After six months of relentless meditation, silence, and mental exhaustion, something finally shifted within Michael and Lin. The chaotic diagram that once appeared as nothing more than a meaningless collision of strokes no longer resisted them completely. For the first time, they could truly see it—not with full clarity, not with complete understanding, but enough to realize that it was never random to begin with.
The drawing revealed itself as a fragmented whole, stretching across the scroll like a broken constellation composed of intersecting arcs, disjointed curves, spiraling hooks, and compressed clusters of lines layered upon one another. Some strokes were thick and heavy, carrying an invisible weight as though they embodied structure itself, while others were so faint they seemed ready to vanish, like echoes of something that once existed. Patterns began to emerge within patterns—repeating structures that almost aligned yet refused perfect symmetry. In certain regions, the lines formed shapes that resembled limbs, while in others they collapsed into dense knots, like muscle and bone compressed beyond natural limits. Even with this new level of perception, the truth remained the same—they could see it, but they did not yet understand it.
So they continued.
Another thirteen months passed in complete immersion. Time lost its meaning as their existence narrowed into a singular rhythm of breath, awareness, and observation. The outside world faded into irrelevance, leaving only the scroll and their evolving perception. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, the strokes began to separate—not physically, but within their minds. Each line started to carry intention, each curve began to suggest purpose, and every intersection hinted at a deeper connection. The chaos did not disappear; instead, it reorganized itself into something structured, something deliberate.
Michael's perception moved first. To him, the dense clusters of strokes transformed into a grounded structure, forming a low, poised configuration that felt heavy with contained force. The curved lines extended like a coiled spine, flexible yet loaded with restrained power, while the sharp hooks became claws, and the compressed intersections formed joints designed for explosive release. In his mind, the diagram evolved into something silent, controlled, and predatory—a presence that did not rush, did not waste energy, but endured and waited for the perfect moment.
A beast that waits, he realized. A body built to endure, then strike.
The image in his perception resembled a crouching predator, something akin to a cat poised before the hunt, where every line represented tension and every structure embodied restraint. It was not about motion itself, but about the moment before motion, the exact point where potential became inevitable.
At the same time, Lin perceived something entirely different. Where Michael saw compression, Lin saw extension. The spiraling lines unfolded into continuous movement, the jagged strokes became directional shifts, and the intersections transformed into pivot points that guided flow rather than restricting it. In his mind, the entire diagram became a seamless sequence, something that never paused, never held back, and never lost momentum.
This is not waiting, Lin understood. This is flowing.
To him, the diagram resembled a running beast, lean and adaptive, constantly shifting with perfect efficiency. It was not defined by stillness, but by uninterrupted motion, not storing power but circulating it endlessly. Where Michael saw a crouching predator, Lin saw a running hound, two completely different interpretations born from the same source.
Yet when they tested their understanding, something undeniable occurred. Michael's stillness created the perfect point of impact, while Lin's motion created the perfect path toward it. One anchored, the other guided. They did not oppose each other—they completed each other.
Silence settled between them as they both turned back to the diagram, but this time, they did not observe it individually. They observed it together. And for the first time, the fragments aligned.
The crouching form and the flowing motion were not separate interpretations; they were layered truths. The diagram was not describing a single state, but multiple states woven into one existence. The dense clusters were not merely structure—they were stored motion, while the flowing lines were not merely movement—they were released structure. It was neither a cat nor a hound, but something far deeper—a beast that embodied both stillness and motion, compression and release, form and flow as a unified existence.
In that realization, the truth emerged clearly within their minds: the diagram was only a fragment, a single portion of something far greater, a complete entity divided into stages—not one, not three, but ten distinct stages, each representing a different aspect of its existence.
And what they had just grasped was only the beginning.
A faint, ancient name surfaced within their consciousness, not from memory, but from the diagram itself, as though the knowledge had always existed and was merely waiting to be recognized.
Primordial Beast Law – Stage One: The Crouching Origin.
The moment this understanding solidified, their auras transformed instantly. Lin's presence expanded outward, rising like an endless sky, smooth and boundless, carrying the natural authority of one who had grasped the essence of flow. His cultivation surged forward, stabilizing at Sky Walker Stage 8, his aura becoming untouchable, refined, and vast. In contrast, Michael's transformation was far more violent. His aura did not expand outward but pressed heavily against its surroundings, dense and overwhelming, like a force forcing itself into existence. It lacked refinement, yet its raw intensity was undeniable, embodying compressed power on the verge of eruption as he stepped into Sky Walker Stage 1.
The space around them distorted slightly, not from sheer power, but from understanding. They had not advanced through traditional cultivation alone; they were still rooted within the Beast Realm, and yet their existence had already begun to touch the Sky. What they had learned was not a technique, not a method, and not something that could ever be taught. It was something that could only be perceived differently yet lead to the same truth.
This was only Stage One of a ten-stage Primordial Beast.
In the universe of, long before civilizations formed, before stars stabilized, and before the structured paths of cultivation came into existence, there existed a singular entity known as the Primordial Beast. It was not born, nor was it created; it existed alongside the very foundation of reality itself, coexisting with Light, Darkness, Shadow, Time, and Void—the five original laws that govern all existence. Unlike all beings that came after, the Primordial Beast was not bound by these laws. Instead, it existed beyond them, untouched and unrestricted, as though the universe itself held no authority over its existence. It was not merely the first beast; it was the origin of all beasts, the embodiment of instinct, structure, motion, and dominion in their purest forms.
From its existence, creation unfolded. Not through intent, but through presence. As the universe expanded and the five original laws stabilized, fragments of the Primordial Beast separated, giving rise to the Five Origin Beasts, each inheriting a portion of its essence and aligning with one of the fundamental laws. These five became the true progenitors of all beast lineages, and through them, countless species emerged across the universe. Yet with each generation, the purity of that origin diluted, making true understanding increasingly rare.
Only those who could trace their comprehension back to the Primordial source—not through blood, but through perception—could begin to grasp the laws in their purest form. This is why the Primordial Beast Law could never be taught. It was not knowledge passed down, but truth rediscovered.
After two relentless years, Lin and Michael had finally grasped the first stage, not completely, but enough to transform their foundations. Recognizing their progress, Valtherion instructed them to return home and spend time with their families, knowing that the next phase of their journey was approaching rapidly.
When Michael returned home, he discovered that most of his family had already been relocated to Planet Eres for intensive training. Only his grandfather, Ben, and a few elders remained. For the first time in a long while, Michael allowed himself a moment of quiet, spending time with the old man before the inevitable call of the future pulled him away once more.
Three months later, the Starfall Covenant made a galaxy-wide announcement through Maize. Across all thirty planets under its authority, it was declared that thirty warriors from each world would be selected to participate in the upcoming Starfall Galactic Ascension Tournament, which would take place on Planet Eres. These warriors were the top thirty from their respective planetary tournaments, and for the first time, the Covenant expanded its selection beyond the traditional top eight.
The rewards were staggering. Each selected warrior's family would receive between 150 trillion and 350 trillion, while their respective nations would be granted 55 trillion, adjusted to their preferred currency. This revelation sent shockwaves across civilizations, reinforcing the reality that the tournament was no longer just about glory—it was about power, influence, and survival in a rapidly evolving universe.
Within a month, all transactions were completed, and preparations began. The selected warriors gathered at Point Nemo, where Michael and Lin reunited briefly before the arrival of the Astrax Dominion Ark.
The massive vessel descended with overwhelming presence, its sheer scale eclipsing the sky as its structure reflected the authority of the Starfall Covenant. As a sovereign-class interstellar ship engineered under the Xytherian Dominion, it represented both technological supremacy and political dominance within the Milky Way Galaxy. Capable of reaching speeds of up to three thousand times the speed of light, it was protected by advanced spatial shielding that nullified cosmic pressure and stabilized the vessel against the violent distortions of high-velocity travel.
However, due to biological limitations, the ship operated at a regulated speed of one thousand five hundred times the speed of light when carrying Beast-level warriors, ensuring their survival against the crushing pressure of the universe. At this velocity, the journey to Planet Eres would take approximately one standard year, spanning a distance of fifteen hundred light-years.
As the boarding sequence began, the warriors stepped into the vessel one by one, fully aware that they were leaving behind everything familiar. The Astrax Dominion Ark was not merely a transport—it was a gateway to a new stage of existence, one that would test them beyond anything they had ever faced.
And as the Ark ascended, breaking free from Earth's atmosphere and entering the vast expanse of space, one truth settled silently within every warrior present.
The real journey.
Had only just begun.