The forest-side settlement had never been quiet, but this was different. Shouts overlapped each other, footsteps crashed against packed dirt, and panic spread faster than any rumor ever could. Aerin felt it in the air before he fully understood it—something had gone wrong, badly wrong.
People were running toward the center of the settlement, abandoning tools, baskets, and half-finished work. A guard shouted orders, but his voice cracked halfway through, swallowed by fear. From the edge of the forest, dark shapes burst forward, fast and low, their eyes reflecting light with a predatory gleam.
Forest beasts.
Not the small ones hunters occasionally handled, but grown threats—muscle, claws, and hunger combined. Aerin's chest tightened as he watched the guards rush to intercept, spears shaking slightly in their hands. Their stance looked practiced, yet fragile, like something that only worked when fear stayed away.
It didn't.
One beast slammed into the line, scattering it instantly. Another leapt over a fallen guard, landing deep inside the settlement. Screams followed. Aerin took a step back, instinct urging him to disappear, to survive quietly like he always had.
Then he saw a child fall.
The boy stumbled near a broken cart, frozen as a beast turned toward him. Aerin's thoughts vanished. His body moved on its own, grabbing the child's arm and yanking him sideways. They hit the ground hard, dust filling Aerin's mouth as claws tore through the space they had occupied moments earlier.
Pain flared across his shoulder, but he didn't stop. He pushed the child toward an approaching adult and turned just as the beast locked eyes with him. Its gaze was dull, focused, and terrifyingly calm. Aerin ran—not straight, not fast, but enough to pull its attention away from others.
His lungs burned. His legs screamed. He was weak, always had been, and the beast was closing the distance with terrifying ease. Aerin felt it then—a strange awareness, as if the world itself was watching the exchange.
He vaulted over a low fence and rolled, barely avoiding snapping jaws. The beast skidded, claws tearing into wood. Aerin stumbled to his feet, vision blurring, and for the first time since awakening, he willed something to happen.
Not strength.
Not power.
Change.
The ground shifted just enough. The beast's footing slipped for half a second—nothing dramatic, nothing visible to others. But it was enough. The creature crashed into a support beam, stunned, giving Aerin space to escape.
[Minor resonance detected.]
[Synchronization increased: 0.03%.]
He didn't see the message. He didn't have time.
A sudden pressure washed over the settlement, heavy and suffocating, like the air itself had thickened. Aerin staggered as several beasts froze mid-movement, ears flattening as if sensing a superior presence.
Then they arrived.
Three figures stepped out from the forest path, calm and unhurried, as if chaos did not exist around them. Their clothes were worn but refined, weapons carried with effortless familiarity. The air around them felt different—stable, controlled.
Strong cultivators.
One of them raised a hand. The nearest beast collapsed as if crushed by invisible weight. Another cultivator moved, his blade flashing once, clean and precise. Blood hit the dirt, and the creature never even screamed.
The remaining beasts tried to flee.
They didn't succeed.
Within moments, the settlement fell into stunned silence, broken only by heavy breathing and distant sobs. The cultivators exchanged brief glances, already assessing damage, casualties, and something deeper—something unseen.
One of them looked toward Aerin.
Not directly.
But close enough.
Aerin felt a chill crawl up his spine.
For the first time since awakening, he realized something clearly.
The world was vast.
The strong were real.
And he was standing at the very bottom—noticed far sooner than he expected.