Eo had seconds.

  The mist still swirled violently from the creature’s attack, the shockwave sending ripples through his fragmented form. But he didn’t panic. He focused.

  If the creature could push the mist into an attack, then so could he.

  Eo compressed his form, pulling the mist around him inward, drawing it into himself rather than letting it scatter. The creature lunged, sensing weakness—its jagged teeth gleaming as it surged forward for the kill.

  Eo reacted.

  Instead of retreating, he moved with the mist, pushing forward instead of resisting.

  A split-second before impact, he released everything.

  The compressed mist burst outward, sending a forceful shockwave in the opposite direction. The sudden shift in momentum caused the creature’s attack to falter—its balance disrupted by the unexpected resistance.

  Now.

  Eo lunged, his form shifting into a piercing spear of liquid mass.

  He shot forward, straight through the creature’s open mouth.

  Jagged teeth scraped against his form, but he didn’t stop. His tendrils shot outward, coiling into the soft tissue of the predator’s throat, expanding inside it.

  The creature thrashed, its body convulsing as it tried to dislodge him. But Eo held firm, his structure spreading like invasive tendrils, latching onto everything.

  Then, in a single, fluid motion—he contracted.

  The creature’s throat collapsed inward, torn apart from the inside.

  A muffled gurgle. A violent spasm.

  Then stillness.

  Eo slowly withdrew, his form uncoiling as the jagged-toothed beast drifted lifelessly, dark blood seeping into the water.

  For a long moment, he remained still, watching as its body settled.

  The hunt was over.

  And yet, something told him… his growth had only just begun.

  Eo hovered in the water, staring at the lifeless body of the jagged-toothed beast. The battle had been brutal, and for the first time, he had been on the brink of death. Not just injury—actual, complete destruction.

  The sensation still lingered. The feeling of his body unraveling, the helplessness of being scattered into nothingness. It was a warning, one he would never forget.

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  He had survived. But survival was not enough.

  He had seen the creature manipulate the mist, using it to enhance its strikes and create deadly bursts of force. He had watched its every movement, observed the subtle flow of mist within its body. And in the moment before his death, he had unknowingly mimicked it.

  That knowledge burned within him.

  He had instinctively saved himself. But instinct wasn’t enough. He needed control.

  The corpse drifted slightly, the last remnants of its life leaking into the water. Eo moved closer, his senses sharp, feeling the lingering mist within the dead creature’s body. Even now, it still clung to the remains, as if unwilling to dissipate entirely.

  He hesitated.

  Then, carefully, he extended a tendril of himself toward the beast’s remains.

  The mist responded.

  It was faint, almost imperceptible, but he felt the pull. It was as if the creature’s mist—though no longer controlled—recognized something within him.

  Would it strengthen him?

  The thought was unsettling. He had never consumed another being before—not like this. But the creature had wielded the mist in a way he had never imagined, and he had nearly perished because of it.

  If he wanted to understand—if he wanted to evolve—then he had to take this step.

  Eo wrapped himself around the carcass, his liquid form seeping into the beast’s wounds. Slowly, deliberately, he absorbed.

  The sensation was unlike anything he had ever felt. The moment the mist-infused flesh entered his being, his body reacted.

  A sudden surge ran through him. His entire form vibrated as if struck by a force from within. The mist—the creature’s mist—was merging with his own, but it did not simply settle.

  It resisted.

  The creature had controlled the mist differently than he did, and its lingering essence fought against his own. The energy inside him churned, unstable, clashing violently within his body.

  For a moment, he thought he had made a mistake.

  Then, just as quickly, the chaos settled.

  The resistance faded, and something clicked into place.

  The mist within him had expanded.

  Not just in quantity—but in quality.

  He could feel it. The way it moved, the way it shifted within him—it was denser, more refined. As if, in consuming the creature, he had absorbed a piece of its mastery.

  Eo stilled.

  This… was different.

  He had thought the mist was something he could command, something external. But now, as it pulsed inside him, he understood—

  The mist wasn’t just a tool.

  It was alive.

  And now, it was part of him.

  This battle had nearly ended him. But in the end, it had given him something far greater than just survival.

  It had given him power.

  And he intended to use it.

  The last remnants of the creature’s flesh dissolved within him, and Eo felt his body settle. The instability was gone, replaced by a new, unfamiliar strength. His mist had changed.

  He pulsed it outward experimentally, letting it drift through the water. Immediately, he noticed the difference. Before, it had been a passive force—something he could push and pull but never truly grasp.

  Now, it moved sharper.

  Denser.

  The way it reacted to his will was more responsive, flowing like an extension of his instincts rather than an external energy. The creature had refined its mist to strike, to kill. And in consuming it, Eo had gained a fragment of that same refinement.

  But it wasn’t enough.

  This was just the beginning.

  Eo turned his gaze toward the dark expanse of the water around him. How many other creatures like this existed? How many wielded the mist in ways he had yet to understand? If consuming this beast had strengthened him, then what would happen if he devoured more?

  The thought settled deep inside him, solidifying into a resolve.

  He would hunt.

  Not out of hunger. Not out of bloodlust.

  But because he had glimpsed something greater.

  Mastery.

  The mist was not merely an element to control—it was a force to conquer.

  And if devouring those who had already shaped it allowed him to grow, then he would carve his path through this world, one predator at a time.

  The hunt had only just begun.