Ashbone: The Record of Burning Heaven

Chapter 7: The Taste of Iron

"NO! Get away!"

Su Qing screamed, her voice cracking with desperation.

In her eyes, the scene playing out was pure madness. A ragged, emaciated boy—who looked more like a walking corpse than a warrior—had just thrown himself onto the back of an Iron-Back Crocodile.

That was a Stage 2 Spirit Beast. Its scales were as hard as refined steel. Even her Senior Brother, a cultivator at the peak of the Spirit Gathering Realm, had failed to pierce its hide with his sword.

This boy had no weapon. No armor. No visible Spirit Qi protection.

"He's suicidal!" the injured male disciple cried out, clutching his bleeding leg. "He's just feeding it!"

The crocodile roared, feeling the weight on its back. It didn't even bother to bite; it simply thrashed, whipping its massive body to throw the pest off. The force was enough to shatter a boulder.

Lin Jin was thrown sideways. His grip slipped on the slimy, moss-covered scales.

“Hold on, you fool,” the Entity hissed in his mind. “Do not let the meal escape.”

Lin Jin’s eyes were void of fear. They were only filled with a starving, grey intensity. He dug his fingers into the gaps between the crocodile’s heavy scales.

His fingernails broke. Blood seeped out.

But where his blood touched the beast, the scales hissed.

Tzzzzzzt.

The crocodile froze mid-thrash. A confused, pained gurgle rumbled in its throat. It felt… wrong. It didn't feel a cut or a bruise. It felt a sudden, terrifying coldness spreading from its spine, as if its blood was turning to ice.

"Eat," Lin Jin whispered.

He slammed his palms flat against the beast’s "Iron Back."

Ashbone Art: Corrosion Touch.

The effect was instantaneous and horrific.

The disciples of the Cloud Crane Sect watched, their mouths hanging open, as the impossible happened.

The crocodile’s metallic, dark-green scales—prized for making armor—didn't break. They rusted.

In the span of a heartbeat, the shiny scales turned a dull, flaky orange. Then, they crumbled into dust like dried mud.

Lin Jin’s hands sank into the beast’s flesh.

"ROA—"

The crocodile’s roar of dominance turned into a high-pitched shriek of absolute terror. It bucked violently, but Lin Jin was now fused to it, his hands buried deep inside its back, acting as conduits for the ruinous energy.

The grey mist exploded outward.

"What... what is that technique?" Su Qing whispered, trembling. She sensed no Spirit Qi. No elemental fire or lightning. Just a suffocating aura of death.

Visible to the naked eye, the massive bulk of the crocodile began to deflate.

The muscles withered. The thick tail, which had just snapped a tree in half, shriveled up like a dried pepper. The life force of the Stage 2 beast rushed into Lin Jin like a river into the ocean.

“Yes! Yes!” the Entity laughed maniacally. “Heavy! Dense! This is the calcium of a king! Burn it! Refine it!”

Lin Jin threw his head back. A gasp of pure ecstasy escaped his lips.

The pain of the impact vanished. The fatigue from the swamp vanished.

The energy of the Iron-Back Crocodile was heavy, earthy, and metallic. It flooded his spine, coating his "Iron-Rust Bones" with a new, thicker layer of power.

Crack. Snap.

The beast collapsed. It didn't fall like a dead body; it crumbled like a sandcastle.

Within ten seconds, the terror of the swamp—a monster that had cornered five elite disciples—was gone.

In its place lay a pile of loose skin draped over a brittle, white skeleton.

And standing on top of the carcass was Lin Jin.

He exhaled slowly. A cloud of grey dust puffed from his lips. His skin seemed slightly less pale, possessing a faint, metallic sheen under the moonlight.

Silence.

Absolute, terrified silence filled the clearing.

The remaining crocodiles, sensing the sudden disappearance of their pack leader's life force, stopped their advance. They were simple beasts, but they understood the hierarchy of the food chain.

Something worse had arrived.

Su Qing swallowed hard, her sword trembling in her hand. She stepped forward cautiously.

"Senior... Senior Expert?" she stammered, using a respectful title despite the boy appearing younger than her. "Thank you for saving us. I am Su Qing of the Cloud Crane Sect. May I know your name?"

Lin Jin slowly turned his head.

His eyes were grey and indifferent. He didn't look at Su Qing’s beautiful face. He didn't look at her gratitude.

He looked at the other crocodiles.

"Saving you?" Lin Jin’s voice was raspy, like grinding stones.

He jumped down from the skeleton, landing in the mud with a heavy thud. He ignored Su Qing completely and walked toward the remaining beasts.

The pack of crocodiles hissed, backing away.

"I didn't save you," Lin Jin said, lifting his hand. The grey mist around his fingers swirled violently, hungry for more.

"I just started eating."

He lunged at the next crocodile.

The disciples watched in horror as the "victim" became the butcher. It wasn't a battle. It was a harvest.

As Lin Jin tore through the swamp, turning monsters into dust, Su Qing realized a chilling truth.

They hadn't been rescued by a hero. They had just been ignored by a predator.