The Primal Blood Demonic Dragon

Dawn broke not with clarity but with thick mist curling between the trunks of tall boned trees, their leaves heavy with dew. Gin stirred first. The world smelled the same damp bark, loamy earth and fading traces of energy friction from the night before but something else lingered. A faint dissonance. Not energy, not scent. Something more elusive.

The others rose slowly. Mira emerged from beneath a canopy of vines, her eyes calm, her gait smooth. Lucy followed, stretching her limbs without a word, hair a little tousled but steps light despite the absence of any core strength. Across the makeshift camp, Xingning and Jean surfaced, slightly delayed, their shared aura unusually harmonious. Alice, as always stepped out last, perfectly composed, her pale eyes unreadable.

They began walking soon after, no one bothering to speak. And slowly increased their speed picking up the usual pace.

Gin kept a steady pace near the front, sometimes pausing to scan ahead or double back briefly to monitor the terrain. The forest shifted subtly the further they went more light pierced through the canopy and the ground no longer felt like layered roots and decayed leaves. Instead, it became firmer, warmer as if group of beats ran just beneath the topsoil and warming up the area in process.

They were heading east. That much was clear. The direction was correct. But something else...

His paws crunched down over a scattering of quartz-like fragments nestled under moss. A bird like creature startled nearby, wings flapping once before gliding off. Its energy pulse was light Tier 1 at most, no threat. Yet Gin barely registered it. His eyes narrowed.

’Why is the distance still so great?’

He could feel it in his bones now. Something was wrong.

The cave, their intended destination was near the coastal line, just near sea. Gin remembered the sharp descent of terrain, the crashing resonance of ocean breath, and the pale trees growing along the salt-licked ridges. When he had first teleported, he’d emerged near that area and traveled deeper within the wilderness. He was certain. That journey had taken less than an hour at full speed in his true body fast, fluid, unencumbered.

Yet now they had walked two full days. And even considering their group’s pace. Slower because of Lucy, this should not have taken this long.

He glanced back at Lucy again.

Her steps were consistent as if measured. Her limbs carried the stress well, her body showing no tremor or stumble despite lacking a functioning energy core. She was easily the slowest among them but even then, now she surpassed most unawakened fighters in raw physical capacity. Her endurance defied logic. It had been part of what drew Gin’s attention since day one.

But this wasn’t about her.

This was about the distance.

Was the cave truly this far? he thought again, for what felt like the tenth time that day.

He remembered passing a jagged outcrop of obsidian rocks and a grove of ash-leaved trees near the small lake basin during his last trip. Those landmarks should have appeared already. And yet... nothing. Only different trees, different undergrowth. All familiar, yet not. As though the land itself had shifted when he wasn’t looking.

The more he thought, the less it made sense.

He tried growling lowly, intending to share his worry with Alice. She had always understood him. Even subtle tones of his transformed voice, his half-snarl half-murmur thoughts, she seemed to decipher with a glance. So he drew close, letting out a cautious sequence of throaty signals. A mix of inquiry and unease.

She turned to him with a gentle blink, as if waiting for more.

He repeated it, adjusting the rhythm, the undertone, sharpening the note that should have expressed his suspicion. He narrowed his eyes slightly, emphasizing the urgency.

But her expression didn’t change. Instead, she looked at him with mild confusion. "Are you hungry?" she asked softly.

Gin froze. What?

Another growl frustration this time. Short, sharp. He shaped it with clarity.

She tilted her head. "Do you want to stop?"

He blinked. Stunned.

She had never failed to understand him before. Never misread his tone, not even once. And now, on this topic only this topic she seems blind to his meaning.

Gin backed away slightly, unsettled and turned toward Jean. He hadn’t tried communicated with the small winged-lizard since his consciousness awake and she identified him. She kept mostly to herself, often guarding the rear with quiet vigilance. But she was sharp, and her perception rivaled Mira’s.

He approached, tail flicking low in a calculated attempt to appear non-confrontational, and gave a steady growl. Controlled but questioning.

Jean paused, glancing at him, one brow raised. She slowed her steps.

Another growl this time more firm. Clear inquiry. She had to understand something.

But she didn’t. Instead, she blinked at him like he’d just spoken in beast language. Her lips parted slightly in an unspoken question.

He stared at her, then gave a soft snort, half turning away.

She only watched, puzzled.

Gin finally stopped trying. The air around his body dimmed slightly, not in color but in presence. He gave no more growls, no more inquiries. Just silence.

He returned to the lead, ears twitching, the terrain ahead as quiet as before.

By the time night fell again, a subtle tension had built in his chest not fear but persistent disquiet. They made camp for the third night in a sheltered space beneath a web of overlapping trees with wide canopies. Jean shaped the surroundings as always, coaxing vines to weave into cover and bioluminescent leaves to provide light.

No one questioned the long march. No one mentioned the cave.

Gin rested in his usual spot beneath a broad-barked tree, limbs curled but spiritual sense spread outward in a layered sphere. His senses pulsed through the darkness with practiced control, soft enough to avoid alerting any distant presence but wide enough to detect threats or anomalies.

Lucy and Mira retreated together again, disappearing beneath a curtain of moss and woven leaves. Their shared presence soon shimmered with fluctuating physical tension, faint pulses of pressure that rhythmically clashed and merged.

Entrances rubbing against each other, both having pleasure filled face while their meat melons rise and fell with their hip going up and down as both slit glued together.

When Saira motioned her lower portion to go up then Lucy moved herself to downward.

In next move Saira moved lower body to downward with both her legs spread apart while supporting herself with on hand and other hand on her mouth. Suppressing the moans from coming out.

With same beat as Saira, Lucy moved her lower part up still glued with Saira’s. Generating intense heat and friction between the wet splits, soaked from dripping juices from the small caves between their legs.

Jean and Xingning followed not long after, retreating to their own alcove.

Gin had adapted to this by now. The rhythms no longer startled him. They had their own ways of processing exhaustion, bonding or simply softening the weight of wildness. But tonight, he watched them more closely not out of curiosity alone. Yet he enjoyed every beat, every movement, every friction and clash of different body fluids just like every time.

He split his spiritual focus forty-five percent each to the two canopies. Mira’s water energy was thicker tonight, her resonance wrapping around Lucy like an encasing tide, yet Lucy held her ground, just as the past two nights. The exchange was rougher, deeper. Jean and Xingning, meanwhile, seemed lighter, almost playful but the energetic friction suggested something intense beneath the calm.

He would’ve let it pass like the other nights. Would have sat quietly, observing, drifting toward rest.

But something stirred.

A flutter of low-tier energy caught his attention. Two fox-like beasts at the sense’s edge. Tier 1. Innocuous. Harmless.

And yet they were entangled against each other. Not fighting. Not grooming. The same way. But right genders this time for the act. One plowing the stick, while another devouring that, hiding deep inside her inner chasm.

Gin blinked, narrowing his focus.

Another rustle to the south. Two shadow-antlers, their horns entangled, bodies pressed tight together. 𝒇𝓻𝓮𝓮𝙬𝙚𝒃𝒏𝓸𝙫𝒆𝙡.𝓬𝓸𝒎

He extended his spiritual sense farther, shifting it away from his companions for the first time in hours.

More creatures. A pair of vine-serpents coiling along a log, scales rubbing. A brace of bristle-hogs leaning flank to flank.

Even winged beasts high above moved in mirrored patterns, chasing each other through the canopy in looping dances. Few times not even coming down a tree top to do the deed but male one speeding up and sliding inside still in flying motion as if it couldn’t wait to get engaged with her in mating, even female one also not struggling after that but flying with male with it’s thing inside her from back. Male moving back and forth while still in air and few pairs of horny flyers even crashing withing mosses and vegetation while in ecstasy.

Everywhere, he realized.

All the pairs. None were alone. All engaging in mirrored contact, connection-bonding?

His body stiffened.

He pushed his senses even wider, now at the limit of his focus. He scanned every living thing within reach. No beasts hunting. No aggressive howls. No territory markers. Just small creatures paired, plowing and taking in.

He didn’t move. Didn’t breathe for several seconds.

His tail laid flat against the earth, unmoving. Not out of fear but realization.

This wasn’t coincidence. This wasn’t spring or heat season. The wilderness didn’t coordinate this way.

It felt orchestrated.

It felt guided.

Yet there was no central source. No ripple of foreign intent. No bewitching presence. No spiritual haze.

Just this strange, synchronized instinct taking hold of everything.

And Gin rooted beneath a tree, in a form that couldn’t speak, with companions who no longer understood him. When he questioned this shift of distance, could only watch.

Alone.

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To Be Continued.