Path of BlooDld

His body was covered in blood—some of it his own, most of it not. His bones screamed from exhaustion, his muscles pulsed as if they were about to explode from within. And yet, Ashen sat in silence, his eyes fixed on patches of deep black blood that had pooled at his feet. These weren't ordinary stains. They were the remnants of dozens of beasts he had hunted—blood pulsing with feral intent, resisting absorption, resisting taming.

"Come on…" he whispered hoarsely as he activated the Devouring Skill.

A faint glow emerged from his chest, and a network of dark red energy lines began slithering through his body like snakes, absorbing the blood, refining it, and redistributing it through the veins of his primal body.

Each drop was a battle.

Inside every drop was a memory, an attack, a scream, a howl. And each one, he had to face.

Ashen saw himself in a black void. Before him stood a wolf-like beast, its fangs made of pure bone, its eyes dripping with flame.

The beast snarled and lunged at him.

Ashen didn't back down. His fist, ablaze with "Blood Bear Fist," slammed into the beast's face. He felt bones shatter under his blow, but the pain was mutual. The beast's intent pierced his mind, nearly stealing his consciousness.

He fought...

And with each such battle, he emerged wilder, tougher.

Dozens… hundreds of these mental clashes followed until his body erupted with heat and energy.

And in a moment of silence, he felt something change.

There was a faint rune on his wrist—the one linked to the Blood Bear Talent—and it began to glow slowly.

"What is this?"

It wasn't normal.

The rune seemed to be inhaling something, like a predator sniffing the air.

In a flash of realization, he understood.

The remnants of the feral intent within the beast blood were being drawn toward the rune… and devoured.

The rune changed.

It became darker, denser, as if it had become alive.

Days passed, maybe weeks, as he repeated the process.

Kill, absorb, refine, struggle, then brief rest.

And each time, his strength grew. His body adapted, evolved. And with time, a critical moment dawned.

His bloodline purity reached 5%.

He felt it—his blood lighter, more fluid, more… primal.

Then… something exploded inside him.

"A new skill?" he whispered, stunned.

[Ability Acquired: Blood Tracker.]

Ashen focused, and strange pulses began to radiate from within. It was as if his blood had become a compass—searching, sensing.

He saw red lines of light crisscrossing the space before him, pointing toward distant spots.

Each point was a creature.

Each creature carried something in its blood...

The hunt began.

Each time, he faced a different opponent. Some were fast, some cunning, some had terrifying abilities.

But none were worthy of being devoured.

He tasted their blood, analyzed it, then rejected it. He wasn't seeking power alone—he sought compatibility, something that could merge with his bloodline without corrupting it.

And with every encounter, he became more skilled, more selective.

Months passed.

Then, on a dim evening, his ability felt a special call.

Something powerful… nearby.

He hid among the rocks, eyes locked on a small pool of blood seeping slowly into the soil.

Then he heard footsteps.

The crocodile appeared.

Massive as a mountain, blood-colored, moving with a calm that made the earth afraid of its tail.

But it wasn't the size that stunned him—it was what he felt inside.

A powerful bloodline.

"This is it…"

He planned.

Prepared poisons.

Set traps.

Then triggered a herd of beasts to attack the crocodile.

A massacre erupted.

The crocodile was unstoppable. Blood blades shot from its tail, slicing through beasts like paper. Its hide was as hard as steel, impervious to fangs. Blood exploded, flesh flew, the cries of beasts filled the air—painful, terrified—before falling silent forever.

But Ashen had never intended to rely on other beasts.

He wanted to exhaust it.

When the storm calmed and the blood clouds lifted, he stepped in.

Ashen ran through the tall grass, his fists blazing with Blood Bear aura.

He leapt and struck directly at the crocodile's jaw.

The impact pierced the first layer of defense and forced the beast's head to twist.

The crocodile retaliated with tail blades, forcing Ashen back. His right arm was partially shredded, blood gushing in angry bursts.

"Primal Iron Skin!"

His skin hardened into a black armor and absorbed the next hit, though it pushed him back, panting.

The crocodile charged, jaws opening to reveal double rows of fangs, then clashed with him in close combat. Every second was slaughter, every move a stab. Blood soaked the ground, the air thick with the scent of burning iron.

Ashen gathered his strength and used his fists to break the hardened scales on the beast's neck, creating a small crack. The crocodile roared and unleashed a storm of blades—some cut Ashen's flesh, some tore through the earth beneath them.

The crocodile caught Ashen's body with its tail and began smashing him like a doll. One hit, two, then it hurled him into a boulder. The rock shattered, and Ashen collapsed beneath the rubble, half his body buried.

But his eyes still burned.

With a blood sword drawn from an open artery in his arm, he launched. The next stab targeted the same cracked spot on the beast's neck. But the defense had reset, and the crocodile countered, its jaws clamping down on Ashen's side.

A horrifying scream.

He nearly lost consciousness, but he drove a poisoned dagger into its eye, forcing it back.

He gasped.

Bleeding.

Staggering.

Then he smiled.

With the last of his strength, he threw a red powder into the air.

A cloud of poison exploded, and he vanished into the shadows, running with everything he had.

The crocodile tried to chase, but the ground exploded beneath it.

One of the traps went off—flesh burst, and its feral howl shook the skies.

Ashen barely, barely escaped.

He entered the cave, panting, body torn—but his spirit burned.

He had survived.

But now he knew…

To be ready, he had to be much, much stronger.

"Next time… I won't run. I'll devour it."

Then he closed his eyes and began a new refinement session with old blood he had saved for this day.

And the faces in the walls… smiled.