Hope’s steps faltered as he reached the cub. It was no more than 40 centimeters long, its pitch-black fur gleaming faintly in the dim light of the cavern. Its tiny body shivered, and as he walked closer, he noticed its eyes—gray swirled with flecks of black. The cub’s fragile frame and wide, innocent eyes struck a chord deep within him, a place he didn’t often dare to acknowledge.

He knelt down slowly, his body aching from the battle. His blood, mixed with the panther’s, dripped onto the cold stone floor. The metallic scent of death hung heavy in the air, and the cavern, once so alive with shadows and movement, now felt oppressively silent. Only the faint whimper of the cub broke the quiet.

His gaze flickered back to the panther’s lifeless body, lying just meters away. Its sleek fur was matted with blood, the deep gash from his blade a cruel reminder of his victory. But was it really a victory? His chest tightened as the weight of his actions settled over him like a suffocating shroud. He had killed the mother—this cub’s protector and provider—for the sake of a sect mission. A mission he had barely questioned, a task he had taken on without a second thought.

And now here he was, facing the consequences of his choices in the form of this helpless creature. The guilt gnawed at him, an unfamiliar and unwelcome companion.

He crouched down, his trembling hand reaching out toward the cub. The little creature flinched at first, but then, perhaps sensing no immediate threat, it hesitated. Slowly, cautiously, it began to edge closer to him. Its small paws made soft, tentative steps on the blood-slick stone, and Hope could see its ribs beneath its thin coat of fur. It looked at him, not with fear, but with something that made his stomach churn—trust.

The cub licked his bloodied boots, its tiny tongue swiping at the mixture of his blood and its mother’s. Hope’s throat tightened, and he swallowed hard, his vision blurring for a moment.

“What am I supposed to do with you?” he murmured, his voice barely audible over the pounding of his heart. The cub didn’t answer, of course. It simply looked up at him, its gray-black eyes unblinking, as though waiting for him to make a decision.

Hope’s thoughts churned in turmoil. He had never stopped to consider the aftermath of his actions before. The lives he had taken in pursuit of power or obligation had always been nameless, faceless obstacles. But now, faced with this small, fragile life—a life directly impacted by his blade—he couldn’t ignore the consequences.

If he left the cub here, it would die. It wouldn’t even take long. Without its mother, it had no chance of surviving in this harsh, unforgiving world. And the cruelest part? That was his fault. He had created this situation, orphaned this creature, and now he was the one who had to live with it.

The cub took another shaky step toward him, its tiny frame trembling from cold or fear—perhaps both. Hope clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms as he fought an internal battle. Part of him wanted to leave, to walk away and never look back. This wasn’t his problem. It wasn’t his responsibility. But another part of him, the part that felt the weight of his guilt like a stone in his chest, wouldn’t let him.

Stolen novel; please report.

He reached out and gently scooped the cub into his hands. Its small body was warm but frail, and it didn’t resist. Instead, it nestled against him, its tiny head resting against his bloodied chest. The trust it showed him, despite everything, was almost unbearable.

“I’m sorry” he whispered, his voice breaking. He didn’t know if he was apologizing to the cub, to its mother, or to himself. Maybe all three.

As he stood, the weight of the cub in his arms felt heavier than it should have. He took a step toward the cavern’s exit but stopped as he approached the mother’s body. Her lifeless eyes seemed to stare at him, accusing, condemning. His chest tightened again, and he shifted the cub in his arms, using one hand to cover its eyes.

“You don’t need to see this” he muttered, more to himself than to the cub. His voice was hoarse, each word laced with bitterness and regret.

He stepped over the mother’s body carefully, unwilling to let the cub catch even a glimpse. The thought of the little creature seeing its mother’s broken body twisted his gut in a way he hadn’t expected.

The cavern was deathly quiet as he made his way toward the exit. Each step felt heavier than the last, his body screaming in protest from the injuries he had sustained. His Qi reserves were nearly depleted, and the throbbing pain from his wounds was a constant reminder of how close he had come to losing his life in this fight. Yet, despite his exhaustion, he held the cub close, shielding it from the cold wind that swept through the cavern’s entrance.

As he emerged into the fading light of the outside world, the fresh air hit him like a wave. It was cold and sharp, but it carried the faint scent of the river nearby. He headed toward it, his steps unsteady but determined. The cub stirred slightly in his arms, its tiny claws gripping weakly at his torn clothes.

When he reached the riverbank, he set the cub down gently on the soft grass. It looked up at him with those same trusting eyes, and he felt another pang of guilt. He knelt by the water, splashing it onto his face and arms, washing away the blood and grime that clung to him. The cool water stung his wounds, but he welcomed the pain.

It felt deserved.

As he glanced back at the cub, he saw it sitting quietly, its head tilted as it watched him. It didn’t cry or whimper, just sat there, waiting. Hope let out a shaky breath and sat down beside it, his legs folding beneath him.

“What am I going to do with you?” he asked softly. The cub blinked up at him, as if the answer was obvious.

He couldn’t leave it here. That much was clear. Whether it was guilt, responsibility, or something else entirely, he couldn’t abandon this creature. He had taken its family; the least he could do was give it a chance at life.

“I guess… you’re coming with me” he said, more to himself than to the cub. It gave a small sound, somewhere between a mewl and a purr, and pressed itself against his side. Hope reached out and gently stroked its fur, his hand trembling slightly.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the world in shades of gold and crimson, Hope sat by the river with the cub nestled against him. The weight of his actions still hung heavy on his shoulders, but for the first time in what felt like an eternity, he allowed himself a moment of stillness.

He looked down at the cub, its tiny body warm against his own, and silently made a promise:

‘I will protect you.’