The mountain cave was cold, damp, and utterly dark. Han Long’s fists were raw, his knuckles split and bleeding from pounding the rock walls. A dim light shining through a crevice of the cave entrance illuminated his anguished face, his jaw clenched tight, eyes blazing with stubborn resolve.

He was trapped.

The cave’s entrance was blocked by a massive boulder, immovable despite his every effort. He had tried everything—pushing, kicking—but nothing worked.

How did I end up here?

The last thing he remembered was walking through the mountain pass, searching for medicinal herbs. The jade pendant that he had worn around his neck started to glow with a pale green light. As he glanced at the glowing pendant, its surface swirled with faint green energy. It felt warm against his skin, pulsing in sync with his heartbeat.

He felt a sharp pain in his chest, and then he was here—in this cursed cave.

His head throbbed. His body was sore and bruised. He had been punching, kicking, and screaming for hours, but the boulder hadn’t budged.

A voice echoed from deep within the cave, its tone cold and commanding:

“Is that all you’ve got?”

Han’s body tensed. The voice was deep, authoritative—filled with power and disdain. It seemed to come from the cave itself, reverberating through the cave walls.

“Who’s there? Show yourself!” Han’s voice was hoarse, but he kept his stance firm. His body was battered, but his spirit was unyielding.

A shadowy figure materialized before him, floating in mid-air.

It was a man—tall and imposing, he was decked in battle armor, his face stern and unforgiving. A long scar ran down his left eye, and his gaze was as cold as ice.

“You do not need to know who I am,” the figure announced, his voice echoing like thunder. “Prove yourself worthy or die in this cave.”

Han’s eyes widened. Prove himself?

“What are you talking about?” Han demanded, his fists clenching so tightly his knuckles turned white. “I don’t even know how I got here! Let me out!”

The figure before him didn’t flinch. Its gaze, cold and unreadable, bore into him like a judge passing sentence.

“Weak. Pathetic. And yet you dare call yourself a warrior?”

Han’s chest tightened at the words, though he refused to show it. He had always been alone, never knowing the warmth of family or the faces of his parents. Survival had been his only teacher—scavenging scraps, hunting in the wild when hunger gnawed at his ribs. As he grew, he had learned to fight, not through formal training, but by watching, mimicking, adapting. He became a wandering fighter, taking part in brutal matches for coin, enduring pain, and clawing his way to victory.

A warrior? He had earned that title with blood and sweat.

His jaw tightened. “I don’t need to prove anything to you.”

This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

The figure remained still, its voice like the rumble of distant thunder. “Then leave. The path is before you. But if you seek freedom, you must earn it. Defeat your enemies. Shatter the boulder. Only then will you be worthy to carry my legacy.”

A deep tremor rolled through the cave, shaking the ground beneath Han’s feet. The stone split, fissures racing like veins of a living beast. The walls groaned, shifting as if the cavern itself were awakening from a slumber.

Then came the shadows.

They slithered and stretched, twisting into monstrous forms, their glowing red eyes burning like embers in the abyss.

From the darkness, three creatures emerged.

The first was a Shadow Panther, its sleek body rippling like liquid night, each step fluid and silent, as though it was a whisper of death itself. Its claws, black as obsidian, gleamed under the dim cave light, ready to strike in an instant.

The second, a Blood Wolf, bared its fangs, hunger burning in its crimson gaze. Drool dripped from its snarling maw, sizzling as it touched the ground. Its thick fur bristled with aggression, every muscle tensed, coiled like a spring ready to unleash devastation.

Last came the Stone Ape, towering above the others, its muscles bulging beneath a thick hide that looked as unyielding as the cavern itself. Its fists, massive as boulders, clenched and unclenched, each movement causing the earth to tremble.

They circled him, their growls low and guttural, reverberating through the cave like a death knell. Their eyes gleamed with bloodlust, fixed on Han with an eerie intelligence. This was no mindless hunger—this was the hunt. And he was their prey.

“Survive or perish,” the figure said coldly, fading into mist.

Han’s body moved on instinct. Years of training kicked in. He dropped into a fighting stance, his legs bent, fists clenched. His eyes darted between the three beasts, calculating his chances.

Three against one. No weapons. Injured and exhausted. Great.

The Shadow Panther lunged first, its body blurring into a streak of darkness. Han twisted his body, dodging by a hair’s breadth. Its claws sliced through the air, narrowly missing his neck.

Before he could catch his breath, the Blood Wolf charged, its jaws wide open. Han leapt backward, his back hitting the cave wall. No room to maneuver.

The Stone Ape roared, slamming its fists into the ground. The cave shook, stones falling from the ceiling.

Han’s eyes widened. If I stay defensive, I’ll die.

A memory surfaced—his master’s voice: “A cornered wolf fights with everything it has. Strike before you’re struck.”

His eyes hardened. No more running.

With a burst of energy, Han charged forward. The Shadow Panther leapt at him, but he ducked low, his fist slamming into its abdomen. The beast howled, fading into black mist.

One down.

The Blood Wolf pounced, aiming for his throat. Han spun to the side, his elbow smashing into its snout. It whimpered but retaliated, claws raking across his arm. Blood sprayed.

Pain flared, but Han didn’t stop. He gritted his teeth, swinging his leg in a roundhouse kick, sending the Blood Wolf crashing into the cave wall. It shattered into red mist.

Two down.

The Stone Ape roared in rage, charging with earth-shattering speed. Han could feel the force radiating from its body. Too strong to block.

He dodged sideways, barely avoiding the Ape’s crushing fists. The ground cracked, debris flying.

It’s too strong. I need to use speed.

Han focused his energy, he felt power coursing through his veins, his body becoming lighter, faster.

Shadow Step.

His form blurred, moving faster than the eye could see. He appeared behind the Stone Ape, his fists coated in green energy.

“Falling Leaf Strike!” he shouted, his fists crashing into the Ape’s spine. The creature roared, its body crumbling to dust.

All three are gone.

Han collapsed to his knees, panting heavily. His arms throbbed with pain, blood dripping from his wounds. But he was alive. He had won.

The figure reappeared, his eyes colder than before.

“Barely adequate. You survived, but that was merely the beginning. If you wish to leave, you must grow stronger—strong enough to break the boulder with your fists.”

Han’s eyes widened. Break the boulder? With my bare hands?

“Survive the fights and master your power, and only then shall you be free.”

Han’s heart sank. How many fights would it take?

The cave walls shifted again, shadows forming more beasts—larger, stronger, more ferocious than before.

“Your training begins now.”

The figure vanished, leaving Han surrounded by monsters.

Han stood up, his body trembling but his eyes filled with fire. Be it one day or eighty years, he would survive.

“I’ll break this damn boulder. Even if it takes me a lifetime.”

The beasts roared, rushing at him.

Han charged back, fists blazing with green energy.