THE TRANSMIGRATOR

CHAPTER 6 — THE FIRST STEP INTO CULTIVATION

The wounded soldier had barely finished speaking when a scream tore through Blackstone Village.

John spun toward the eastern wall. A second scream followed, this one cut short by a terrible growl.

Marcus came running from the direction of the barracks. “John! Something is inside the village!” The alarm bell began ringing.

Villagers poured from their homes, some carrying farm tools, others clutching spears that John had helped them practice with.

Then something crashed through a wooden fence. A creature emerged from the darkness. It looked like a wolf, but John knew immediately that it was not one.

Its body was nearly twice the size of an ordinary wolf. Thick black fur covered its limbs, and two pale ridges ran along its spine. Its eyes reflected the moonlight with an unnatural red glow.

More frightening was the faint distortion surrounding its body. The air itself seemed to tremble around it.

“Hold the line!” Marcus shouted. Four villagers raised their spears. The creature disappeared. John's eyes widened. “Move!” Too late.

The beast struck the first man in the chest and sent him flying across the road. It spun before the others could react, dodging one spear and biting through another as though the wooden shaft were nothing more than dry grass. The villagers panicked. “Back!”

“Run!”

“Don't let it reach the houses!” The creature charged again. John did not retreat. He watched. Its movements were too fast, but they were not random.

Every attack followed a pattern. It always shifted its weight onto the left hind leg before lunging. Its head lowered before it changed direction.

And every time it attacked, that strange energy around its body became brighter. John's mind raced. It wasn't simply strong.

Something was strengthening it. “Marcus!” he shouted. “Stop attacking it directly!” Marcus barely dodged the creature's claws.

“What?”

“Drive it toward the eastern field!” Marcus understood immediately. He shouted orders. The villagers formed a loose line and began retreating.

The creature followed. Exactly as John expected. John ran ahead. He had spent weeks preparing the fields.

The irrigation channels were not merely useful for crops. They had created trenches. John had also placed several wooden supports beneath the soil while reinforcing the channels.

Now he had a trap. “Keep moving!” he shouted. The creature leapt. John jumped aside. Its claws struck the ground where his chest had been.

The beast turned toward him. For one terrifying second, their eyes met. John felt something. Not fear.

A pressure. An invisible force seemed to push against his skin. His breathing stopped. The creature lunged.

John rolled beneath it. The beast landed directly over the concealed irrigation trench. John slammed the wooden lever he had prepared.

The supports collapsed. The creature dropped into the trench. “Now!” Six villagers pulled the rope.

A heavy wooden frame swung downward and crashed onto the beast. The creature roared. The sound shook the entire field.

The frame cracked. John's heart jumped. “Again!” The villagers pulled harder. The beast pushed upward. Wood splintered.

One of the supports snapped. John grabbed a burning torch from Marcus. He threw it into the dry brush surrounding the trap.

Flames raced across the prepared line. The creature screamed as smoke filled the trench. For several seconds, it struggled violently.

Then its movements slowed. Finally, it stopped. Nobody moved. John approached cautiously.

The creature was dead. Marcus stared at the corpse. “What was that thing?” John looked down.

“I don't know.” Marcus studied his face. “You're lying.”

John remained silent. Because he had just discovered something even more frightening. The creature's body was surrounded by energy.

And he could feel it. Not with his eyes. With something deeper. The moment John touched the creature's hide, a strange warmth rushed into his palm.

His entire body stiffened. Images exploded inside his mind. A forest. Running. Hunger. Moonlight.

A distant mountain. Then another image appeared. A vast stone gate buried beneath the earth.

Something was standing behind it. Something enormous. John tore his hand away. He staggered backwards.

Marcus caught him. “What happened?” John breathed heavily. “I saw something.”

“What?”

“I don't know.” But he did know one thing. The creature had contained energy. And somehow, his body had absorbed a trace of it.

John returned home before dawn. He could not sleep. He sat beside the dying fireplace and stared at his hands.

The memories he had experienced had not been his. They had belonged to the creature. Or perhaps they had been something the creature had absorbed.

Either way, ordinary biology could not explain it. John remembered the stories from his former world. Cultivation.

Spiritual energy. Meridians. Dantian. Ancient warriors who strengthened their bodies by absorbing the energy of heaven and earth.

He had always considered such stories fiction. There had never been evidence. No measurable energy. No supernatural beasts.

No cultivators. But this world was different. John closed his eyes. He remembered the sensation from the creature.

The energy had moved through his hand like a warm current. If it existed inside living things, perhaps it also existed in the world itself.

He sat straighter. “What if cultivation is real?” The thought was terrifying. Because if cultivation existed, then everything changed.

The soldiers he feared might not be the greatest threat. Kingdoms might not control the world. There could be people capable of powers far beyond ordinary weapons.

John remembered the wounded soldier's words. The army was losing. Something had come from the mountains.

Perhaps the creature was only the beginning. John looked toward the eastern window. The sky was still dark.

He needed answers. He remembered an old breathing technique from one of the ancient texts he had once read in his former life. It had been presented as a fictional cultivation method.

John had laughed at it back then. Now he crossed his legs on the floor. He slowed his breathing. Inhale.

Hold. Exhale. Nothing happened. He tried again. Still nothing. John frowned. Perhaps it was nonsense after all. He repeated the sequence. Again.

Again. His breathing became slower. The room became strangely quiet. Then Boom.

John's heartbeat suddenly became deafening. His eyes snapped open. The air around him trembled.

A faint pressure descended from above. John could feel something moving toward him.

A thin stream of invisible energy entered through the top of his head. Pain exploded through his body.

He nearly collapsed. The energy travelled downward, burning through every part of him. His fingers dug into the floor.

He wanted to stop. But some instinct told him that stopping now would be more dangerous. So John endured.

The energy reached his chest. Something inside him opened. A pulse of force spread through the room.

The candle flame beside him bent sideways. Dust rose from the floor. John's eyes widened. He could suddenly feel the entire village.

Every heartbeat. Every footstep. Every breath. Then a scream came from outside.

“JOHN!” It was Marcus. John stood immediately. “Something is happening to the sky!”

John rushed outside. Every villager was staring upward. John followed their gaze. His blood turned cold.

The stars above Blackstone Village had changed. They were no longer scattered randomly across the heavens.

They had formed a perfect circle. And directly at the centre of that circle, a crimson star had appeared. It was growing brighter.

John stared at it as an ancient pressure descended over the village. Then a voice whispered inside his mind.

FOUND. John froze. The crimson star pulsed once. And somewhere beneath Blackstone Village, something answered.