Beauty and Might: Heavenly Flames

After exchanging a few more pleasantries, the three disciples began gathering their things, preparing to continue their hunt. Zhou Tian cast a glance at Li Yan as they packed up. ”You sure you want to stay out here alone?”

Li Yan smirked, his eyes gleaming with quiet intensity. ”I am.”

Huo Ren gave him a brief nod, recognizing the confidence in Li Yan’s words. It was clear this so-called newcomer wasn’t ordinary. Though Huo Ren still couldn’t see through Li Yan’s strength, he had the sense to avoid pressing further.

With their belongings in order, the trio turned and disappeared into the forest, their white robes fading into the shadows between the trees.

Li Yan lingered, watching until they were gone. Their warning about Tier-1 beast packs echoed in his mind.

”Tier-1 beast packs, huh?” A faint thrill stirred inside him.

The thought of facing multiple beasts at once awakened a hunger for greater challenges.

One-on-one duels had sharpened his instincts, but a pack fight promised something else entirely—chaos, pressure, the kind of danger that could push him to new limits.

His cultivation might not rise instantly, but every battle etched new instincts into his bones.

”But first…” Li Yan murmured, narrowing his eyes as he extended his Spiritual Sense outward.

He wasn’t finished here.

The Hunting Ground was still teeming with lone Tier-1 beasts, and he intended to wring every drop of value from this place before stepping into deeper, more dangerous ground. The faint auras of nearby creatures flickered within his thirty-meter radius, beckoning him.

”Still plenty of single targets,” he thought, determination sharpening.

With one last glance toward the direction the disciples had gone, Li Yan set off into the Hunting Ground, hand resting lightly on his sword.

The battles came quickly. A Steelclaw Bear’s massive paw slammed down, splitting the earth where he had stood a moment before.

A Windhorn Stag charged with blinding speed, antlers gleaming like blades.

A Shadowfang Fox leapt from the brush, its fangs flashing toward his throat.

Each encounter forced Li Yan to adapt—dodging, countering, striking back with precise bursts of Qi. The thrill of combat surged through his veins.

With each beast he felled, his confidence grew—not because his cultivation rose, but because his understanding of battle deepened. His reflexes grew keener, his movements more fluid, every victory layering new instincts over the old.

More importantly, his control over his darkness affinity grew clearer, threads of shadow bending naturally under his will. And when he was certain no disciples were near, he dared to weave in flashes of flame.

The fire affinity was too dangerous to reveal openly, but its destructive edge was irresistible. He knew there was a chance the formation around the Tier-1 Hunting Ground might detect it, but uncertainty didn’t outweigh temptation.

Through these fights, Li Yan began to grasp the balance between offense and defense, patience and aggression.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the valley in the deepening shadows of twilight, Li Yan slowed his pace. The forest darkened, the vibrant greens and golds fading into shades of black and blue beneath the night sky.

It was time to rest after a full day of hunting.

He searched for a safe location and soon found one—a ten-foot-tall boulder at his back, with a thick wall of trees pressing in on one side. The layout left only two narrow approaches, both bending into an L-shape, easy to control if beasts attempted an ambush.

”Perfect,” he thought, scanning the area with his Spiritual Sense. Finding no immediate threats, he set to work.

He gathered dry wood, branches, and leaves to build a small campfire. Before lighting it, he closed his eyes and swept his Spiritual Sense outward once more, ensuring no disciples or beasts lingered nearby.

Opening his eyes, he raised his palm toward the woodpile, channeling his fire affinity. A spark ignited in his hand, swelling into a small flame before he flicked it forward. The pile caught instantly, flames leaping to life, painting the rocks and trees in flickering orange light.

Li Yan gave a small nod of approval. He lifted his hand again, his storage ring shimmering as he drew out a simple meal.

Setting it carefully over the fire, he leaned back against the boulder, fatigue tugging at him. But rather than weariness, what settled in his chest was a sense of progress.

Today had tested him—and he had endured. The aroma of roasting meat filled the clearing, rich and comforting.

When the meat was ready, he took a bite. At once, a wave of energy coursed through him, washing away fatigue from the entire day.

His eyes widened slightly. ”So that’s why higher-tier food costs more.”

Each bite didn’t just fill him; it replenished his strength.

When his meal was finished, Li Yan leaned back, firelight dancing in his eyes, and let his mind wander to the day’s results.

”Six beast cores in a single day?” he muttered, rolling one of the glowing beast cores in his hand. The accomplishment felt hollow. At this rate, the task ahead loomed like a mountain.

The memory of Yao Fuhuo surfaced—her calm yet unwavering gaze as she set the challenge before him: one thousand Tier-1 beast cores. At first, the number seemed achievable. But with today’s pace, reality struck hard.

”If I can only gather six a day…” He frowned, doing the math in his head. ”…that took me more than five months to complete the task.”

Too slow. Much too slow.

His grip tightened on the beast core. ”That won’t do. Yao Fuhuo will return in three months. I have to be done before then.”

Failure wasn’t an option. Not for him.

”I’ll need at least twelve cores every day,” he muttered. His eyes gleamed, the campfire reflecting the resolve hardening inside him.

He would need to hunt deeper, push himself harder, take on more dangerous beasts. If the daylight weren’t enough, then the night would have to serve him too.

Stretching his arms, Li Yan rose to his feet. His gaze swept across the valley, now cloaked in shadow. The dangers of night hunting were obvious—but so were the rewards.

He smirked faintly, resolve hardening as he weighed the risks. ”Then I’ll just fight twice as hard. No more wasting daylight… or night.”

With his decision made, Li Yan considered how to draw the magical beasts toward his position.

After a moment of thought, he unsheathed his sword and, with a few clean strokes, brought down a nearby tree. Chopping it into smaller chunks, he dragged the wood closer to the campfire.

A flicker of fire Qi ignited the pile, and soon a towering blaze roared into the night sky. Its light and smoke would carry far—an open invitation to every beast within range.

A crude but effective lure.

Satisfied, Li Yan sat cross-legged beside the fire. His posture was relaxed, but his Spiritual Sense stretched outward in a thirty-meter radius, alert for the faintest disturbance.

His body stilled, yet his mind remained sharp.

He inhaled deeply, drawing the valley’s rich Qi into his core, refining it with steady precision. The night was alive with energy—moonlight spilling across the lakes, winds whispering through the trees, and the distant sounds of beasts roaming freely under the silver glow.

The Hunting Grounds were treacherous but also rich in opportunity.

For several minutes, he cultivated in silence. The flames danced steadily, the scent of smoke and the bright light acting as a beacon in the dark wilderness. Beasts would come. He only had to wait.

And then, a ripple stirred at the edge of his perception. Something had stepped into his Spiritual Sense.

Li Yan’s eyes snapped open, sharp and alert. His hand fell onto the sword resting by his side, and he rose smoothly to his feet.

Sleep was a luxury he could not afford.

Not here. Not now.

A cultivator’s path required constant vigilance. Every moment of danger in this hunting ground was also an opportunity to move closer to his goal—collecting one thousand Tier-1 beast cores. Six were already in his possession, but nine hundred and ninety-four more still stood between him and awakening his next element affinity.

From the treeline, a pair of glowing eyes appeared. A Shadow Wolf slunk forward, its growl rumbling low, the firelight reflecting off its dark fur.

Li Yan tightened his grip on his sword, the corner of his lips tugging into a cold smile.

The wolf crouched low, then lunged, claws gleaming as it pounced through the firelight.

But Li Yan was already moving. Darkness Qi surged into his blade, and with a sharp sidestep, he avoided the beast’s strike. His sword cut a clean arc through the night, trailing dark energy, and bit into the wolf’s neck.

The beast crumpled with a dull thud, lifeless before it hit the ground.

”Too weak,” Li Yan murmured.

Against ordinary Tier-1 beasts, his current cultivation—already at Qi Gathering Realm (Stage 7)—gave him an overwhelming advantage.

And that was without relying on the fire affinity he kept hidden—or the superior Darkness affinity pulsing within him—an affinity he had yet to master fully.

From the wolf’s corpse, a faint glow shimmered. Another beast core emerged, drifting into sight.

Li Yan flicked his wrist, storing both the core and the wolf’s body into his ring. His eyes returned to the treeline, senses sharp, waiting.

The bonfire roared, its light climbing high into the night. Somewhere beyond the shadows, more beasts stirred.

And Li Yan was ready.

”The night had only just begun.”

Li Yan’s Spiritual Sense rippled again. Three new presences emerged from the darkness—a hulking Inferno Lion, another Shadow Wolf, and a Bloodthirsty Fox.

Their eyes glowed with menace, the campfire’s light dancing in their pupils as they spread out, circling him like predators around trapped prey.

Li Yan narrowed his gaze. ”So, was it the firelight that drew them… or the scent of blood?”

The answer didn’t matter. Beasts were here. And hesitation meant death.

The Inferno Lion roared, the air itself trembling as flames gathered in its throat. In the blink of an eye, it unleashed a blazing torrent, the firestorm swallowing the space where Li Yan stood.

His figure blurred. Phantom Dash.

He reappeared just outside the inferno’s edge, but before he could steady his footing, the Shadow Wolf lunged from the right. Its claws slashed like daggers, forcing him to pivot sharply.

His sword intercepted the strike with a ringing clash that sent jolts through his arm, his boots skidding across the dirt.

”It’s stronger than the last one.”

He barely had time to recover when a crimson blur shot from behind. The Bloodthirsty Fox darted forward, zigzagging with unnatural speed. Its fangs snapped at his ankle, nearly tearing through.

He twisted away, narrowly avoiding the bite, and countered with a slash—yet the fox twisted mid-leap, slipping past his blade.

The Inferno Lion was already charging again, its massive frame pounding the ground as its mane flared like a bonfire. Li Yan leapt back—straight into the wolf’s waiting jaws.

Its fangs lunged for his throat.

At the last instant, Li Yan twisted his sword, deflecting the bite, though the impact rattled his arm. The fox exploited the opening, claws slashing across his side. He bent backwards, the strike grazing his robe, leaving a ragged tear.

”Damn!”

No time to breathe. The lion’s maw flared, flames building once more.

Li Yan stomped hard, channeling darkness Qi into his legs. His figure flickered—not to escape, but to strike. In an instant, he bypassed both fox and wolf, reappearing before the lion’s towering bulk.

His blade was already arcing, and dark energy carved a deep diagonal wound across its chest.

The beast howled, staggering but not defeated. Its paw swung like a blazing hammer. Li Yan ducked under the strike, the heat searing so close he smelled burnt earth.

A stray flame grazed his left arm—yet he thrust upward, driving his sword into its underbelly.

With a final, thunderous roar, the Inferno Lion collapsed, its flames sputtering into darkness.

But Li Yan froze, glancing at his arm, burned in the Inferno Lion’s attack—yet no pain followed. Not even a scorch mark. The flames had kissed his skin, but left no trace. ”What…?”