Chapter 7: Rise of the Snowborne Wolf
The snow never stopped.
Day and night, it fell—soft, endless, and cold. In the heart of the frost-covered forest, beneath the towering rock cliffs and beside the now-frozen stream, a young man stood barefoot on the thick snow. His breath was steady, slow, as if in tune with the rhythm of nature itself. His bare arms, once torn and trembling, now pulsed with veins of condensed qi. Not long ago, he was nothing but a dying figure in the dirt—but now, he had become something more.
Tyris stood still, his eyes closed, frost gathering at the edges of his eyelashes. Behind him, the great white wolf, Freya, watched in silence. Her eyes—once wild and untamed—now reflected a quiet pride. Snow swirled around them in circles, not merely falling but dancing in harmony with the qi Tyris released from his body.
Six months had passed since that silent pact.
Six months of silence, hardship, and recovery. Tyris had lived through frostbite, starvation, nightmares, and guilt. But now, the once-wounded heir of the Moon Clan had stepped onto the first stage of the path all cultivators must walk.
Qi Refining Realm—2 Star.
The journey to recovery had not been swift. At first, his meridians were ruptured, muscles frayed, and spirit barely holding on. But Freya never left his side. Through their spiritual bond, her own frost-aligned qi had steadily healed him—mending bones, restoring nerves, and eventually, reawakening the cultivation technique he had been taught since childhood.
The Moonlit Veins Scripture—a technique passed down from the Moon Clan for generations, tuned to cold, ice, and the quiet clarity of moonlight itself. The moment his body was stable enough to endure the pressure, Tyris began to practice again. The technique drew in the essence of frost from the environment, purifying his inner qi, slowly rebuilding his dantian from ruin.
Freya watched over his cultivation sessions. At times, she would rest her head on his lap, or gently nudge him when he was about to lose focus. Other times, she would emit a low growl, and Tyris would instantly understand what she meant. Their bond was more than words—it was instinct, emotion, and shared memory.
Tyris had become one with the snow.
And the wolves knew it.
It began with subtle changes. The younger wolves stopped growling when they saw him. Then they began following him at a distance. Eventually, the whole pack began bowing their heads slightly when he passed, acknowledging not just Freya—but him. It was Freya's scent and the mark on his heart that connected him to the pack. But his persistence, strength, and silent command of the snowy lands made him something more.
One afternoon, Tyris sat atop Freya as she slowly ascended a ridge overlooking the northern edge of the forest. From this vantage point, he could see the entire frozen valley. Below, dozens of wolves moved—hunting, playing, and patrolling the edges of their territory.
Tyris looked down at them and spoke softly. "I never imagined I'd become the leader of wolves."
Freya gave a soft, amused huff.
Their connection had grown deeper with each day. Now, through the bond, he could feel her heartbeat like it was his own. He could sense her emotions—her hunger, caution, her trust. When he meditated, her memories flowed into him like dreams. Sometimes vivid, sometimes fragmented, but always real.
In the most recent memory, he had seen the moment Freya was born.
A cave surrounded by blood. Snow falling outside. A single silver wolf curled around her—massive, wounded, and weak from labor. That silver wolf was Silver, the companion of his mother—Osa Moon. It was clear now. Freya had not simply chosen him because of luck. She had been drawn to the familiar scent carried in Tyris's blood—Osa's scent, passed from master to spirit beast.
Tyris clenched his fist. "I survived because of you, Mother. And because of her."
In the six months that followed their bond, he had become more than a stray survivor. He had reclaimed his name in secret, regained his strength, and begun laying the path to a greater goal.
Revenge.
He never said it aloud. Not even to Freya. But the fire that once smoldered quietly in his chest was now burning stronger each day.
At night, he trained. During the day, he hunted with the wolves, learned from their patterns, sharpened his instincts. Freya taught him the Frost Pulse Technique, an instinctual art used by spiritual beasts that allowed him to send qi into the environment and read changes in terrain, energy, or presence. It was a subtle, yet invaluable skill in survival and tracking.
He crafted tools from bones and stone. Constructed a stronger shelter near the stream. Harvested frost herbs, and with Freya's help, learned how to concoct simple restorative tonics. Even though he lacked formal equipment, the forest itself became his cultivation ground.
One night, he sat before the fire, flames flickering against the cave walls.
Freya lay beside him, her eyes half-closed but alert. Tyris fed a log into the flames and spoke.
"I was once the weakest in my clan," he said. "They called me the 'soft moon'. I didn't like to fight. I preferred to read. I stayed with the elders, listened to grandfather's stories. I thought… if I was quiet enough, if I followed the rules enough, no one would ever hurt me."
His voice was calm, but the pain simmered beneath.
"They took everything. Stripped them all naked before slaughter. My brothers… sisters… even children."
Freya raised her head, meeting his gaze. Through the bond, she sent a ripple of understanding—one that carried warmth and sorrow.
"I can't stay quiet anymore," Tyris continued. "I will rise, not as a son of nobility. Not as a prince of a fallen clan. I will rise as the chosen of the frost, born anew in blood and snow."
A howl echoed in the distance.
Freya stood up, ears perked. Tyris rose beside her. Other wolves began to howl back in chorus—a haunting, powerful sound that filled the forest with life.
And yet, there was something else in the air tonight.
Tyris narrowed his eyes, sensing the faintest fluctuation in the surrounding qi.
He focused his Frost Pulse Technique. A wave of qi spread from his core, through the snow-covered ground and into the distance. Then, he felt it—movement. Fast. Human. Several figures approaching from the east.
Bandits? No. Too well-coordinated. Scouts? Maybe.
He turned to Freya. "We're not alone."
Freya growled low, her eyes glowing faintly blue.
The next few days, Tyris remained cautious. He concealed his presence, relocated their camp deeper into a ridge-covered region, and kept watch from higher ground. He was no longer the same man dragged unconscious through the city in chains. His senses were sharp, his mind calm.
Realm Lore Insert: The Path of Ascension
Cultivation was a mountain with no end.
Body Refining – Strengthen the body to withstand and circulate Qi. It takes 9 stages [skin,flesh,bone, blood, organ, bone-marrow, vein, vencera, body unity ...Qi-Refining – It takes 9 stars [ lowest one star - highest 9 star]
Tyris had barely touched the second realm—Qi Refining, marked by nine stars. He was only at the 2-star level, but the path ahead was carved in legends. Before him lay:
Foundation Establishment – Where qi becomes a part of one's very being. Cultivators begin constructing their spiritual foundation.[Early, Mid, Late, Peak]
Core Formation – Where a golden core forms inside the dantian, a source of pure condensed qi. [Early, Mid, Late, Peak]
Nascent Soul Realm – Where the soul detaches and gains independence, enabling long-range attacks and soul techniques.[Early, Mid, Late, Peak]
Divine Soul Realm – A realm where one's spiritual power affects reality itself.[Early, Mid, Late, Peak, Pseudo]
Ascension Realm – Where cultivators begin defying the laws of nature.[Early, Mid, Late, Peak, Pseudo]
Immortal Ascension Realm – The trial of death or immortality.
Immortal Realm – Subdivided into Human, Earth, Heavenly, True, Golden, Celestial, and Ancestor levels.
Each realm had hurdles, and heavenly tribulations that tested not just body and spirit—but destiny.
There is huge gap between each realm with in its stage
[Note: One cultivator can kill 2 cultivators who are one realm below. Which mean Ancestor level Immortal Realm can kill 16 Human level Immortal Realm cultivator]