Chapter 18 – The Price of Underestimation
The forest did not change.
The light was the same.
The wind was the same.
The slow rhythm of the world continued as if nothing at all was about to happen.
Only Hao Tian knew that something irreversible was about to begin.
He lay pressed against the damp earth, half-hidden behind a tangle of roots and low brush not far from the bear's den. The bitter scent of crushed herbs clung faintly to his clothes and skin, dulling his natural smell. His breathing was slow, controlled, almost shallow.
Inside the den, the beast slept.
He could hear it.
A deep, heavy rhythm.
Inhale.
Exhale.
Each breath was like air being pushed through a massive bellows.
Hao Tian closed his eyes for a moment and let his thoughts settle.
He reviewed everything again.
The terrain.
The entrance.
The direction of the wind.
The way the beast had walked in.
The position of the bones and scraps outside.
The way its chest had risen and fallen.
"…One clean strike," he thought.
He was not arrogant.
He was not reckless.
But he was also not a coward.
This was not a creature he could fight head-on.
Not without risking his life.
But if he could seriously injure it at the start—if he could cripple it, or at least take away a large part of its strength—then the battle might become something he could survive.
Slowly, carefully, he rose to a crouch.
The sword in his hand felt heavier than usual.
Not because it weighed more.
Because he knew what he was about to do.
He moved.
Each step was placed with care.
No broken branches.
No loose stones.
No unnecessary movement.
The mouth of the den loomed before him, a dark, uneven opening beneath the slanted rock face. The smell inside was thick—blood, fur, damp earth, and something faintly hot, like smoldering stone.
He crept forward inch by inch.
Then he saw it.
The bear lay on its side, half-curled, its massive back rising and falling slowly. Even at rest, it looked like a mound of dark iron wrapped in fur. Old scars crossed its hide. Its claws were thick and chipped. Its jaws were stained dark with dried blood.
Faint heat shimmered around its body.
"…Fire-aspected," Hao Tian realized.
Not strong.
Not obvious.
But there.
This continent's influence.
He tightened his grip on the sword.
If he hesitated, he would die.
If he misjudged, he would die.
If he failed to kill it or cripple it…
He took a breath.
Then another.
Then he moved.
He rushed forward.
Not recklessly.
Not shouting.
All of his strength gathered into a single motion.
He raised the sword—
And brought it down with everything he had.
The blade struck.
It cut.
Deep.
Blood exploded from the wound.
The bear's body convulsed.
A thunderous roar tore out of its throat, shaking dust from the ceiling of the den.
The beast surged to its feet in an instant, half-turning as it did.
But Hao Tian was already moving.
He ripped the sword free and leapt backward as the bear's massive claw smashed into the spot where he had been standing a heartbeat earlier.
The stone floor cracked.
Dust and rock shards flew.
The bear howled.
Not in fear.
In fury.
One of its shoulders was torn open, blood pouring down its side. The wound was deep—deep enough that Hao Tian could see muscle and something darker beneath.
But it was not dead.
Not even close.
It turned toward him.
Its eyes were red.
Not just with rage.
But with heat.
A low, rumbling growl built in its chest.
The air around its mouth shimmered faintly.
"…It's still strong," Hao Tian realized instantly.
Too strong.
Stronger than he had hoped.
The bear charged.
The ground shook.
Hao Tian did not try to block it.
He threw himself to the side.
The beast slammed into the den wall, stone exploding outward, then turned with terrifying speed and swung again.
Hao Tian barely raised his sword in time.
The impact nearly ripped it from his hands.
He was thrown backward, his back slamming into the rough stone wall.
Pain exploded through his shoulders.
He rolled aside just as the bear's jaws snapped shut where his head had been.
He scrambled to his feet, heart pounding.
"…So this is a sixth-stage beast," he thought grimly.
Even injured.
Even bleeding.
Even ambushed.
It was still a monster.
The bear's wound was still pouring blood, but its movements had barely slowed. If anything, it seemed faster, driven by rage and pain.
It charged again.
Hao Tian dodged.
The bear smashed into the ground.
He slashed at its side as he passed.
The blade cut fur and flesh—but did not go deep enough.
The beast roared and backhanded him with its massive forelimb.
He raised his sword to block.
The impact felt like being hit by a falling tree.
His arms went numb.
He was thrown several meters away, crashing into a pile of old bones and debris.
He rolled, coughed, forced himself up.
His chest burned.
His arms trembled.
"…I was too optimistic," he realized.
He had thought:
Low 7th-stage.
A successful ambush.
An injured beast.
That would be enough.
He was wrong.
This was a bear-type beast.
Strength.
Endurance.
Defense.
Even badly wounded, it was still a walking disaster.
The bear snorted.
Heat rolled off its body in waves.
Its breath steamed.
Small sparks flickered briefly around its mouth when it exhaled.
It charged again.
Hao Tian gritted his teeth and ran.
Not away.
To the side.
He led it toward a narrower part of the den, where the ceiling dipped and broken stone littered the ground.
The bear followed, smashing through rocks without slowing.
Hao Tian leapt onto a slanted stone, then jumped again, barely avoiding another swipe.
He slashed downward.
This time, the blade bit deeper.
The bear roared.
Blood splattered across the wall.
But it did not fall.
It only grew more furious.
It reared up.
Its entire body seemed to glow faintly red for a moment.
Then it brought both forelimbs down.
The impact was like an explosion.
The ground cracked.
The shockwave threw Hao Tian off his feet.
He hit the wall hard.
Something in his side screamed in pain.
He tasted blood.
"…Damn it…"
He forced himself up again.
His breathing was heavy now.
His body hurt.
His arms shook.
And the fight had barely begun.
The bear turned toward him again.
Slow.
Heavy.
Relentless.
Blood dripped from its wound.
But its eyes were burning.
It took a step.
Then another.
And Hao Tian finally understood something very clearly:
This was not a hunt anymore.
This was a battle for survival.
He raised his sword.
Tightened his grip.
And prepared to face the full force of a wounded, enraged, fire-aspected, sixth-stage bear-type beast.
The real fight—
Was only just beginning
....
The bear took another step forward.
Then another.
Each movement made the ground tremble.
Hao Tian forced his breathing to slow even as pain throbbed through his ribs and shoulders. His arms still tingled from the earlier impact, and his grip on the sword was not as steady as he would have liked.
"…If this keeps going like this, I die," he thought calmly.
Not with panic.
Not with despair.
Just with cold, clear awareness.
He could not outlast this beast.
Even injured, even bleeding, its endurance was terrifying. Every exchange cost him more than it cost the bear. If he continued trading blows, he would collapse first.
So he changed the way he fought.
Instead of facing it head-on, he began to move.
Not backward.
Sideways.
In arcs.
Always circling.
Always keeping broken stone, uneven ground, and narrow spaces between them.
The bear roared and charged again.
Hao Tian darted to the side at the last moment.
The beast's shoulder slammed into a stone pillar near the den wall.
Cracks spread across it.
The ceiling rained dust.
Before the bear could fully turn, Hao Tian lunged forward and slashed at the already wounded shoulder.
The blade went in deeper this time.
The bear howled in pain and rage, twisting its body violently.
Hao Tian was forced to leap back to avoid being crushed.
Blood was flowing faster now.
The bear's breathing was heavier.
Still strong.
Still terrifying.
But no longer perfect.
"…It's slowing," Hao Tian realized.
Only slightly.
But enough to matter.
The bear charged again.
Hao Tian ran.
Not in a straight line.
He led it across uneven ground, over scattered bones and broken stone. The massive beast stumbled once, then again. It did not fall—but each mistake cost it energy.
It swiped at him.
He ducked under the claw and stabbed upward.
The blade scraped along its ribs.
Not a killing blow.
But another wound.
Another drain.
The bear reared up and smashed both forelimbs down again.
Hao Tian rolled away, but the shockwave still caught him, throwing him hard against the ground.
Pain exploded in his back.
His vision blurred for a moment.
He forced himself up.
The bear was breathing heavily now.
Its chest heaved.
Its movements were no longer as smooth.
Its wound was still bleeding freely.
But its eyes were still burning.
And then—
It charged again.
Slower.
But still deadly.
Hao Tian clenched his teeth and ran straight toward a narrow passage between two large rock formations near the side of the den.
The bear followed.
It was too big.
Its shoulders scraped against stone.
It roared in frustration and forced its way through anyway.
The moment it slowed—
Hao Tian turned and struck.
He plunged the sword into the same wounded shoulder, driving it in as deep as he could.
The bear roared in agony and slammed its head forward.
The impact caught Hao Tian in the chest.
He felt something crack.
He was thrown backward, crashing into the stone wall behind him.
He slid down, gasping.
His vision darkened at the edges.
Blood filled his mouth.
For a moment, he could barely breathe.
"…So strong…" he thought, grimly.
The bear staggered too.
It shook its head, blood spraying.
One of its forelegs trembled.
But it was still standing.
It turned toward him again.
Slow.
Heavy.
But unstoppable.
Hao Tian forced himself to his feet.
Every breath hurt.
Every movement sent pain through his ribs.
His arms felt like lead.
"…This is it," he thought.
No more running.
No more testing.
If he didn't end this now—
He would die here.
He steadied his stance.
Tightened his grip on the sword.
And waited.
The bear charged one last time.
Hao Tian did not dodge.
At the last possible moment, he stepped inside the beast's reach.
He ignored the pain.
Ignored the fear.
And drove the sword upward with everything he had.
The blade went in under the bear's jaw.
Straight into its throat.
The bear's charge carried its own weight forward.
The sword sank deeper.
The beast let out a strangled, gurgling roar.
Its massive body crashed into Hao Tian, throwing him to the ground.
But this time—
It did not rise again.
The bear thrashed.
Once.
Twice.
Then its movements slowed.
Its eyes lost focus.
Its body went still.
Silence filled the den.
Hao Tian lay on the ground, staring at the ceiling, gasping for breath.
For a long time, he did not move.
Then—
Very slowly—
He began to laugh.
Weakly.
Hoarsely.
"…I lived…"
The laughter turned into coughing.
Blood came up.
He groaned and forced himself to sit up.
His chest hurt.
His back hurt.
His arms hurt.
But he was alive.
He looked at the bear's corpse.
"…I really underestimated a sixth-stage beast," he admitted quietly.
Even injured.
Even ambushed.
Even with a slight cultivation advantage.
It had almost killed him.
If it had been faster.
If it had been less enraged.
If it had not been bleeding so much from the start—
He would not be standing here.
He rested for a long time before he dared to move properly.
Then he slowly began to search the den.
The place was larger than it looked from outside.
Bones and scraps were scattered everywhere.
Old, half-rotted animal carcasses.
And—
Human remains.
He did not feel much about that.
This was the forest.
This was reality.
Among the scattered remains, he found several small cloth pouches and money strings that had survived.
He gathered them and counted.
"…One hundred and forty-six silver," he murmured.
More than he had expected.
Then he found herbs.
Growing in cracks in the stone.
And tucked away in places where sunlight barely reached.
One high-grade rank 1 mortal herb.
Three mid-grade rank 1 mortal herbs.
His eyes lit up.
"…This alone was worth the risk," he thought.
Carefully, he harvested them and stored them.
Then he sat down near the wall and finally allowed himself to rest properly.
His body ached.
His mind replayed the fight again and again.
Every mistake.
Every close call.
Every wrong judgment.
"…In real combat, cultivation level alone means nothing," he realized.
Experience.
Judgment.
Terrain.
The nature of the enemy.
All of it mattered.
If he fought like this again without learning—
He would die.
He decided to stay here for a while.
Other beasts would avoid this territory.
This den was safe.
For now.
He dragged some of the bear's thick fur together to make a crude resting place, then sat down and began to breathe slowly, letting his body recover.
Outside, the forest continued as if nothing had happened.
But for Hao Tian—
This was the day he truly stepped into the world of life-and-death struggles.