A profound sense of lightness enveloped Zaylan, a stark contrast to the grueling agony that had preceded it.
He felt the surge of mana, refined and stabilized, circulating within his Dantian, a core of nascent power that pulsed with a quiet, vibrant energy.
His body, now in Foundation Building Stage 1, felt like a finely tuned instrument. Every muscle, every sinew, hummed with a quiet strength he hadn't known possible.
The fatigue from his arduous journey to the spatial tear had vanished, replaced by an invigorating vitality.
He could run for hours, perhaps days, without tiring. His senses, already heightened, now possessed a clarity that bordered on the supernatural.
He could discern the individual rustle of leaves in the canopy above, the faint scent of decaying wood, and the distant, almost imperceptible murmur of the forest floor.
He stretched, feeling the newfound suppleness in his joints, the effortless extension of his limbs.
He threw a punch into the air, and a faint whoosh followed the rapid movement of his fist, a small testament to the speed he now commanded.
This is it, he thought, a grim satisfaction spreading through him. This is real power. Not just an ability, but a fundamental change.
The countdown to the corrupted beings was still ticking, but he no longer felt like a lamb to the slaughter. He was a weapon being forged.
As the immediate afterglow of his breakthrough began to subside, a new sensation pricked at his heightened awareness. It wasn't the ambient mana, nor the familiar hum of the spatial tear. It was something else.
A discordant thrumming, faint at first, then growing stronger, coming from deeper within the forest, away from the tear. It felt... wrong. Like static on a perfect signal.
He consulted his internal System display, focusing on the subtle energy readings.
Nothing explicit, but his cultivated senses, sharper than any ability user's, recognized the unique signature. Corrupted mana.
The words from the Radiant Figure echoed in his mind: "Corrupted beings, born of this mana, will soon begin to spawn from these tears."
His two-week deadline wasn't just a threat; it was now a tangible, approaching reality.
He crept forward, his movements silent, each step placing his weight with effortless grace. The forest, once a haven of raw mana, now felt tainted.
The discordant thrumming grew louder, accompanied by a faint, sickly sweet odor – something like decay and ozone mixed with cloying honey.
He moved through the dense undergrowth, his eyes scanning, his enhanced hearing straining.
Then he saw it.
Through a break in the trees, a creature emerged from the shadows. It was grotesquely malformed, vaguely canine in shape but with too many limbs, twisted and elongated. Its fur was patchy, sloughing off in places to reveal raw, pulsating flesh.
Its eyes, too numerous, glowed with a malevolent, unnatural green light, constantly shifting and darting. A low, guttural growl, thick with something not entirely organic, rumbled in its throat.
It was a corrupted being. The System hadn't named them, but Zaylan instinctively knew. This was what the Radiant Figure had warned them about.
The creature moved with a jerky, unnatural gait, sniffing at the ground, its movements erratic and predatory.
It seemed to be attracted by the mana itself, drawn to the vibrant life force of the forest. And it was heading straight for him.
Zaylan's heart hammered, but there was no fear, only a cold, exhilarating surge of adrenaline.
This was it. His first true test. His first fight as a cultivator. He stood his ground, letting the monster approach, carefully gauging its speed and unnatural strength.
He could feel the raw, corrupted mana radiating from it, a twisted version of the pure energy he now held within his Dantian.
The creature snarled, its many eyes fixing on him, a flash of predatory hunger. It lunged, a surprisingly fast, low charge, its twisted claws extended, aiming for his chest.
Time seemed to slow. Zaylan didn't think; he moved. His Physical Refinement, now significantly enhanced by his breakthrough to Stage 1, allowed his muscles to react with impossible speed.
He sidestepped, a blur of motion, letting the creature's initial lunge carry it past him. As it stumbled, he brought his reinforced fist around, aiming for the soft underbelly.
His punch connected with a sickening wet thud. The sheer force, far beyond normal human capability, sent a shockwave through the creature.
It yelped, a high-pitched, guttural sound, and was thrown several meters, crashing into a thick tree trunk with enough force to splinter the bark. It lay there, twitching, its limbs splayed at unnatural angles.
Zaylan stood panting, his fist aching but unbroken. He stared at the felled creature, then at his hand.
He hadn't used any flashy mana constructs, no spells, just pure, unadulterated physical power. This was the strength of Foundation Building. This was the advantage of his unique cultivation path.
The creature, against all odds, began to stir, its twisted body beginning to knit itself back together with unsettling speed. Its many eyes, though dim, still glowed with malice. It was regenerating.
Zaylan realized with a jolt that his physical blows, while powerful, weren't enough to permanently stop it. He needed something more. He needed to apply mana.
He looked at the creature, then at his own mana-filled Dantian. He had a stable reservoir now, a foundational stage.
He had heard about mana users channeling energy, but how did he do it? How did a cultivator, whose essence was internal refinement, project that power outwards?
He closed his eyes for a fraction of a second, focusing on the creature, then on the mana within.
He pictured it surging through his arm, coating his fist, not as a spell, but as a concentrated burst of his own cultivated energy.
He opened his eyes and charged.
The corrupted being, still regenerating, let out a hissing growl and tried to scramble to its feet. Zaylan was faster.
He leaped, channeling mana to his legs for an explosive burst of speed, and delivered a devastating kick directly to its head. This time, his foot glowed with a faint, almost imperceptible light, a subtle shimmer of concentrated mana.
The impact was bone-shattering. The creature's head exploded in a shower of dark, viscous fluid and corrupted mana, its body going limp before it even hit the ground.
The sickly sweet smell intensified for a moment, then began to dissipate, replaced by the cleaner scent of the forest.
Immediately, a crisp, mental notification appeared in Zaylan's internal vision:
[Corrupted Being defeated! Mana absorption initiated.]
[Mana gained: 0.05 units. Current Mana Saturation: 0.05% (Stage 1).]
Zaylan landed, breathing heavily, his leg throbbing with residual energy. He had done it.
He had channeled his mana, not as a spell, but as an enhancement to his physical strike. This was his unique application of power, born from his cultivation path. He wasn't a wizard, nor a runemaster. He was a cultivator, and his body was the ultimate weapon.
The subtle mana absorption from defeating the creature, though minute, was a profound discovery. He could grow stronger not just by meditating, but by fighting.
He stood over the disintegrating remains of the first corrupted being he had encountered, a strange mix of exhaustion, triumph, and grim determination warring within him. The world had changed. And he had changed with it.
The two weeks were still counting down, but now, he knew he could face what was coming. He wouldn't just survive; he would fight