The following days—probably just seconds or minutes in the real world—became a brutal routine of hunting, cultivation, and recovery.
Long Chen used the Demon Rabbits as warm-ups, refining his reflexes and movements, but their cores now served only to replenish his depleted Soul Force, like mere energy potions.
The real breakthrough came from a far greater challenge. Just thinking about it sent a chill down his spine.
Three days earlier, after hearing a roar nearby, he had tracked and ambushed a Three-Star Bronze-Rank Demon Bear. The battle had been hell.
The bear was a mountain of muscle and fury, and the fight left him with cracked ribs and a deep leg wound that forced him to spend nearly a full day recovering in the cave.
But the reward had to be worth it: a demon core the size of a fist, pulsing with earthy, potent energy.
"Now's the time to use it and see what it can do."
Sitting in his cave, Long Chen held the Demon Bear's core in both hands. He took a deep breath and entered a cultivation state. The moment his Soul Force touched the core, a fierce and overwhelming energy—far denser and wilder than that of the rabbits—flooded his meridians.
His Soul Realm, previously a dull red, trembled violently. The bear's energy acted like explosives, shattering the bottleneck that had held him back.
His Soul Force, which had been stuck just below the 100-point mark, surged forward, breaking past the threshold of a One-Star Bronze-Rank Soul Cultivator and continuing to rise.
The power only stabilized when he firmly stepped into the territory of a Two-Star Bronze-Rank Demon Spiritualist.
A wide, satisfied grin spread across his face. He stood up, feeling power hum in his veins. He was stronger, faster, and his senses were incredibly sharper. The goal of his inner world incursion had been achieved—and then some.
"It's time to go," he told himself. He needed nothing more. He grabbed his trusty "Glory Staff," now scarred and polished from countless battles, and left the safety of the cave behind.
He walked through the forest, heading toward the grassy field where he had first appeared. He was relaxed, but alert. Suddenly, a cold aura exploded behind him. A chilling strike came from the rear—a black blur racing toward his back, claws outstretched, aiming to tear out his spine.
A week ago, he would've been dead before knowing what hit him.
But now, his instincts—honed through a month of life-or-death combat—screamed at him. Without hesitation, he dove to the side, rolling across the forest floor just as the claws tore through the air where his heart had been. He rose in one smooth motion, staff already in position, and faced his attacker.
It was a tiger, fur black as night, with rippling muscles and three malevolent, glowing eyes. A Five-Star Bronze-Rank demon beast: a Three-Eyed Black Tiger.
Upon seeing the beast, Long Chen didn't feel fear. Instead, a wave of excitement surged through him. He had already achieved his goal in this world. Death here wasn't the end. This was just a test. A provocative smile curled his lips as he faced the powerful beast.
"Alright," he said, voice calm in the midst of tension. "Let's fight…"
The air in the clearing grew heavy, charged with the beast's killing intent. The Three-Eyed Black Tiger didn't wait. With a guttural roar that shook the trees, it launched forward.
ROOOOAR!
It was a blur of darkness and fury, moving with a speed that betrayed its size. Long Chen felt the displaced wind from the strike before even seeing the claws. He spun on his heels, raising the "Glory Staff" to deflect the blow.
CLANG!
The impact was like being hit with a sledgehammer. His arms screamed in protest, and he staggered back several steps, feet carving grooves in the damp earth. The tiger gave no pause. Its powerful paws pounded the ground as it lunged again, jaws wide, dagger-like fangs gleaming.
Long Chen ducked—the beast's foul breath passed just over his head. He rolled aside, crying out in pain as a stray claw tore through his shirt and into his shoulder. "Damn it!" he hissed, feeling hot blood run down his arm.
The beast missed and slammed into a thick tree, which creaked and groaned before toppling with a dull crash that shook the ground.
Seeing an opening, Long Chen charged. "You wanted a fight, you three-eyed hellcat? Then take this!" he roared, channeling Soul Force into his staff. He struck the tiger's rear leg with all the strength he could muster.
CRACK!
A satisfying snap echoed—the sound of bone breaking. The tiger let out a howl of pain and stumbled. But the rage in its eyes only deepened. The third eye, previously shut, snapped open. It didn't fire a beam, but a wave of icy, psychic energy slammed into Long Chen.
It was like plunging into freezing water. His muscles stiffened, movements slowed, and it felt like the air froze inside his lungs.
Taking advantage of his hesitation, the tiger—ignoring its broken leg—leapt. This time, Long Chen wasn't fast enough. A massive paw slammed into his chest, and the world spun. He flew through the air, coughing up blood, and crashed hard into a tree trunk. Pain exploded in his back and ribs, knocking the air from his lungs. Black spots danced in his vision.
He spat out more blood, the taste of iron filling his mouth. "Not… done… yet…" he muttered, using the staff as support to stand. His legs trembled, and he was sure at least two ribs were broken. Maybe even a punctured organ.
The pain was excruciating—something his past-life self could never imagine enduring. But here, it was fine. He wouldn't die, even if he did.
Grrrrr
The tiger now approached slowly, savoring its victory. It circled him, third eye glowing ominously, dragging its broken hind leg.
Long Chen knew this was the end. But a fire lit in his eyes. He didn't have the strength for a drawn-out battle.
This was all or nothing.
As the tiger prepared for the final pounce, jaws widening to rip off his head, Long Chen did the unthinkable.
With a desperate, primal war cry, he charged straight toward what anyone would call certain death.
Instead of aiming for the head or body, he shoved his left arm straight into the beast's open jaws.
CRUNCH!
The sound was sickening—a wet, horrible crunch of bone, muscle, and tendon being crushed by sharp fangs. Blinding, searing pain exploded from his arm, racing up to his brain and drowning out all other sensations.
"AAAAAAAAARGH!"
The scream that tore from his throat wasn't human anymore. It was pure agony—the sound of a creature caught in a death trap.
But it worked.
The tiger, jaw clamped on his arm, froze for a fraction of a second—stunned by the suicidal act. And that sliver of time was all Long Chen needed.
Tears of pain streamed down his face, but his eyes were laser-focused. With his right hand, he raised the "Glory Staff." Ignoring the sensation of his arm being ground into pulp, he poured every ounce of Soul Force, every drop of will, pain, and fury into one final strike.
He slammed it down—straight into the beast's glowing third eye.
SQUELCH!
The wooden staff, hardened by spiritual energy, pierced through the eye like paper. He didn't stop. With a blood-curdling scream, Long Chen pushed it deeper, feeling the skull give way. The staff sank halfway in, driving straight into the creature's brain.
Bang!
The massive body of the Three-Eyed Black Tiger convulsed violently. One final spasm wracked its limbs. The light in its three eyes flickered—and died. Without a final roar, the beast collapsed, a lifeless weight falling on top of Long Chen and pinning him beneath it.
Silence.
Only Long Chen's ragged, painful breathing broke the stillness of the forest. He lay under the warm corpse, his left arm a mangled mess of blood and bone, still clamped in the tiger's jaws. The pain was overwhelming—but even so, a maniacal, bloodstained smile curled his lips.
He had won—though probably at the cost of his life.