Chapter 18: First Combat
Beads of sweat rolled down Lester's forehead as he crouched inside the house, his heart hammering in his chest. He took a slow, deliberate breath, trying to calm the rising panic that clawed at the edges of his mind. Who would’ve thought they’d be forced to confront a monster so soon?
Outside, the green binturong paced back and forth like a predator hunting its prey. Its dark fur rippled with muscle, and its glowing crimson eyes scanned the ground with an eerie focus, sniffing out any trace of its quarry. The beast was unsettling, every move deliberate and calculated, its yellowed teeth glistening as saliva dripped onto the dirt. The creature’s mere presence sent shivers down Lester's spine.
"We have to kill it!" Patrick whispered, his voice tinged with a strange, almost excited energy. His hands trembled, not from fear but from anticipation.
Lester’s mind worked furiously, assessing the situation. “Fine,” he said, his voice low and steady, “but we need a proper plan. We can’t just rush in.”
The binturong, unaware of the conversation inside, continued its pacing, its massive paws making soft thuds as it circled their home like a predator toying with its prey. I had smelled the presence of the two, and it was hungry. Its dark green fur blended with the forest, making it look like a part of the natural world come to life—an embodiment of danger.
Steeling himself, Lester stood. “Hmph,” he muttered under his breath, trying to mask his growing anxiety with false bravado. He stepped outside, head held high, though every part of him wanted to shrink away from the impending confrontation. His legs felt chained to the ground, but he forced them to move. He could hear his heartbeat pounding in his ears as he stepped into the open.
The binturong’s attention snapped toward him, its eyes locking onto Lester like a predator identifying its prey. The creature’s mouth opened, sticky strings of saliva dripping from its fangs, its eyes burning with a malevolent hunger. The intensity of the gaze almost made Lester falter. Focus! he commanded himself, pushing back the rising tide of fear.
The air around him shifted as he summoned a protective World Qi layer over his body, its light blue glow flickering in the sunlight. Simultaneously, ethereal tentacles of World Qi sprouted from the ground, latching onto the binturong’s hind legs. The creature snarled and jerked violently as the tentacles wrapped around its legs, momentarily halting its charge.
That brief pause was all they needed.
"Take this, bastard!" Patrick yelled as he burst from the side of the house, his fist glowing with power. His punch landed squarely on the side of the binturong, the impact sending a deep thud reverberating through the clearing. The creature yelped in surprise, the force of the blow knocking it back several steps. From one of the nostrils of the binturong, blood dripped on the dirt beneath it, showing that the impact had done some work to its inner organs.
For a split second, there was hope—maybe they had it under control. But then the binturong’s eyes began to glow. What had been a dull, passive crimson turned into a vivid, terrifying red. With the color change, the fur on its body began to rise as if it was being affected by electricity. It growled faintly as it released a heavy killing intent.
"Watch out!" Lester shouted, but Patrick was already moving.
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The binturong’s body trembled, its muscles bulging grotesquely as newfound strength coursed through it. With an almost supernatural speed, the creature twisted and lunged—not at Patrick, but directly at Lester.
Lester barely had time to react. He could see it all happening in slow motion, the beast’s claws slicing through the air toward him. His tentacles whipped out to block the blow, but they were fragile, no match for the binturong’s overwhelming power. Bang! The creature smashed through his defenses, its claws tearing through his protective World Qi layer like paper. Lester felt the impact before he even registered what had happened. His body flew backward, crashing to the ground with a heavy thud.
The wind was knocked out of him, pain radiating from the gashes across his chest. His head spun, his vision blurred, and for a moment, he wondered if this was how it would end. Although the Qi Layer was broken on impact, it did enough, to prevent the scratches from going further into his body stopping some serious injuries from happening.
"Lester!" Patrick’s voice cut through the haze as he darted toward the binturong.
The creature, now breathing heavily and visibly weakened from the effort, turned its glowing eyes on Patrick. But before it could attack again, Patrick struck.
With a roar, Patrick’s fist slammed into the binturong’s skull with the force of a sledgehammer. Bang! The impact was brutal, and the beast crumpled to the ground, its massive body falling limp like a marionette with its strings cut.
Patrick stood over the beast, chest heaving, but his focus was already on Lester. He ran to his friend’s side, kneeling down as Lester lay sprawled on the ground, breathing shallowly. A long scratch ran down his chest, blood soaking into his shirt, but he was alive.
"You okay, dude?" Patrick asked, his voice thick with concern.
Lester nodded weakly, his eyes still wide with shock. "I’m... I’m alive," he rasped, every word an effort. His chest ached with each breath, but the pain wasn’t the worst part. The worst part was the realization that had been gnawing at him since the fight began—he was too weak. If Patrick hadn’t been there, he would’ve been dead, killed by a creature that was far from the most dangerous thing lurking in the wilderness.
Lester’s hands clenched into fists as he lay there, staring up at the sky. His breath came in ragged gasps, but his mind was racing. He had almost died, and the binturong, for all its terrifying power, was nothing compared to the monsters roaming the world now.
Patrick helped him sit up, his expression still serious. "You did good," Patrick said, trying to reassure him. "We beat it."
But Lester didn’t feel like they had won. I’m too weak. The thought echoed in his mind like a mantra. The world was evolving, and beasts were becoming stronger, and deadlier. If he didn’t find a way to keep up, he would be left behind. And next time, there might not be anyone around to save him.
He glanced at Patrick, who had proven his strength today. He had moved like lightning, his punches devastating, his presence in the battle decisive. Lester had his symbols and his tentacles, but compared to Patrick, it felt like he was still crawling while Patrick was already running. He understood that the cultivation technique that Patrick practiced affected the body almost immediately gifting him boons that aid in combat, Lester's would become stronger as time went by, as he created more formations, and explored more of its intricacies and origins.
"I need more power," Lester whispered to himself, the weight of the words heavy in his chest. If he wanted to survive, if he wanted to protect himself and those he cared about, he couldn’t afford to be weak. The path of cultivation wasn’t just about reaching for power—it was about survival. And he was determined not to be left behind.
Patrick stood, offering Lester a hand. "Come on, let’s get you inside. We need to patch you up."
Lester took his friend’s hand, pulling himself to his feet. His body ached, but there was a fire in his eyes now—a determination that hadn’t been there before. He had been given a taste of the danger that awaited them, and he wasn’t going to let it happen again.
As they walked back toward the house, leaving the lifeless binturong behind, Lester’s mind was already racing with thoughts of the next steps. The world was changing, and so was he. But he needed more—more strength, more mastery.