I stared down at the corpse at my feet, the one I’d just killed. A faint mystical blue light now shimmered around it—a sign I could reap a Skill. Probably a good one too, given the swordsman was clearly a cultivator.
I should’ve felt relief, even a little hope, knowing I’d gained something that might help me survive. But instead, I saw his eyes in my mind—wide with anger and fear—staring at me even now.
Damn it.
I couldn’t afford to break down, not with chaos erupting around me. I had to hide again and reap the Skill. Every second spent lingering felt like a risk, but I clenched my fists, forcing myself to focus. My legs trembled as I crouched beside the body.
“System, reap the Skill,” I muttered, my voice barely audible.
A screen flickered into existence before me.
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[System Analysis]
[You have defeated: Mid-Rank Spirit Swordsman.]
Available Skills to Reap:
Basic Swordsmanship (Passive), Rank 1:
Gain the knowledge and skill of a basic swordsman.
Core Cultivation Ability (Passive), Rank 1:
Obtain the ability to cultivate and circulate Chi within your core.
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I scanned the options, heart pounding. Both were tempting, but I didn’t hesitate. I chose Core Cultivation Ability. The sooner I could start cultivating, the better my chances of survival in this world.
The moment I made my selection, the body shimmered and dissolved into particles of blue light, leaving behind its sword and tattered clothing. A rush of energy flooded through me, sharp and overwhelming. My entire body felt electrified as knowledge and instincts that weren’t mine filled my mind. I could sense something new—an intangible force within me, waiting to be harnessed.
“Jayson!” Wang Jian’s voice snapped me back to reality. He stood a short distance away, bloodied but holding his ground as he clashed with two attackers. “Hide!” Get back to the wagon and get behind the crates, stay out of sight!
A flicker of confidence surged within me. For a moment, I wondered if I could help turn the tide of the battle. But the thought was fleeting. I shook my head. No, charging into the fray would be suicide. With a grimace, I left the body behind and scrambled back to the wagon, slipping behind the crates once more. Hiding as Wang Jian told me to.
But curiosity gnawed at me, so I edged closer to the front of the wagon, peeking over the crates to watch the chaos unfold. The battlefield was utter carnage. Wagons were toppled, fighters clashed viciously, and magic erupted in flashes of light and destruction. A beam of fire sliced through the air, a slab of earth shattered into flying shards, and a single sword swing reduced a wagon to splinters.
Yeah. I was hopelessly out of my depth.
These weren’t even the strongest cultivators—just small players in a much larger, deadlier game. Compared to what I would imagine would that of a God Tier, these fighters were nothing. That thought hit me harder than I expected, leaving me cold. I gripped the sword tightly, heart pounding as I watched the ebb and flow of the battle. When a bandit fell, I cheered silently. When a guard fell, I cursed under my breath.
Then, everything changed.
Shouts rose from the front of the caravan, spreading like wildfire:
“Victory is ours!”
“Kill them all!”
“The Black Hammer killed the captain!”
The guards’ line broke, chaos consuming them as the bandits surged. Some guards fled outright; others tried to regroup but were cut down as their comrades lost their nerve.
And then a black blur appeared.
It tore through the battlefield, tossing guards aside like trash. I barely registered the screams and crunch of bones as the guards who hadn’t fled were swiftly overwhelmed.
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Near the front, I spotted Wang Jian and Ming Lian. They were running—fleeing towards the hills. For a fleeting moment, Ming Lian locked eyes with me. He looked away, maybe ashamed. Or maybe not. He owed me nothing. But Wang Jian hesitated. His jaw tightened, and then he turned, sprinting toward me. Ming Lian cursed and followed after him.
I froze, my mind screaming at me to run too. I leaped off the wagon just as the blur caught up to them. It grabbed Wang Jian by the head and slammed him into the ground with a sickening crunch, he kicked him, sending him flying into a wagon, which exploded in a shower of splinters turning the boards into what looked like tooth-picks. Ming Lian lashed out in rage, his aura flaring, but the blur caught his arm, snapping it effortlessly before smashing him into the dirt. By the time I landed, it was over.
The blur slowed, and I saw him clearly for the first time—a tall, muscly man with a thick beard and a cruel smirk. A Warhammer hung on his back, though he hadn’t needed it to destroy Wang Jian and Ming Lian. His gaze locked onto mine, and my legs trembled. He stepped closer, towering over me, and leaned in. Part of me wanted to strike—lunge for his throat with my sword—but I knew it was hopeless. He grinned.
I stumbled back, falling hard, my sword clattering to the ground. Shame and frustration boiled inside me as I glared up at him. But then a boot filled my vision, and everything went dark. Some time went by, I didn’t know how long I was unconscious for, but when I awoke a gruff sounding asshole was shouting orders…
Alright, Get up —you fucking —scumbags!
I jolted awake to the sound and a sharp pain in my stomach. Gasping for air, I tried to process what had just happened. Someone had kicked me. Memories came flooding back as I blinked at my surroundings. I was lying on a cold dirt floor inside a massive tent—big enough to house several hundred people. All of us were chained. Some captives looked worse than others—filthy, gaunt, and exhausted. My stomach churned as the realization hit me: we were prisoners. No, worse than that, —slaves.
Several bandits, dressed in the same gear as the ones who had attacked us, moved around the tent, shouting at anyone who didn’t wake up fast enough and beating those who lagged behind. Their masks were now gone, revealing their faces.
“I said, —get the fuck up!”
Barked a thuggish man nearby with a big nose, his voice grating and filled with cruelty. He must’ve been the one who’d kicked me. There was something unsettlingly familiar about him. Right. He looked like a smaller, younger version of that hammer-wielding monster from before. At his feet, a scrawny captive struggled to sit up, his face pale and sunken. He didn’t look like a fighter—nothing like the guards from before. He reminded me of myself before I’d started martial arts training.
The bandit sneered and kicked the man again, harder this time. The poor guy retched, vomiting on the bandit’s boot. “Disgusting!” the man growled, stepping back in disgust before raising his foot as if to stomp the man’s head in.
“No! Stop!”
The words left my mouth before I could think.
The bandit froze, then turned slowly to face me. Oh, shit!
—You got something to say you little bastard?
He sneered, stomping over.
“No, I—”
Pain exploded in my stomach as he kicked me, sending me reeling. Stars danced in my vision as I hit the ground hard. Before I could recover, another kick to my stomach sent me skidding across the floor.
“Burrahbus!” a voice barked from across the tent.
“Stop playing with the slaves. Or do you want to take their place in the mines?”
“Yeah, yeah, OK whatever,”
Burrahbus muttered, stepping back. I felt his boot press against my back, pinning me down.
“You pathetic little shit,” You’re lucky you’re too weak to kill. But remember this, —open your mouth again, and I’ll break you. —Got it.
The pressure on my body increased.
“Do you understand?” He barked.
“Yes!” I gritted out through clenched teeth, barely holding back a scream.
Good...
He lifted his boot, then slammed it down inches from my face, cracking rocks and stones.
“Don’t forget this. —Now, get up!”
I clutched my aching body but forced myself to stand. My legs trembled as I avoided looking directly at him. If I dared to glare at his stupid fucking nose, I might not live to regret it.
Damn it, I hated this world. I hated being weak. Burrahbus shoved me roughly toward the tent entrance. I stumbled but managed to stay upright, following the rest of the captives outside. The world beyond the tent was bleak. The camp was surrounded by wooden walls, with a single wooden building at its center. The rest of the structures were makeshift tents and lean-tos, crude and haphazard.
We were herded into a line and handed wooden bowls. Water came first—lukewarm and murky—followed by a thin, runny rice porridge. The bowls were filthy, and the food didn’t look much better, but I forced it down. I’d need all the energy I could get.
Once we’d eaten, the bandits marched us toward the base of a massive cliff. A large cave loomed ahead—the mine. Inside, the cavern was dimly lit by strange blue torches that cast an eerie glow but didn’t produce any smoke. Wooden supports lined the walls, holding up the ceiling, though they looked dangerously old.
The main chamber branched off into a dozen smaller tunnels. At the far end, I could see other slaves toiling away under the watchful eyes of bandits, their whips cracking ominously. Our group was directed to one of the smaller tunnels, where we were handed pickaxes and peculiar blue torches. The bandits explained that the torches would last eighteen hours, signaling the end of our shift when they began to dim.
Then came the real catch, our quota. Each of us had to bring back either one spirit stone the size of a thumb or enough smaller ones to match it. The stones, semi-transparent and glowing faintly, could be found scattered throughout the tunnels—if we were lucky. And if we weren’t? Spirit beasts might get to them first.
The mention of spirit beasts sent a ripple of unease through the group. One of the bandits, the same bastard with the big nose, smirked as he warned us about the glowing blue moss deeper in the tunnels. That’s where the more dangerous creatures lurked, he said, but also where the best spirit stones could be found.
Despite the warning, relief washed over me when I realized the upper tunnels were relatively safe, only being home for lower rank spirit beasts and were supposed to be weak, nuisances more than threats. Maybe I could use this to my advantage. If these beasts dropped Skills like the bandits and guards had, I might have a chance to turn things around.
It wasn’t much, but it was hope. And right now, that was all I had.