Revan took a slow breath, steadying himself as he moved through the dense forest, his senses still struggling to adjust to the sheer depth of his awareness. Every scent, every sound, every shift in the wind felt magnified, like the world had been peeled back and exposed in a way he had never experienced before. His ears flicked involuntarily at the distant rustle of leaves, and his tail swayed behind him with a mind of its own. Every motion felt foreign, yet instinctive at the same time, a paradox he couldn’t fully comprehend.

The greatsword on his back weighed heavily against his shoulders, but not in the way he had expected. It wasn’t a burden. If anything, it felt like an extension of himself, a weapon that belonged to him as naturally as his own claws. Yet despite the comfort of the weapon’s presence, his body betrayed him at every turn.

His steps were too forceful, his balance slightly off. When he stepped over a fallen log, his foot landed harder than intended, sending a small shockwave through his legs. His muscles responded with more force than necessary, nearly overcompensating when he caught himself. He growled in frustration, his sharp fangs bared instinctively.

Simple movements felt like he was fighting against his own strength, as if his body had evolved beyond what his mind was ready to handle. He had always been strong before, but this was different. This wasn’t just enhanced strength—it was an entirely new level of power that he had yet to master. His mind still functioned on human limits, but his body had no such restrictions. Every movement required adjustment, every step had to be measured. If he didn’t learn to control himself soon, he would end up destroying more than just fallen logs.

Magic was an entirely different beast. The moment he had accessed his status screen, he had felt the energy simmering beneath his skin—raw, untamed, waiting to be wielded. Celestial magic. It wasn’t like the crude arcane force he had imagined magic to be; it was something alive, something woven into his very being. It pulsed beneath his skin like an unseen heartbeat, demanding to be acknowledged.

Revan stopped in a clearing and inhaled slowly, focusing inward. He had felt a small flicker of magic earlier when he had first tested it, but the power had been volatile, uncontrollable. This time, he would take it slow. He extended a clawed hand, reaching for the warmth within himself, trying to summon the energy deliberately instead of forcing it out.

A golden flicker appeared, hovering just above his palm. The moment he acknowledged it, the energy flared, burning brighter, searing against his skin. He clenched his teeth and tried to mold it into something usable, but the more he tried to shape it, the more unstable it became. The glow twisted unnaturally, flickering wildly, before bursting apart in a crackling explosion of light. The blast sent him tumbling backward, the force knocking the breath from his lungs as he hit the ground. His mane was slightly singed, the scent of burned fur lingering in the air.

He groaned, pushing himself up onto his elbows, shaking off the shock. That had gone worse than the first time. His tail lashed behind him in irritation as he sat up fully, rubbing a hand over his face. If this was what using magic felt like, then he was in for a long and painful learning curve.

But he wouldn’t stop. He couldn’t afford to.

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He grabbed hilt of his greatsword as he pushed himself upright. The weapon was still embedded in the dirt, exactly where he had planted it before attempting his magic. It was a massive blade, far larger than what any ordinary human could wield, yet in his hands, it felt right. He drew it from the earth with a slow, deliberate motion, the weight settling into his grip like a reassuring promise. This, at least, was something he understood.

Swinging the weapon was a different issue entirely. He had tested a few strikes earlier, trying to measure his strength. The first attempt had cleaved straight through a fallen tree, splitting it cleanly in half. The second had carved deep into the ground, throwing dirt and debris several feet into the air. Every time he swung, it felt as though he was fighting against his own power, constantly overcompensating, constantly adjusting. He needed to learn precision, not just brute force.

The wind shifted.

His instincts screamed at him.

Revan turned his head sharply, golden eyes scanning the thick brush at the edge of the clearing. His ears flicked, honing in on the faintest movement, a rustle too controlled to be the wind. His breath slowed, muscles coiling in anticipation. Something was there.

Then he heard the growl.

Low, guttural, predatory.

He readied his greatsword immediately, gripping it with both hands, his stance lowering instinctively. The weight of the blade was reassuring, grounding him in the face of the unknown.

A shape emerged from the underbrush, its form moving with the silent confidence of a hunter. It was large, nearly as tall as Revan himself, covered in sleek black fur, its glowing red eyes locked onto him with unwavering focus. Its limbs were thick with muscle, its claws sharp, its tail swaying in slow, controlled motions. A predator, through and through.

Revan had no idea what this creature was, but it didn’t matter. It wasn’t backing down.

Neither was he.

The beast lunged, closing the distance between them in an instant. Revan moved on instinct, stepping sideways just as the claws slashed through the air where his throat had been moments before. The rush of wind against his fur sent a sharp reminder that if he had reacted even a fraction slower, his life in this new world would have been over before it truly even began.

The creature landed on all fours, circling him, testing him. It wasn’t attacking wildly—it was intelligent, assessing its prey.

Revan adjusted his grip on his sword, feeling the warmth of Celestial magic stirring again. He exhaled, trying to call upon it once more, but not by force. Instead, he let it flow naturally, allowed it to merge with his actions rather than overpower them.

The beast lunged again.

This time, Revan didn’t just dodge. He countered.

He pivoted, bringing the greatsword around in a smooth arc, the golden energy lacing its edge with burning light. The blade met flesh, carving through muscle and bone with a crackling burst of Celestial force. The impact sent the creature skidding across the dirt, its body convulsing before going still.

Revan stood there, gripping the sword tightly, his chest rising and falling in steady breaths. The golden glow around the blade slowly faded, but he had felt it—the connection between his strength and his magic.

He wasn’t fighting against his power anymore.

He was learning to use it.

His grip on the hilt relaxed slightly, his tail swaying behind him as a slow grin spread across his face.

He was getting the hang of this.