First Cultivator of the Philippines

The night deepened over Barangay Kapitan Pepe, a calm veil settling over its quiet streets. Inside his modest second-floor room, Jiro sat cross-legged on the floor, his body rigid with concentration. The faint glow of the mysterious scroll bathed the room in a soft light, highlighting the intensity on his face as he worked to follow its cryptic instructions.

Energy swirled faintly around him, guided by his attempts to draw it toward his dantian. Despite his limited understanding, the scroll seemed to whisper instructions directly to his soul. Each breath felt like a step closer to something extraordinary.

He was so engrossed in his cultivation that he didn't notice the danger creeping toward his home.

The Aswang, cloaked in shadows, slithered and crawled toward the house. Its grotesque form, half-human and half-beast, moved with an unsettling silence. Only the faint clinking of its claws against the ground betrayed its presence. The scent of blood, a faint remnant from the injured disciple's desperate fight that led it unerringly to Jiro.

It crouched at the edge of the property, eyes glowing like embers. The Aswang paused, sniffing the air. A low growl rumbled in its throat.

"This is the scent... the scent of the one who holds it," the Aswang rasped, a wicked smile spreading across its malformed face. "The scroll... and the fool who keeps it."

As it approached the house, its claws scraped against the walls, leaving long, jagged marks. It circled the property, probing for weaknesses.

But as it moved closer, something unexpected happened.

A faint, golden sigil etched into the ground outside the house began to glow. The ancient symbols, written in Baybayin script, came alive with radiant energy. The Aswang froze, its expression twisting into one of fear and rage.

"No... not them," it hissed. "Not here."

The sigil flared brightly, and the ground beneath it erupted in flames. From the fiery burst emerged a towering figure, shrouded in an aura of intense heat. The deity's form was humanoid yet otherworldly, its eyes blazing with an inner fire that seemed to pierce the night. In one hand, it wielded a staff tipped with a flame-shaped crystal that pulsed with searing energy.

"Ignorant creature," the deity boomed, its voice reverberating like a rolling thunderstorm. "Did you truly believe you could trespass here without consequence?"

The Aswang screeched, baring its fangs. Despite its fear, it lunged toward the deity, its claws aiming for a swift, lethal strike. But the deity was faster.

With a sweep of its staff, the deity unleashed a torrent of flames. The fire roared to life, spiraling toward the Aswang with blinding speed. The creature twisted mid-air, narrowly avoiding the blaze, but the heat singed its flesh, leaving blackened marks across its twisted body.

The Aswang landed awkwardly, snarling in pain. Its eyes darted around, searching for an escape.

"You cannot run," the deity declared, stepping forward. Each step sent sparks flying, and the ground beneath its feet sizzled.

The Aswang lunged again, this time feinting to the left before slashing at the deity's side. Its claws raked through the air, only to collide with a fiery barrier that erupted from the deity's staff. The force of the impact sent the Aswang tumbling backward, smoke rising from its scorched claws.

Realizing it was outmatched, the Aswang tried a different approach. It hissed an incantation, its voice guttural and filled with malice. Shadows coalesced around it, forming jagged tendrils that lashed out toward the deity.

The deity raised its staff, and a dome of fire burst forth, incinerating the shadowy tendrils before they could reach it. The flames danced and swirled, as though alive, and began closing in on the Aswang.

"Your kind has plagued the mortals for too long," the deity said, its tone resolute. "But this is where your terror ends."

The Aswang screeched in desperation, its voice echoing through the night. "You cannot kill us all! We will endure! We always have!"

The deity's eyes narrowed, the flames around it intensifying. With a thrust of its staff, a column of fire shot toward the Aswang, engulfing it completely. The creature's screams echoed briefly before fading into silence.

When the flames subsided, all that remained was ash scattered across the ground.

The deity turned its gaze toward the house, where Jiro remained oblivious, lost in his meditation. The scroll's glow pulsed faintly, as if responding to the events outside.

From the rooftop, another figure emerged which is a man dressed in simple yet elegant garb, his presence radiating calm authority. He nodded toward the deity, raising a hand in a silent signal.

The deity inclined its head in acknowledgment, the flames around it dimming. Slowly, it dissolved into the air, leaving only faint scorch marks on the ground where it had stood.

The man lingered for a moment, his gaze fixed on Jiro's room. His expression was unreadable, but there was a hint of curiosity in his eyes.

"He is unaware... for now," the man murmured. "But his path is set. May the heavens guide him."

With that, the man leapt gracefully from the roof, disappearing into the night without a sound.

Inside, Jiro let out a deep breath, his body tingling from the faint energy he had managed to gather. He opened his eyes, feeling more attuned to his surroundings. The room seemed sharper, clearer. He could see the smallest details and the fine cracks in the walls, the faint scratches on his desk, even the dust motes floating in the air.

"I did it," he whispered, a small smile tugging at his lips. "It's real."

But outside, the remnants of the battle served as a silent warning: the world he had stumbled into was far more dangerous than he could imagine. And the protectors who watched over it were only the beginning.