---
Night fell upon the inner halls of the Lei Mansion, casting long and menacing shadows over the golden tapestries. The flickering light from oil lamps trembled softly, but in that secluded room of the western wing, the darkness seemed denser, as if it swallowed the light. There, gathered beneath the ancient crest of the Lei lineage, were the principal nobles opposing Lei Wuchen's rise.
Lei Minghao, clad in crimson robes embroidered with gold, stood at the head of the table. His gaze was cold, jaw clenched. At his side stood Lei Yanshou, the silver-haired elder, and Lei Zhentian, arms always crossed and brow deeply furrowed.
"We've allowed too much already," Minghao growled. "That bastard child not only survived the hunt, but he's now reached level twenty at only eight years old. He's about to earn his second ring. This is unacceptable."
"It's the Duke's fault," Yanshou said with disdain. "Each day, he bets more on that child. He's risking the name of the main bloodline."
Zhentian slammed his fist on the table. "We must act before it's too late. If he gets a second ring, his strength will be enough to start threatening our own heirs."
Minghao nodded and drew a small scroll from his robe. Names were written on it in black ink.
"I've discreetly hired a group of spirit master mercenaries. They're unaffiliated with the Empire or the Spirit Hall. Efficient, discreet, and lethal."
"Do they know their targets?" Zhentian asked.
"They only know they're to eliminate the boy and the personal guard accompanying him during the hunt. Accidents in forests are common. No one will suspect a thing."
The three shared complicit glances.
"By the end of this mission," Yanshou said, raising his jade cup, "the bloodline will be purified."
---
Two days later…
The carriage moved slowly along a trail of stone and dirt amid dense vegetation. Golden sunbeams filtered through the treetops, casting shifting shadows over the moist ground. Wuchen, seated beside his father on the driver's bench, watched silently.
Lei Qingshan, with his calm and resolute demeanor, held the reins with one hand and kept the other near the short sword at his waist. His eyes scanned the path ahead with the precision of a seasoned soldier.
"We're almost at the Crimson Dusk Forest," he said. "It's a dangerous place. Countless territorial beasts live here, and most hate intruders."
Wuchen nodded. Anxiety and anticipation swirled within him. His body pulsed with the energy of a Spirit Grandmaster. The second ring called to him — and he knew he would be tested.
The forest's entrance was marked by red-barked trees with thick canopies. When the carriage stopped, Qingshan jumped down and extended a hand to his son.
"From here on, the hunt begins."
Wuchen dismounted, taking a deep breath. The air was dense, humid, full of the scent of damp earth and the distant buzzing of wild creatures.
---
In the early hours, father and son moved cautiously. Qingshan led with heightened senses, and Wuchen followed silently, alert to every sound. They crossed creeks, thick underbrush, and areas of low vegetation. Signs of battle — claw marks on trees, old bones, impact craters — appeared frequently.
"We have two objectives," Qingshan explained. "To find the Ironhide Bear and avoid conflict with other dominant beasts. After much research and advice from the Duke, this seems the best beast for your second ring. This forest has at least three territories claimed by thousand-year beasts."
On the rocky slopes of a valley, they found the first clues: large footprints sunk into the earth like craters. Claw trails scored the hard ground.
"It's him," Qingshan murmured. "And he's close."
---
The sound of cracking branches echoed ahead. Splintered twigs. A deep roar, like distant thunder.
Wuchen felt the hairs on his neck stand up. The air grew heavier, almost metallic.
In the clearing ahead, the Ironhide Bear appeared. A colossus nearly three meters tall, with fur as dark as coal and thick muscles. Its skin, visible through gaps in its coat, was a dark, shiny gray — resembling metal plates.
Its small amber eyes stared at the intruders with pure hostility. The ground shook beneath its steps.
Qingshan immediately stepped in front of his son.
"Don't attack yet. He's old and territorial. He'll test our courage before striking. Hold your gaze steady."
The bear rose on its hind legs and pounded its chest. The sound was like hammers on steel. Its fur bore streaks of silver — a sign of its age. When fully silver, it would become a thousand-year beast.
Wuchen activated his Iron Tyrant Armor. His spirit ring glowed behind him, and his body was enveloped in living metallic aura. His muscles expanded, his skin hardened. He rolled his shoulders and took a combat stance.
"Attack with caution and no fear. I'm here to protect you," Qingshan said.
Wuchen charged forward. He used the Silent Thunder Style — short, rapid strikes aimed at joints. The bear barely moved, its skin absorbing the blows. But something changed.
"He's growing stronger with each strike," Qingshan warned. "That's his ability. Force Absorption."
The Ironhide Bear roared and launched a punch like a lightning bolt. Wuchen was hurled against a tree, but stood up, panting.
"I need to weaken him before I can bring him down."
Qingshan nodded. "Keep moving. You have the advantage in speed and technique. Force him to expend energy. He's tough, but not tireless."
For nearly an hour, the battle raged across the clearing. Qingshan occasionally drew the bear's attacks, dodging by a hair, while Wuchen struck from the sides. When the bear roared, the trees quivered.
At last, noticing the creature's heavy breathing and sluggish movements, Wuchen gathered his strength, activated his ring, and used a refined impact technique: the Stone Core Punch — a variation taught by the Duke.
The blow struck the beast's chin full force. A sharp crack. The bear collapsed sideways, exhausted and wheezing.
Qingshan stepped in and, with surgical precision, knocked the creature unconscious.
Wuchen stepped forward and, drawing a dagger from his belt, ended the bear's life. A spirit ring emerged from its body — a golden-yellow glow.
"You fought well," his father said. "Now, absorb it."
Wuchen sat down, crossed his legs, and guided the energy into the ring. The light spiraled inward. After two years of training, his body was much stronger than before, and the absorption went smoothly.
When he opened his eyes, there was power within. But something more as well.
Determination.
Qingshan placed a hand on his son's shoulder.
"You now carry the power of a beast that fears nothing. Honor it."
They rose. The forest seemed silent.
But in the distance, the shadows began to move.
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