Beneath a twilight sky streaked with violet and ash, Arthev stood at the edge of the ancient grove, his breath steady, his gaze sharp with quiet intensity. The air thrummed with a primal pulse, weaving through the towering trees like the heartbeat of a slumbering deity. Their gnarled trunks, carved with spiraling runes that flickered with faint emerald light, loomed like silent witnesses to an age long forgotten. Ahead, half-sunken in the earth and cloaked in writhing, thorned vines, a shattered obsidian dome exhaled a metallic chill that prickled his skin and honed his senses to a razor's edge.
"This place…" Arthev's voice was low, measured, his eyes narrowing as he studied the dome's jagged silhouette. "It's alive. Not dead, not sleeping—just waiting."
His fingers brushed the leather strap of his pouch, a subtle gesture to ground himself as his lips pressed into a thin line of resolve. "And it's calling me. Let's see what you've got."
The words were soft, almost a challenge to the grove itself, spoken with the calm certainty of a man who knew his path. The hum deepened, as if the earth acknowledged his presence.
Then it stirred.A tremor rippled beneath his boots, faint but deliberate, like the first breath of a waking beast. Arthev's expression remained composed, though his eyes flicked to the ground, calculating.
"Here it comes," he murmured, his voice steady as he shifted his stance, muscles coiling with readiness. The ground quaked violently, splitting with a crack that echoed like a war drum. Roots tore free, vines recoiled, and from the tangled underbrush, something colossal erupted with a hiss that cut the silence like a blade through cloth.The Serpent Vine Drake unfurled into the clearing, a primal force of scales and sinew, its massive form a living tempest. Its body gleamed with hues of moss and tarnished bronze, a grotesque fusion of reptilian muscle and writhing, vine-like tendrils sprouting from its spine, twitching like the feelers of a predatory plant. Its maw gaped, revealing jagged teeth dripping with green ichor that sizzled where it struck the earth. Yellow eyes blazed with wild, untamed fury the chaotic wrath of a soul beast born from the grove's raw essence.Arthev stood his ground, his expression calm but alert, his pulse even as he assessed the creature.
"A soul beast," he said softly, his voice tinged with respect rather than bravado. "Nearly a thousand years old, must be above 800 by the feel of it. Wild, not bound." His eyes narrowed, a faint spark of anticipation in their depths. "You're no warden —just a wild beast. But you're in my way."
The drake's aura pressed against him, a storm of soul power testing his resolve. Arthev's lips curved into a subtle, knowing smile—not cocky, but confident, the look of a man who'd faced death before and walked away wiser.
"Let's see if you can keep up," he said, his tone low and taunting, designed to provoke without arrogance.His eyes flickered, and the world sharpened. The Two Tomoe Shinragan spun to life in his irises, crimson and black surrounded by silver-white hue , transforming his perception until every detail burned with clarity. The drake's movements—the subtle shift of its coiled shoulders, the rhythmic twitch of its tail, the faint rhythm of its breath—unfolded like a puzzle he'd already begun to solve. Time slowed, granting him a fleeting edge. "Predictable," he whispered, his voice calm but laced with a quiet thrill.
"Let's begin."The drake attacked.Vines lashed forward, a barrage of barbed, bladed tendrils that tore through the air with lethal precision. Arthev's body blurred—Body Flicker Technique—and he reappeared atop a moss-covered boulder meters away, the ground where he'd stood now a churned ruin of gouged earth and splintered roots.
"Sloppy," he said, his voice carrying a deliberate edge as he balanced lightly on the boulder, his posture relaxed but ready. The vines writhed, seeking him, their tips glinting with venomous sap.With a fluid motion, Arthev drew a kunai, its edge catching the fading light. "Let's test your reflexes," he said, his tone calm but pointed as he hurled the blade with pinpoint accuracy. It sliced through a trailing vine, pinning it to a tree trunk with a dull thunk.
The drake roared, a guttural bellow that shook the grove, and tore the vine free, spraying sap that hissed against the bark."Sensitive, aren't you?" Arthev remarked, his voice steady as he leapt from the boulder, landing in a crouch. His hands blurred through seals, his movements precise and practiced.
"Wood Release: Clone Technique."
The earth responded. Bark and roots twisted upward, shaping into a perfect replica of Arthev, its crimson Shinragan gleaming. The clone darted left as the real Arthev flickered right.
"Keep it busy," he instructed, his voice low and focused as the clone drew shuriken and unleashed a barrage. The spinning blades danced across the drake's hide, shallow cuts meant to irritate rather than wound, drawing its attention.The drake's focus snapped to the clone, its vines crashing toward it like a tidal wave. The wooden Arthev wove through the onslaught, skidding beneath one tendril, vaulting over another, and sliding under a final barbed strike.
"Good," Arthev murmured, circling to the drake's flank, his Shinragan cataloging its patterns. The clone seized a broken branch, driving it into the drake's forelimb with a crunch. The beast snarled, its tail whipping through the air in a brutal arc that shattered the clone into splinters.Arthev's Shinragan flared as he reabsorbed the clone's memories, his expression unyielding.
"Left side's weaker," he said softly, his mind racing as he mapped the drake's movements. "Vines in sets of three, tail strikes on the fourth beat. I see you." His lips twitched into a faint, calculated smile.
"You're strong, but strength alone won't win this."A vine sliced through the air above him, and he ducked, rolling to the side with a controlled exhale. "Too predictable," he said, his tone taunting but measured as he flickered again, reappearing on the drake's back. "Let's see how you handle this." His boots found purchase on its scaled hide, but the beast bucked violently, its vines curling inward. Arthev leapt free just as a tendril grazed his shoulder, tearing fabric. He landed in a crouch, his expression tightening briefly.
"Close," he muttered, brushing at the torn cloth.His hands formed another seal.
"Wood Binding Roots,"
he said, his voice firm, commanding. Thick roots erupted from the soil, wrapping around the drake's limbs like living chains. They tightened with relentless force, anchoring the beast to the earth. The drake thrashed, its roars shaking the trees, its scales bristling with toxic sap that burned the air.
"Stay put," Arthev said, his tone sharp as he channeled more soul power into the roots.But the drake's wild soul refused to yield. One vine broke free, slashing across Arthev's side in a flash of pain. Cloth tore, blood welled, and he staggered, his hand pressing against the wound.
"Tch," he hissed, his face tightening with a flicker of irritation. The gash was shallow, but it burned. His eyes flicked to the drake, his expression hardening.
"That was a mistake," he said, his voice low and deliberate, a quiet promise of retaliation.He pushed forward, ignoring the pain. This fight was more than survival—it was a crucible, forging him closer to his goal. Every strike, every dodge, stoked his soul power, its ember flaring brighter with each clash. The grove's energy pulsed in time with his heartbeat, urging him onward.
"Level 10's close," he murmured, his voice steady, his eyes burning with resolve. "This is the key. I know it."The drake tore free of the roots, its strength untamed, and reared back, its maw gaping wide. A blast of acidic mist erupted, a sizzling cloud that melted the ground. Arthev leapt clear, sprinting low, his Shinragan tracking the mist's spread.
"Clever," he said, his voice calm but edged with respect as he circled to the drake's flank. His right hand glowed, soul power coalescing into a spinning orb."Rasengan," he said softly, his expression one of absolute focus. He held back, waiting, watching. The drake's movements grew erratic, its vines lashing wildly.
"Come on," Arthev murmured, his voice a quiet taunt. "Show me what you've got." It lunged, its jaws snapping, but he was already gone, a blur of motion weaving through its strikes."Wood Release: Clone Technique," he said, his voice carrying quiet authority. Another clone rose, charging forward with a roar.
"Bind its face," Arthev instructed, his tone precise as roots sprouted from the clone's arms, lashing out to lock the drake's jaws in a lattice of wood. The beast shook violently, its tail flailing, shattering trees. "Hold it," Arthev said, his voice steady, his heart pounding with focus.He surged forward, Rasengan blazing. The drake's yellow eyes locked onto him, its body coiling for a final strike. Arthev's Shinragan traced its muscles, predicting the lunge.
"Now," he whispered, his voice a low growl of certainty.He drove the Rasengan into the drake's ribs with a sonic thud that shook the grove. Scales shattered, vines snapped, and a shockwave rippled outward, toppling trees. The drake's howl split the air as it skidded into the obsidian dome, stone and vines collapsing around it. It slumped, twitching, its aura fading.
"Down," Arthev said, landing in a crouch, his breath heavy but controlled. Blood dripped from his side, but his expression was calm, his eyes sharp with triumph. "Not dead. But you're finished."His vision blurred, not from pain, but from a deeper shift. The grove's hum grew deafening, resonating with the surge of energy within him. He dropped to one knee, his spine arching as soul power roared through his veins.
"This is it," he said, his voice quiet but fervent, his eyes wide with realization.
"Level 10."A red flare erupted around him, a pulse of pressure that warped the air and sent vines recoiling. The grove trembled, acknowledging his breakthrough. The boundary that had held him back for two years shattered.
Soul Power: Level 10.
The world tilted.
Darkness swallowed him.He was floating.Weightless in an endless void, cold water lapped at his feet, though he stood on nothing. A black sea stretched into the distance, its surface like polished obsidian beneath a starless sky. His Shinragan burned, casting faint crimson light.
"Where…" Arthev's voice was steady, his brow furrowing as he turned, his expression calm but wary. "This isn't the grove. Another plane?"A ripple disturbed the sea.Then a wave, heavy with intent. The water churned, pressed by a presence so vast it weighed on his soul. Arthev's stance shifted, his eyes narrowing.
"Something's coming," he murmured, his voice low, calculating.From the depths, a shape rose—sand-colored fur, jagged and wild, bristling with primal fury. A single, massive tail arched into the void, stirring the air into a storm. Arthev's gaze lifted, his expression composed but alert, his breath steady.Amber eyes gleamed, feral and alive, set in a face of chaos. The One-Tailed Beast, Shukaku of the Desert, towered over him, its lips curling into a mad grin.
"So…" Its voice rumbled like a sandstorm, sharp with amusement. "You're the one who's come to wake me up?"