The beast roared, charging toward me with a ferocity that froze every muscle in my body. I forced myself to move, diving sideways as its jagged antlers swept past, close enough that I could feel the air shift. The landing was brutal—I hit the dirt hard, scraping my palms and knocking the breath out of me. Scrambling to my feet, I tried to shake off the panic clawing at my chest.

This wasn’t sparring with Thea. This wasn’t a human fight with predictable moves or hesitation. This was something raw, something primal. It wasn’t here to win. It was here to kill.

My heart hammered in my chest as the beast turned, moving with an unnatural grace that belied its massive frame. Before I could steady myself, it lunged again, claws slicing through the space where my legs had been just seconds before. I jumped, barely clearing the strike, and landed awkwardly, my legs wobbling as pain shot through my ankles.

It snarled, its needle-like teeth snapping together in frustration. My limbs felt heavy, my breathing ragged. Every dodge was a fraction of a second too slow, every movement clumsy. This wasn’t a fight—it was survival. Pure, desperate survival.

The beast charged again, and instinct overrode fear. I stepped forward rather than back, channeling every ounce of energy I had into my fist as I aimed for its side. The impact was sharp and jarring, pain exploding up my arm as my knuckles cracked against its bark-like hide. A fissure formed, but it was small—too small. The beast staggered but didn’t fall. Its amber eyes flared with fury, and it swiped at me with a massive claw. I stumbled back, the wind from its attack throwing me off balance.

My knuckles throbbed, the skin split and raw. This isn’t working. It’s too strong. I can’t brute force this.

I gritted my teeth, forcing the panic to the edges of my mind. “Come on,” I muttered through clenched teeth, my voice shaking. “Think.”

The energy in my Grand Channel churned, circulating faster as my breathing steadied. My senses sharpened—the faint rustle of leaves, the flicker of light across the beast’s hide, the rhythmic thud of its steps. For a fleeting moment, it felt like the world slowed. And then I saw it—a tree, splintered and leaning precariously from the beast’s earlier charge.

The beast lunged again, its antlers gleaming. I sidestepped, narrowly avoiding the blow, and lured it toward the fallen tree. It charged with a deafening roar, smashing through the splintered wood. The impact left it momentarily stunned, its massive body shaking off debris as it tried to regain focus.

I didn’t hesitate.

With a roar of my own, I charged, driving my fist into the fissure I’d created earlier. Pain shot up my arm, but I didn’t stop. I struck again and again, the energy coursing through my limbs, amplifying each blow. The beast howled, a sound so raw and guttural it sent shivers down my spine. Its claws lashed out wildly, but I clung to its side, my fists pounding into the crack like a hammer on stone.

The bark-like armor began to splinter, giving way under the relentless assault. Blood—its dark, tar-like ichor—splattered across my arms and face. My own blood mixed with it as the skin on my knuckles tore further with each strike. My breaths came in ragged gasps, my vision narrowing to the task in front of me.

The beast buckled, its massive legs trembling as it fell partially onto its side. But it wasn’t done—it wouldn’t go quietly. Its claws flailed, raking across my back, searing pain spreading like wildfire across my skin. I screamed but refused to let go.

With a guttural yell, I planted my feet against its trembling body and plunged my hands into the fissure. The warmth of its pulsing flesh made bile rise in my throat, but I didn’t let myself think. I grabbed at sinews, tearing chunks free with a primal desperation. The beast thrashed beneath me, its wails warbling into something almost pitiful, almost human.

My fingers slick with blood and ichor, I drove my fist deep into its exposed side one last time. Something brittle snapped under my grip—its ribs? Its spine? I didn’t care.

The beast’s movements slowed, its cries fading into a weak, rattling wheeze. Finally, its massive body sagged against the forest floor, motionless.

I stumbled back, falling to my knees as my legs gave out. My chest heaved, my arms trembling, my entire body screaming in protest. My knuckles were raw, the skin torn and bleeding, the pain a dull, persistent throb.

I stared at the lifeless creature, its amber eyes now dim and empty. Relief didn’t come. Triumph didn’t come. All I felt was exhaustion, a hollow ache settling in my chest.

“Well…” I rasped, my voice hoarse. “That sucked.”

An emotionless voice sounded from above. “You have won. If you can, return through the way you came.”

My entire body screamed in protest, but I forced myself upright, limping toward the stone elevator. The clashes and cries of other battles echoed faintly in the coliseum, a haunting reminder of the brutal world I’d been thrust into.

When the elevator descended, I handed my orb to the waiting attendants. Their glances flicked over me, no doubt noting the dark ichor and sinew plastered to my body. The healers hovering nearby moved toward me with professional annoyance, but I brushed them off. My orb now displayed an extra five points, bringing my total to a measly fifty.

I trudged toward the familiar spot where Thea and Elric waited, mentally preparing for the inevitable torture that would come with Elric’s “healing.”

Thea noticed me first, her storm-gray eyes widening in shock. She rushed over, Elric hot on her heels. “What are you covered in?” she asked, recoiling slightly at the sight of the blackened gore clinging to my clothes and skin.

“You should see the other guy,” I said, attempting a grin. No one laughed. “What? Really, that thing was horrifying. You should’ve seen it. Oh, by the way—I fought a beast.”

Both of them froze, their expressions shifting from surprise to disbelief.

“Why?” Elric asked, his brow furrowing. “You didn’t think you could take anyone else on?”

I hesitated. “No, I… I needed a break. From hurting people, I mean.” My voice dropped slightly before I cleared my throat and continued. “Plus, there are rewards for ranking up in both beast battles and regular fights. I think we should try doing both. Who knows what we’ll get as we move further up.”

Elric nodded slowly, his thoughtful expression returning. “Alright. I can ask around and see what others know about beast rankings. But first—” He broke into the kind of smile that sent chills down my spine. “Let’s get you patched up. Lie down.”

“Oh no—wait—”

Before I could protest further, I was laid out on the bench, and Elric got to work. His energy flowed into me, searing and soothing all at once. It was effective, I’d give him that. Still, the sensation of bones knitting together and skin sealing shut never got less unsettling.

When he finally stepped back, his expression shifted to something closer to awe. “Wow.”

“What is it?” Thea asked, leaning closer.

“It’s… you two. You’re healing so fast, I can barely believe it—even seeing it myself.” He gestured faintly toward me. “The energy flowing through your body is… purer somehow. Stronger. It’s like it’s helping the process along.”

“Well,” Thea chimed in, “we did change quite a lot. Before, I could barely stand against anyone. Now, I can hold my own against bottom rankers, even without a system.”

Elric shook his head, his expression still incredulous. “It’s not just that. My own energy—when I channel it to heal you—it feels different. Like your cultivation method is improving it. Maybe there are still benefits we don’t know about.”

I sat up with a groan, wincing at the lingering aches. “Just wait until you make your Grand Channel, Elric. You’ll be the first healer to not surrender and win fights without hurting anyone. Just cure them mid-battle. All you’d have to do is get close enough to heal them.” I smirked. “They’d be doubled over in pain, perfectly intact but miserable.”

Thea chuckled softly, but Elric froze, his eyes narrowing slightly as if deep in thought.

“Elric—” I waved a hand, trying to snap him out of it. “I was joking. Don’t turn your healing magic into some twisted form of torture.”

He blinked, shaking off whatever idea had been brewing in his mind. “Right,” he said, though I wasn’t entirely convinced.

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Desperate to change the subject, I asked, “Did you already finish your match?”

Elric turned back to me, his expression softening. “Yeah. Thea paid for my surrender. But… the mage I fought? They were almost desperate. They almost had time to fire a spell before I yielded.”

I paused, considering his words. “You don’t think the Healers’ Guild—”

“It’s possible,” Elric cut in, his voice calm but edged with unease. “Some people might be targeting me where I can’t be… protected.”

“You mean fawned over,” Thea said with a sly smirk.

“Well, either way,” Elric continued, brushing her comment aside, “I’m safe out here. I have some ideas I want to work on.”

I prayed to whatever forces governed this world that those ideas weren’t inspired by my earlier sarcastic suggestion. “Alright, man, stay safe. Try to find some fangirls to walk you back,” I said, offering a half-hearted salute as he waved goodbye and headed off.

Thea turned to me, wrinkling her nose as she eyed my tattered, bloodstained clothes. “You need new clothes… and a bath.”

“Rude,” I shot back, before flashing her my most exaggerated pleading face. “You paying?”

She rolled her eyes but smiled. “Yeah, yeah. Come on, let’s get you some clothes first. And this time, we’ll see if we can get them cleaned too.”

We made our way to the clothing shop, where we found basic training outfits that fit well enough. The shopkeeper offered a cleaning and repair service for less-destroyed clothes, but mine were too far gone. Thea handed over her old clothes along with some additional items for cleaning while changing into her new outfit. I followed suit, the fresh fabric feeling like a blessing after the day’s events.

From there, we headed to the bathhouse, parting ways to clean ourselves up thoroughly. The warm water worked wonders on my aching muscles and grimy skin, washing away layers of dirt, blood, and beast ichor. By the time we regrouped outside, we both looked and felt far more human. Thea’s points were now sitting at 400, a small price for the much-needed refresh.

There was still time before sunset, but my mind was elsewhere. I glanced at the bag of manuals I’d purchased earlier, their weight a constant reminder of my plan.

With the prospect of keeping everything a surprise, I resolved to stay up after Thea fell asleep. If I could figure out something meaningful from the skills in these manuals, it would make the perfect gift. If not… well, she’d still appreciate the books. Either way, I was determined to try. For now, though, I turned to her. “You want to get a room to cultivate for a bit? Feels too early to head back.”

She raised an eyebrow, smirking. “I assume I’m paying?”

I grinned. “Like you’d ever complain about a chance to cultivate. Plus, I want to try more of the Grand Carving technique. We should experiment with spiral patterns—see if they really increase the energy flow.”

Her storm-gray eyes lit up as she beamed. “You’re right. Let’s go.”

We headed to the training area and got a beginner room. Once inside, I settled into a meditative stance and focused inward, sensing the structure of my Grand Channel and the energy coursing through it. After a few deep breaths, I began forming another needle. The process was still challenging, but my previous experience made it feel slightly more natural this time.

The needle formed, sharp and precise, as I began the painstaking task of carving a corkscrew pattern into my channel. The pain was still there, raw and biting, but my focus drowned it out. The grooves of the spiral took shape, leading up to the reservoir node in my chest. Each movement of the needle required deliberate precision, but I could already sense the effect as I worked—the energy within the channel flowed faster, riding the carved grooves like water in a newly carved canal.

Eventually, I finished the pattern leading to the chest node. The result left me stunned. The energy rushed through my Grand Channel with a speed and smoothness I hadn’t experienced before, pooling briefly in the chest node before dispersing outward. With this enhanced flow, I could diffuse more energy into my body without constant focus, allowing me to concentrate on battle instead of micromanaging my internal force. My combat potential had undoubtedly risen.

But the needle was still intact. I wasn’t finished yet.

“Thea?” I called softly, opening my eyes just enough to see her in focus. She stirred slightly, a faint sheen of sweat on her forehead, but her breathing remained steady. I figured she was listening. “I’m going to start a reservoir pattern in my right shoulder now. I should be able to finish before the needle fades.”

She nodded silently, and I returned to my work, deciding not to disturb her further. The room was quiet except for the faint hum of energy, and I let myself become completely absorbed in the task ahead.

I barely finished the node in my shoulder before the needle vanished, its energy surging through me one last time—coursing through my bones, tendons, and organs like a river carving its way through stone. My Grand Channel was back at twenty percent, so I decided to start refilling it, figuring Thea would make the same decision. Once the world energy fully saturated my Grand Channel, I opened my eyes and found her gaze fixed on me, intense and unwavering.

“Ready?” Thea asked.

“Yep, let’s start.”

And so, we began the cycle again, repeating it over and over. By the time we were kicked out of the training hall, we had both carved the new node, spiral pattern, and reached fifty percent of our internal strength capacity in the Grand Channel. It seemed even cultivation moved faster with the spiral patterns.

Walking back to camp, we chatted all the way.

“That sparring session was insane!” Thea bounced on her feet like a kid who’d just discovered the world’s biggest candy store.

I smiled, catching her contagious enthusiasm. “I’ve never felt my force move like that before. Every fight—it had so much power behind every attack.”

“I know! And all of this, every step—we’re making it together.” She glanced at me, her eyes shimmering with gratitude. “Thank you, Peter. Without you, none of this would’ve been possible. I could’ve reached core formation without ever realizing I could carve my own path.”

“We’re a team, Thea. I don’t think I would’ve survived this long without you. There’s no need to thank me.”

The sunset painted the horizon in vibrant hues of gold and crimson as we strolled back to our spot near camp, the warm glow wrapping around us like a comforting blanket.

“Tomorrow you’ll be eighteen, huh? Are you excited to get your system?” I asked. “Finally combining the benefits of our methods with the boosts from stats and techniques?”

“Yep!” She beamed, practically glowing with excitement. “As long as I’m not a late bloomer, tomorrow morning I should wake up to my first system notification. I just hope I get a warrior blessing.”

“No kidding. You’d make a terrible healer. Probably causing more harm than—ow!” I flinched as her playful punch landed squarely on my arm. “Hey, I was just agreeing with you!” I said, rubbing the spot and glancing over to see her smirking at me.

“Sure you were,” she replied, rolling her eyes.

I chuckled as a thought struck me. “I guess we’ll have to revise your full title.”

“What?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Right now, you’re Princess Grandmaster Thea. But if you become a warrior,” I paused, grinning at my own comedic genius, “you’ll be Warrior Princess Grandmaster Thea.”

The silence that followed was so thick it might as well have taken on a physical form.

Thea sighed, the sound heavy with resignation. “Are you ever going to drop that?”

I looked at her, schooling my face into mock seriousness. “Thea?”

Her expression shifted, expectant.

“Never. I will never drop it,” I declared, bursting into laughter.

She shook her head with a faint smile as we continued talking, the sun dipping lower, casting long shadows. Other recruits were filtering back to camp as the moon began to rise, its silver glow softening the edges of the world around us. Over time, Thea’s words became slower, her voice softer, until eventually, her breathing evened out and she drifted into quiet sleep.

I stood, careful not to wake her, and walked a short distance away for privacy, carrying the bag of books. Settling onto a flat patch of ground, I decided to start with Bark Skin.

The manual was the shortest—only three pages long—and seemed manageable despite my slow pace with the unfamiliar characters. Besides, it had images, though they turned out to be disappointingly unhelpful. One depicted a hulking figure in heavy armor, possibly included for style rather than instruction.

The technique described the ability to envelop oneself in a thick, hide-like barrier of energy. It was a defensive enhancement that grew stronger as the ability leveled up. It increased both defense and endurance stats—concepts that meant little to me since I had no system screen of my own.

Still, my focus wasn’t on stats. I was hunting for something specific: the logic underpinning the technique. Surely whoever had written this manual had included some hint of how it worked.

Skimming wasn’t an option. I still struggled to read the unfamiliar symbols. After painstaking effort, I finally found it—a small section near the end offering the writer’s interpretation of the technique:

"The system imparts knowledge not just through words but through impressions—a convergence of image, sensation, and instinct, etched into the mind like a waking dream. In the case of 'Bark Skin,' it presents a vivid mental image: energy welling up from deep within, emerging as a force that coats the body in a protective sheath.

This force, as I interpret it, is externalized through the skill, bonding to the skin as if it were an extension of the body itself. Early in my practice, this energy dissipated quickly, leaving me utterly drained, my reserves depleted until I rested. Over time, as the ability matured, the energy adhered more efficiently, though it brought an unusual side effect—a pungent odor clinging to my skin after each advancement, requiring thorough cleansing to remove.

Yet, with each repetition, the technique refined itself, allowing my body to retain more of this energy, growing stronger as it adhered more seamlessly."

My heart thudded as I reread the passage. It sounded familiar. Too familiar to ignore.

The mention of energy dissipating completely—leaving nothing behind until rest replenished it—triggered a realization. Memories of our training surfaced, those moments when Thea and I traded jabs about who needed a shower more. I’d assumed it was just sweat from the relentless pace of cultivation, and it was… but not just sweat. There had been something else.

During intentional core failure, the energy didn’t dissipate in a simple burst—it flowed outward, coursing through every part of me. Bones, tendons, organs—it reached everywhere before vanishing.

This was the same process described in the book. The more the writer used their skill, the more it leveled up. And as it leveled, the energy stuck to their skin more effectively.

But ours was different.

When I expelled energy, it didn’t stop at the skin. It went deeper, flooding every fiber of my body. The implications were staggering.

This wasn’t just Bark Skin.

I drew in a sharp breath, the words forming in my mind like a revelation carved in stone.

“Body Refinement.”