I took a deep breath, allowing the complex blend of aromas to linger a moment longer. The sweet hint of wildflowers, mineral-infused water, luscious greenery, and the fragrant, nutty smell of the bloodwoods danced in a delicate balance that was as refreshing as intoxicating.

I pulled back my mana, filling my channels and a little more than half of my core, careful not to take more than what I left behind. Like the rich aroma, my mana felt more vibrant than before. The same could be said for my muscles, which I stretched out methodically.

Overall, my time in the Alderi regiments was terrible. The food was bland, housing was communal, and pay was non-existent. We had little freedom outside of command and less inside. Missions lasted months and ended in a battle that could've been handled with less fighting if preparations were taken seriously. For all the wealth the Alderi empire had, they seemed extra stingy on proper transportation. After fighting, we'd have a long walk back home. They called it patrol duty, everyone in the army knew they weren't willing to pay the portal expenses.

One benefit of being a regular was learning their various katas. The Alderians were known for their military power because their basic training was anything but basic. They had specialized training regimens for classes, mana types, fighting styles, and cultivation. Working on mind cultivation—there was a kata for that. Need to improve the body? Alderi had dozens of katas for that alone.

If someone wanted to train with weapons, the empire had a system for them. It wasn't that they had systems, either. Their katas were known as the best in the world. It was the military's most considerable drawing power. They could train and develop cultivators' skills far better than an individual could do independently. All it took was four years of devoted service.

After four years as a regular and two as a marine, doing my daily katas was no different than waking up each morning. I worked through six: simple stretches, sword forms, muscle warm-ups, archery, mind rhythms, and spirit flows. The last two were usually done at night when I focused on those areas of cultivation. If I was being honest, though, I rarely focused on spirit flows.

Once satisfied with my stretches, I worked through the four other physical katas and ended with another round of stretching. I must admit, between the spring, peaceful trees, and melodious chirping of birds, I was in a peak cultivating moment. My body felt healthy, my mind was relaxed, and my spirit was rejuvenated.

I would stay in this small paradise for another week, at least, if I didn't have pressing matters to attend to. Immediate issue number one, the diners were almost done dining and were destined to dash. Time demanded I make haste.

I surged power through my body, pumping the energy faster than my heart. With the precision of a cartographer and the speed of a panther, I sprinted through the forest, navigating the trees and landmarks. My destination was mapped, and I was determined to arrive on time.

Before my rise in rank, I could reach speeds of twenty miles per hour. I was roughly fifty percent faster. I needed to be quicker.

I covered my feet in a thin layer of water and created a distant anchor. The anchor pulled each step forward, and I power glided through the woods. Step, pull, slide — it was almost like I had a rope I was pulling on. Trees whipped by. The rocks, roots, plants, and dirt didn't deter my steps. With my traveling speed, I slid over the natural barriers with ease. Around seven miles, my thighs and calves were feeling the strain. I would have to spend a moment to recover them before I waded into battle.

Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.

Eleven minutes later, I reached the clearing. Despite the speed and distance, I was light of breath. My mana and channels were still fresh. The only recovery I needed was in my legs. As I stretched, I pumped water around them and let the hydrotherapy relax and recover my muscles. It took another minute of recovery before I felt fit to fight. The recovery was desperately needed.

The wolfbears were no longer the simpletons they were in the previous life. These beasts had feasted on cultivators' flesh and absorbed the rich mana. Like the monster that ended my last loop, the two dozen wolfbears were double in size. However, their evolution did not stop there. Sharp fangs jutted from the top and bottom of their wide mouths. Their fur was several inches thicker and had a black sheen to it. There was less laughter in their howls that rumbled the earth.

Several of the beasts were lying on the ground in a post-feast nap. A small pack scoured the ground, lapping up any remaining scraps. Seven wolfbears gnawed and scratched at the ice, preserving my body. One side was whittled down, nearly exposing the flesh of my slightly stretched-out arm. Even though Cali was partially covered in my ice, like all other corpses, his body was devoured.

From the cover of the woods, I watched the beast attack the ice barrier. By my estimates, I had at least thirty minutes before my 'life anchor' would be in danger. A wiser person would use the time to plan and calculate. At times, I could be that kind of person. That was not this cycle. The beasts had ripened—they were no longer the common rank spirit beasts. They passed the rank of superior and were now grand rank. Their cores, if successfully harvested, would be worth a small fortune.

I kept my presence minimal as I crept out into the clearing. My steps were light, my breathing even lighter. I was semi-crouched. I was confident I could sneak up on the sleeping beast if there was any cover. This graveyard was barren. The only memorial was my ice shrine, which only offered a temporary distraction.

I held my breath as I approached the napping dogs. Their foul breath permeated the air, and I had to hold back my insides from forcing their way out. Their snores mixed with the growling chatter of the unsatiated predators, creating a cacophony of noises and smells most unpleasant to the senses.

My hand tightened on the leather grip of my ice claymore.

A beast in the middle of the slumbering pack raised an ear—my step scratched the ground instead of smoothly landing. I paused in my tracks, lowered my presence, and waited. The ears remained alert, but the head didn't join and remained asleep.

I was only ten steps away. As I took my next step, the light sleeper whimpered a sad cry louder than the choir of snoozers.

Damn. My heart pounded, betraying me like the coward it always was. My thoughts were no better. Run. Run. Run. I kept cool on the outside and stepped closer.

Three more steps, and I would be in range.

The whimpering welp wasn't finished. A ghost howl escaped its mouth. I stood in anticipation for the pack to awaken. My two hands held my sword out, ready for an attack. With each breath, I nearly choked on the tension. I wasn’t an assassin. I was betrayed by the lure of an easy kill. It was foolish. One of the beasts raised its head, its nose raised high and sniffing. In my mind, I tried to pull back all of my scents, keeping them hidden. It was a feeble thought. The sniffer rested its head atop another prone body.

Before I took the next step, I became keenly aware of watchful eyes. The sleepers were still sleeping and the ice lickers couldn’t be bothered. It was the scavengers that found their missing morsel.