Legendary Beast Cultivator

Lin Yuan remained frozen in the middle of the library aisle, his fingers were wrapped tightly around the old leather scroll.

Under the dim, flickering essence lamp, the grotesque sigil carved across its surface seemed to be even darker.

For a few minutes, Lin Yuan simply stared at it.

Then, a faint heat began spreading across his shoulder from his back.

Lin Yuan’s eyes widened slightly.

Under his robes, the twin white tiger tattoos were growing warm. He can feel his instincts screaming along with his tigers. Inside his sea of consciousness, the turtle beast also fell silent.

The lazy, sleepy expression it usually had vanished. Its eyes were locked on the carved sigil. For the first time, the turtle looked as though it were desperately digging through memories of it.

Lin Yuan noticed the change immediately. ’You recognize it?’

The Turtle didn’t answer. Lin Yuan narrowed his eyes, calling his turtle in his mind. ’Turtle.’

A few tense breaths passed. Finally, the turtle slowly lifted its head. "...I don’t know."

Lin Yuan frowned, recognising the turtle’s hesitation.

’You’re lying,’ Lin Yuan grunted, clenching the scroll.

"I said I don’t know, kid," The turtle yelled, its voice booming in his consciousness.

’Then... why did you hesitate?’

The turtle went silent, refusing to talk.

Lin Yuan looked back at the petrified leather in his hands. Whatever the turtle had remembered, it clearly had no intention of sharing it yet.

Lin Yuan didn’t press it. Instead, he carefully turned the ancient scroll open.

The leather cracked softly in the quiet aisle.

The first page was almost ruined by age and rot. Mildew and moisture had vanished large chunks of the words, leaving only broken fragments behind.

Lin Yuan leaned closer under the pale lamp.

"Blood of the night... awaken under the—" Lin Yuan read the sentence and stopped because the rest of the sentence was obscured by a black stain.

He darted his eyes to the next page. "Three souls... seven offerings... nine breaths..."

Another tear stripped the context away.

Lin Yuan frowned, his eyes darting further down.

"With flesh as vessel... With blood as seal... With darkness as—"

The final words were obliterated by an ink-like smudge.

"Tsk," Lin Yuan clicked his tongue in annoyance. "Most of this is unreadable."

He turned to the next section.

Here, many small ritual arrays had been hand-drawn into the parchment. Some were simple interlocking circles, while others twisted into jagged shapes resembling predatory claws.

One particular diagram depicted nine featureless figures kneeling in a circle around a pitch-black altar.

Below it has another incomplete incantation:

"O ancient night, descend upon—"

And the other part is stained.

"...let the dead forget their names..."

Stained.

"Let the living surrender their—"

And the remaining parchment is torn away. Lin Yuan slowly turned the page, and there was another fragmented line. "Demon blood shall open the gate..."

The remaining characters were smeared beyond all recognition.

He continued flipping through the brittle papers. Page after page, every single ritual was not complete. The crucial explanations were ripped away, names were erased, and vital steps had been deliberately ruined by time or maybe by someone who didn’t want these methods known.

Lin Yuan’s expression grew sharper. These weren’t normal beast-taming techniques, they were rituals regarding soul-crafting rites.

He turned another page. "Nine heavens above... Nine hells below... The mortal body shall become the—"

Stained.

"Fuck this scroll!!" Lin Yuan let out a soft breath. "It’s stained again..."

He pushed past the rot to the next passage.

"Blood shall flow backward. Bones shall become the altar. The soul shall become the flame. When the final seal opens..."

The remaining text was missing. Lin Yuan’s fingers stopped moving.

He stared at the broken passage in silence.

There was something unsettling about the words. It wasn’t just the dark intent behind them... it was weird that whoever had written these records had been attempting something far beyond the natural laws of cultivation.

Lin Yuan carefully turned the third major section of the scroll.

Strangely, this page had survived far better than the rest. It wasn’t pristine, but enough characters remained.

At the top, several archaic glyphs lingered across the paper.

"Heavens and hells bow to the demons..." His eyes narrowed as he read on. "When a soul arrives..."

A dark smudge interrupted the text. Lin Yuan lightly brushed his thumb over the parchment, tracing the letters. "...from the other world..."

Lin Yuan’s body shivered once, his breath caught in his throat. His thoughts rumbled across his brain.

He desperately read the text under it, but the ritual instructions were mangled.

"the soul shall become..."

Stained.

"the vessel shall..."

Stained.

"...the gate shall..."

And the remaining was torn, and only two words at the bottom remained visible clearly. "Chosen vessel."

Lin Yuan’s grip tightened on the leather edges.

He forced his thoughts to halt. ’Don’t jump to conclusions yet.’

There simply wasn’t enough context. It could describe a summoning ritual, a possession method, a soul transfer, or something unrelated to his circumstances. He couldn’t afford to panic over mere fragments.

Lin Yuan turned the page one more time. Most of the lower section was ruined by dry rot. Then, resting alone at the bottom of the parchment, he spotted a single line. "The beast mark shall guide the vessel."

Lin Yuan’s hands quivered under the shock. The skin across Lin Yuan’s back itched with sheer heat.

Roooaarr!!

A terrifying roar tore through the silence under his clothes. Lin Yuan gasped, his eyes widening in shock.

The twin white tiger tattoos on his back flared to life, burning with silver-white radiance that shone straight through his robes.

The essence lamps around the library flickered vehemently.

A strong wave of spiritual pressure withered outward, rattling the towering bookshelves and shaking bamboo slips in their racks.

Lin Yuan let go of the leather scroll instantly.

He stumbled back two paces, his legs slamming into the wooden floor.

"What the hell?!"

The deafening roar faded as quickly as it had come.

The intense heat across his shoulder slowly cooled, the tattoos sinking back into silence.

Lin Yuan’s chest heaved, his heart pounding against his ribs.

He stared down at the scroll resting on the floorboards.

The claw mark. The eerie demonic aura. The strange resonance he had felt inside sect master Xue Hongzhao’s aperture.

And now... his own legendary white tigers had reacted to it on instinct.

Lin Yuan gulped, clicking his tongue.

Inside his sea of consciousness, the turtle finally spoke. Its voice carried only pure authority.

"Kid..."

Lin Yuan kept his gaze down to the floor. ’What?’

"Don’t touch that mark again."

’Why?’

The turtle fell silent for three seconds.

"Because I finally remember where I’ve seen it."

Lin Yuan’s heart skipped a beat.

****

At that same hour, the grand chamber of Red Talon Hall was filled with senior elders.

Xue Hongzhao sat at the head of the long stone table, his face carved from dark stone.

Dozens of elders stood below the dais, their heads lowered under the tension. The missing corpse of the demonic cultivator, the hidden sigil carved into a rock of dark cave, and the wiped-out villages along the border.

None of them could afford to dismiss this as a rogue monster incident anymore.

Xue Hongzhao slammed his open palm onto the armrest, the crack echoing like thunder through the hall. "We are done treating this as an ordinary disturbance."

The elders remained silent.

"Send word to the central continent," Xue Hongzhao commanded, raising his head. "We are handing this to the Qinglin Continent Detective Faction."

The elders exchanged startled glances. Xue Hongzhao didn’t care, he just wanted to know who the hell is pulling strings from the back.

"I want two elite scouts and a senior elder dispatched within the hour, and deliver our sealed reports, hand over the site maps, and demand a full investigation into this interference."

He paused, his eyes narrowing slightly."And there are three specific investigators I want assigned to this case."

A senior elder looked up. "Who, sect master?"

"Chi Leiyang," Xue Hongzhao stated, nodding his head with a smirk on his face. "My friend... Xue Jianhong. And their young companion, Cang Ming."

The elders nodded in approval.

"I will take the scouts and depart immediately," A gray-haired senior elder stepped forward, cupping his fists.

"Good!"

The journey toward the center of the continent was long and grueling.

Gradually, the rugged mountain ridges of the southern territory faded under a thick sea of clouds.

The green wilderness gave way to paved stone highways, towering defensive outposts, and sprawling centers.

The central continent operated on a different scale of power.

There are colossal flying vessels gliding through the skies, their hulls engraved with shimmering runes. The cultivators in pristine robes bearing the insignias of various sects and legendary clans walked on the wide streets. The grand spiritual towers pierced the clouds, while massive spirit beasts pulled gilded carriages along wide streets.

Even the spiritual energy in the air felt denser and purer.

After traveling without rest, the senior elder and the two scouts arrived before a massive, black-and-white building.

And high above the iron gates, there was a towering stone plaque. QINGLIN CONTINENT DETECTIVE FACTION

This was one of the most formidable and respected investigation organizations across the continent.

The headquarters was built like an impenetrable military fort. The stone walls surrounded the building, armed sentries walked on every watchtower, and defensive warding arrays hummed faintly in the air.

The elder strode into the grand reception hall.

Behind the counter, an attendant stood up to greet them. "Welcome to the Detective Faction. May I ask what business brings Red Talon Hall to our halls?"

The senior elder gave a crimson-and-gold jade token, sliding it across the counter.

"An emergency directive issued by the sect master Xue Hongzhao."

The receptionist’s polite expression turned serious. "An emergency directive?"

The elder nodded solemnly, keeping his voice low as he elucidated the situation about the mutant monkey tide, the demonic cultivator, the vanished corpse from the medical hall, and the unknown ritual sigil in the cave.

The attendant listened with increasing urgency. The moment the elder finished speaking, she snapped her head toward an armored guard standing by the side pillar.

"Move immediately," she ordered, extending her hand. "Summon Senior Investigator Chi Leiyang, Investigator Xue Jianhong, and Cang Ming to the briefing chamber."

"Understood!"

The guard rushed through the corridor. Inside the training grounds of the Detective Faction, a massive stone boulder groaned under the air. And within a second, it was slashed into a storm of gray debris.

Standing in the center of the swirling dust, there was a young man holding a large broadsword.

His posture was relaxed, his breathing was calm and steady.

The weapon was nearly as tall as his body. Its broad blade was forged from dark, matte silver, with azure lines running on it like veins of ice.

It was one of the twenty-five great swords of the Origin World — the Frostfall!

Xue Jianhong slowly lowered the blade, his eyes cold and focused. He was training alone in the isolated courtyard.

A second massive boulder was twenty paces ahead. He adjusted his footing, lifting Frostfall once more.

His lips parted, a rhythmic chant lingering out from his mouth.

"Frost beneath heaven..." His knuckles tightened along the hilt. "Cold within earth..."

A thin sheet of glacial frost darted down the flat of the dark silver steel.

"One breath seals the mountain..." His eyes flared, sending a surge of refined beast essence from his aperture to down his arms. "One strike..."

His eyes flashed with icy intent. "...shatters the heavens."

The broadsword swung downward in a vertical arc. The colossal boulder cleaved clean in two.

Yet Xue Jianhong didn’t halt the momentum. His blade shifted into a blur of continuous horizontal slashes.

The stone split into hundreds of jagged chunks, then sheared into thousands of tiny pebbles, before disintegrating into a cloud of gray powder.

The dust drifted lazily across the stone tiles. Xue Jianhong stood still in the haze, letting out a breath of white mist.

Then, the frantic footsteps broke the silence of the training yard.

"Investigator Xue!"

Xue Jianhong turned his head. The faction guard skidded to a halt ten paces away, struggling to catch his breath.

"What is it?" Xue Jianhong asked calmly.

"An emergency directive from Red Talon Hall," the guard gasped. "The sect master has requested an immediate deployment for you, Chi Leiyang, and Cang Ming."

Xue Jianhong’s eyes narrowed slightly. "Red Talon Hall?"

The guard gave a nod. "The situation is critical."

Xue Jianhong looked down at the stone settling around his legs.

A strange tension suddenly settled in his chest, his fingers clenching around the grip of Frostfall.

"Something has gone wrong on the mountain... I am coming, my old friend!"

****

In the quiet, dust-filled shadows of Red Talon Hall’s library, Lin Yuan remained standing over the ancient, forbidden scroll.