mistimed a dodge or block and the bear had torn even more chunks of flesh from my arms. In fact, I nearly missed the perfect chance to strike.
The bear had struck across my chest, but I deftly stumbled backwards to avoid the blow, leaving its underbelly ripe for healing. I fell forwards, slapping my hand against the half-healed flesh and felt my eager essence racing into the wound.
Apparently the bear was as shocked as I that I’d managed to pull this insanity off twice in a single battle, because for a moment it just stared at its paw, wondering why it had struck empty air.
I saw my essence beginning to swirl and merge with the bear’s own. In fact, the festering corruption seemed to be getting erased even faster than before, proving that devouring the toxins had in fact improved my technique.
However, I still needed more time to completely heal the wound. Time I wasn’t going to get, because the bear had opted for a new strategy. It roared and reared up on its hind legs, tearing me from the ground as I clung onto the hole in its stomach for dear life.
It reached the peak of its stretch, standing almost ten feet tall as it roared its fury at the icy sun. I felt the blizzard tearing at my skin as I was exposed to the elements, before my stomach dropped as the bear threw itself back down.