Time had lost its meaning. When consciousness finally drifted back to Wu Yuan, he found himself lying on his back, staring blankly at the earthen ceiling of the burrow.

“I’m an idiot,” he muttered, his voice raspy. “A complete and utter fool.”

“I knew eating the egg would trigger an Awakening. I was so fixated on the power, the benefits… I completely forgot to ask about the price.”

He shivered, phantom pains still echoing through his nervous system. “It felt like 10,000 needles piercing my flesh, followed by countless knives scraping the marrow from my bones. I wanted to roll in the dirt and scream until my throat bled.”

He lay there for a long moment, wallowing in self-pity and letting the residual tremors fade. “Every time I get intelligence, there’s a catch. I should be used to these nasty surprises by now.”

Once his breathing steadied, Wu Yuan scrambled upright to assess the damage.

What he found left him stunned.

He had doubled in size. Standing on his hind legs, he was now a full half-meter tall. On all fours, he had the mass and presence of a house cat. His fur had shifted from a dull, muddy brown to a lustrous blend of sandy yellow and white.

But the real change was beneath the skin.

Muscles coiled like steel cables under his pelt, rippling with every small movement. His claws had extended into serrated hooks, and when he gnashed his teeth, they clicked together with the metallic sharpness of daggers.

“Physical enhancement is just the foundation,” Wu Yuan whispered, his eyes gleaming. “The real prize lies within.”

He closed his eyes and circulated his Qi. Immediately, the world around him shifted. Tiny, milky-white motes of light drifted from the earth and air, drawn into his body like iron filings to a magnet.

Spiritual Qi.

His internal reservoir of Demon Power—previously capped at ten strands—surged with newfound vitality. The quantity hadn’t increased much, but the quality had transformed. He had finally broken through the bottleneck. He had opened the channels to true Cultivation.

Wu Yuan opened his eyes, a dangerous glint in his pupils. He gathered his Qi, focusing it into his throat, and spat.

Thwip!

A streak of absolute darkness shot from his mouth.

[Dark Spirit Thorn]!

The projectile was pitch black, a void that seemed to devour the surrounding light. It moved in total silence. It struck the cave wall not with a crash, but with a terrifying lack of sound, punching a bottomless, smooth-bore hole deep into the rock.

Wu Yuan checked his reserves. “Five strands remaining. That single strike consumed half my power.”

High cost, but devastating lethality. He raised his claws to the sky, letting out a squeak of pure triumph that sounded more like a roar.

“I am no longer a common beast! I am a Spirit Creature!”

The path of the demon was harsh. Ordinary beasts could accidentally cultivate Demon Power to strengthen their bodies, but only by enduring the agony of Awakening could they unearth their bloodline and become a Spirit Creature. From there, they could eventually transform into a true Demon.

Wu Yuan analyzed his status with the precision of a scholar. “The pain was severe because my bloodline is thin. I have two distinct lineages. The first is the [Spirit-Gathering Rat]—weak, but it granted me the [Spirit Gathering] art and the inheritance memories.”

“The second bloodline is so faint it’s barely a wisp, yet it gave me a killing blow: the [Dark Spirit Thorn].”

He grinned, revealing his terrifying new fangs. “Usually, a common beast is lucky to awaken one innate spell. I got two. The bloodline might be dilute, but the versatility is unmatched.”

“The only downside,” he mused, “is that a weak bloodline creates a lower ceiling for future growth.”

He shook his head, dismissing the negativity. “I’ll cross that bridge when I get there. For now, my lifespan has jumped to forty or fifty years. I’m in the early stages of Qi Condensation. Once I cultivate ninety-nine strands of Demon Power, I can break through to the mid-stage.”

In the ancient era, beasts used terms like ‘Spirit Creature’ and ‘Great Demon.’ But in this age, the Heavenly Dao favored humanity. The human form was the ultimate vessel for the Dao. To survive and thrive, the great Demon Monarchs had aligned their cultivation stages with human standards: Qi Condensation, Foundation Establishment, and Golden Core.

“That explains why the [Fox Immortal Qi Condensation Method] is such a treasure,” Wu Yuan thought, his excitement mounting. “It’s a top-tier demon technique tailored to absorb Lunar Essence—a rare and potent form of energy that purifies bloodlines. Compared to the crude breathing exercises in my inherited memories, it’s like comparing a feast to scraps.”

He did a little jig, unable to contain himself. “It’s a windfall! A pie falling from the heavens!”

With the [Fox Immortal] technique and the Karmic Pearl, the limitations of his rat body were merely temporary obstacles.

“I will reach Foundation Establishment. I will take human form.”

With his spirit renewed and his confusion cleared, Wu Yuan crawled out of the deep burrow. He emerged into the bright sunlight, taking a deep breath of fresh air.

Suddenly, a shadow fell over him.

It grew rapidly, blotting out the sun.

Wu Yuan squinted upward. The male owl was diving in a suicide run. Its feathers were ragged, its eyes burning with madness, and its claws glowed with a sinister, dark red light—a sign it was burning its own life force for power.

“Coming at me with everything you have left?” Wu Yuan noted dryly. “You really do hate me.”

The owl was a wreck. Desperation and grief had driven it to overdraw its potential.

“Look at your plumage. It’s a mess,” Wu Yuan critiqued, unmoved by the bird’s tragic resolve. “You lose your wife and immediately stop taking care of yourself. Pathetic.”

The owl didn’t hear the mockery. It only saw the rat. As it closed in, its rage morphed into ecstatic bloodlust. It saw Wu Yuan stand up on his hind legs, his belly exposed, and faltered for a microsecond—confused by the rat’s size—but dismissed it instantly.

Die!

The owl shrieked silently.

Wu Yuan opened his mouth. A beam of black light erupted.

Before the owl could even register the threat, its vision went black.

The [Dark Spirit Thorn] pierced its skull mid-dive. The bird’s momentum carried it forward until it crashed into the dirt, tumbling like a broken kite before coming to a stillness.

“Overestimating your own abilities,” Wu Yuan scoffed.

He walked over to the corpse, sniffing it. “Tonight, we feast on bird. I wonder what effects the meat of a cultivator beast will have?”

Dragging his kill, Wu Yuan returned to his original home—the comfortable nest he had abandoned days ago.

But as he entered, his mood soured instantly.

He stared at his bed. There was a lump on it.

A creature was sleeping in his nest.

Wu Yuan’s claws flexed, scratching grooves into the floor. The killing intent radiating from him was palpable.

The lump stirred. It kicked its tiny legs and sat up, rubbing its bleary eyes. It took a long moment for the intruder to focus. When it finally registered the muscular, cat-sized monster rat looming over it, its eyes bulged.

It was a hamster. Fat, round, and trembling like a leaf in a storm.

Wu Yuan glared at the pudgy intruder. “I need a new rug,” he thought coldly. “That cream-yellow fur would look excellent on my floor. And it’s plump enough for an appetizer.”

Sensing its imminent demise, the hamster panicked. It frantically puffed out its cheeks and spat something into its small paws. Trembling violently, it held the object out to Wu Yuan as a peace offering.

Wu Yuan looked down.

It was a [Moon Spirit Grass] seed.

It was covered in hamster spit.