First Cultivator of the Philippines

Life in Cabanatuan City was predictable. Tricycles buzzing, jeepneys honking, and the chatter of street vendors were as constant as the scorching heat. Most days passed without much excitement, a blur of school, chores, and the occasional escape into the world of cultivation novels on my phone.

That day started like any other. It was a routine trip to Pacific Mall, the city's slightly worn yet bustling shopping center. A two-story building that had seen better days, its once-bright facade was now faded, with streaks of grime creeping up the walls. The inside wasn't much better it has dull tiles patched with mismatched replacements, fluorescent lights that flickered intermittently, and a faint, ever-present scent of fried street food from a nearby vendor.

Still, the mall was always alive with people. Families flocked to the discount stores, teenagers lounged around the food court, and salesmen peddled gadgets at small kiosks. For a city like ours, Pacific Mall was more than a shopping destination, it was a meeting place, a hub of daily life.

But on that day, everything changed.

I had just withdrawn my allowance from the second-floor ATM near a clothing store. Pocketing the cash, I leaned over the railing and looked down at the activity below. Shoppers milled about, their voices blending into a comforting hum. It was a scene I'd seen countless times, unremarkable in every way.

Then it happened.

The hum of the mall vanished, replaced by an eerie silence. I turned, expecting a power outage. But the fluorescent lights above me still buzzed faintly. Something was wrong.

A strange shimmer rippled through the air, distorting the familiar scene like heat waves rising off asphalt. The colors of the mall began to dull, the once-bright signs and displays fading into muted tones. I blinked, trying to shake off the sudden dizziness.

When I looked around again, the mall was empty.

It wasn't just the people who were gone. The noise, the energy, the very essence of the place had vanished, leaving behind an unsettling stillness. The escalators were frozen mid-motion, the electronic hum of the stores was silent, and even the air felt heavier, as if pressing down on me.

I took a hesitant step forward, the sound of my footfall echoing unnaturally in the empty space.

That's when I saw it.

A figure descended from the shattered skylight above, landing with a force that shook the floor beneath me. It was an Aswang, its gaunt, leathery form crouched like a predator. Its wings folded behind it, and its glowing red eyes locked onto something or someone behind me.

Slowly, I turned.

"Putang ***!!!" I screamed in my head hoping the creature won't notice me.

A young man stood about ten meters away, his back to me. He was an unusual sight in the abandoned mall, dressed in flowing robes that shimmered faintly, as if woven from threads of light. His hair was tied back, revealing a sharp, focused expression.

In his hand was a sword, a crescent-bladed weapon that seemed to hum with latent energy. It was unlike anything I'd ever seen, its edge glowing faintly, as though it was alive.

The Aswang snarled, baring its jagged teeth. "You think you can stop me, boy?" it hissed, its voice guttural and filled with contempt.

The young man didn't reply. He shifted into a stance, the blade of his sword angled downward, his body poised like a coiled spring.

"Leave now," he said, his voice steady and calm. "This is your last warning."

The Aswang let out a laugh, a harsh, grating sound that echoed through the empty mall. "Bold words for a novice."

Then, without warning, the creature lunged.

The young man moved faster than my eyes could follow. His blade flashed, creating arcs of golden light that sliced through the air. The Aswang snarled, dodging the attack with inhuman agility.

Their clash sent shockwaves rippling through the distorted space. Displays shattered, sending shards of glass flying. The escalator buckled under the force, its metal frame twisting like paper.

I ducked behind a pillar, my heart pounding in my chest.

The young man pressed forward, his movements fluid and precise. His blade struck true, cutting deep into the Aswang's flank. The creature howled in pain, its wings unfurling as it lashed out with its claws.

He dodged, pivoting with practiced grace, but the Aswang was relentless. It lashed its elongated tongue toward him, the appendage snapping like a whip. The young man barely managed to block it with his sword, the force of the impact sending him skidding backward.

"You're stronger than I expected," he admitted, his voice calm despite the beads of sweat forming on his brow.

"And you're weaker than I feared," the Aswang shot back, its voice dripping with malice.

The young man muttered something under his breath, and glowing symbols appeared around him, forming a protective barrier. The Aswang hissed in frustration, its claws striking the barrier with no effect.

But it wasn't giving up.

The creature spread its wings, letting out a piercing screech. The sound shattered the barrier like glass, sending shards of golden light scattering into the air.

The young man stumbled, clutching his sword tightly as his aura flickered.

I realized then that he wasn't just fighting for survival, he was protecting something.

He reached into his robes and pulled out a scroll. Even from my hiding place, I could feel the power emanating from it. The parchment was lined with intricate symbols, glowing faintly as if alive.

The Aswang's eyes locked onto the scroll, its lips curling into a predatory grin.

"That's what you're here for, isn't it?" the young man said, his tone sharper now.

"You're a mere courier," the Aswang sneered. "Delivering treasures you don't even understand."

The young man's grip on the scroll tightened. "This treasure isn't for you."

The Aswang lunged again, faster and more ferocious this time. The young man managed to dodge, but not completely. The creature's tongue grazed his arm, drawing blood.

The scroll flew from his grasp, landing just a few feet away from me.

"Take it!" the young man shouted, his voice filled with urgency. "Run!"

For a moment, I froze. My mind screamed at me to stay hidden, to stay safe. But something deeper, a strange, almost instinctual pull had compelled me to move.

I darted out from behind the pillar and grabbed the scroll. The parchment felt warm, almost alive, as I clutched it to my chest.

"Gag*, Why did he passed it on me. Takbo!" I cursed and scream my lungs out.

The Aswang's eyes widened in fury.

"Foolish boy!" it screeched, its wings unfurling as it launched toward me.

"Run!" the young man shouted again, his voice echoing through the distorted space.

I didn't need to be told twice.

I bolted, weaving through the wreckage of the mall. The once-familiar space now felt like a labyrinth, twisted and alien. The air grew colder, heavier with each step, and the sound of the Aswang's pursuit sent chills down my spine.

The young man fought to hold the creature back, his blade flashing as he intercepted its strikes. But I could hear the strain in his voice, the desperation in his shouts.

"Keep going!" he yelled, his words punctuated by the clash of metal and claw.

Ahead, the shimmering barrier that separated this dimension from reality came into view. It was faint, like a mirage, but it was my only chance.

I sprinted toward it, my lungs burning, the scroll clutched tightly in my hands. Behind me, the sounds of battle grew fainter, muffled by the heavy air.

Then, with one final push, I broke through the barrier.

The world snapped back into focus.

I stumbled onto the second floor of Pacific Mall, collapsing onto the cold tiles. The sounds of normal life rushed back, the chatter of shoppers, the hum of escalators, and the faint jingle of store advertisements.

But the scroll in my hands was proof that it wasn't a dream.

My chest heaved as I tried to catch my breath. The young man's face flashed in my mind, his desperate command echoing in my ears. He had sacrificed everything to protect this scroll.

And now, it was in my hands.