A ragged cough wrenched me awake. Blood splattered across the snow-white ground, steaming in the cold air.
But the pain I expected never came. It was as if some unseen force had already mended my wounds.
A gentle voice cut through the blur.
"Boy… boy, are you all right?"
Through my hazy vision I made out a figure bending over me—an old woman wrapped in a patched shawl. Her clothes were rough and simple, like something from the countryside of Earth in my past life. She touched my forehead with a calloused hand, eyes wide with worry.
"What is this injury? Poor child… who is the monster that did this to you?"
I tried to speak, but the air around us trembled like a struck bell.
> System Announcement:
Welcome, chosen players, to the Heaven's Tower of Trials.
You have been selected to challenge the tower in order to save your world.
Save my world?
The words hammered at my skull. My sister's face flickered in my memory—her last desperate push to get me away. I forced myself to stand, but my knees shook like reeds in a storm.
> Call "Status Window" to view your attributes and skills.
Almost without thinking, I whispered, "Status window."
A translucent panel bloomed before my eyes.
> Name: Fan Ling
Age: 32
Strength: 12
Agility: 10
Intelligence: 9
Mana: 20
Skill: Comprehension Lv. 1
"Thirty-two?!" My shout echoed off the snowbanks. "I'm ten!"
> System Error. Analyzing… Mana converted to Chi.
"What is this…?" I clenched my fists. It felt like an RPG had swallowed me whole.
I spun back toward the old woman. "Granny, have you seen my sister? Please, my sister—"
But the clearing was empty. She was gone as if she had never been there at all. The air shimmered, and the ground beneath me dissolved into light.
> System Announcement:
Teleporting participant to the First Floor.
Objective: Survive.
"Wait—!" My cry broke into sparks of gold as my body scattered into particles.
---
I reformed with a jolt, feet sinking into damp soil. Ancient trees loomed overhead, their canopies blotting out the sky. Distant howls rolled through the darkness. My breath came in sharp, frosty clouds.
> Objective: Kill 100 goblins.
Completion Reward: +10 Stat Points.
I gritted my teeth. "My clan's sword…?" My hands fumbled at my belt. The tiger-marked blade—the last piece of my family—was missing.
> Player, choose a weapon:
Staff – Channel mana to release Fireball.
Sword – +10 Strength.
Axe – +12 Strength.
Shield – +20 Defense.
The choice was obvious. I wrapped my fingers around empty air and whispered, "Sword."
Cold metal formed in my palm: a simple iron blade, plain but solid. The weight felt almost comforting.
A distant scream split the forest.
> Congratulations to the first player to slay a goblin: Name Unknown.
Someone was already fighting. My heartbeat quickened.
"Status window," I commanded.
> Skill Update: Comprehension Lv. 1 — Accelerates understanding of techniques.
A spark of hope flickered. Father's sword art… Maybe I could use it here.
I closed my eyes and summoned every lesson burned into memory—the stance, the breath, the single, perfect strike.
Then the truth hit me like a blade to the heart: Our family's technique is incomplete.
One strike. No follow-through. A beginning with no end.
Frustration roared inside me. I had run for my life, watched my sister taken, and this was all I had? One strike?
Pain lanced through my skull. The Comprehension skill drank greedily at my thoughts, pulling every detail of the art into sharp relief until it hurt to breathe.
"Aaaah!" I collapsed to my knees, veins bulging, vision fracturing. The forest warped and spun, branches twisting like serpents of light. It felt as if my head might split apart.
Still I clung to the memory of my father's stance—the way he whispered the name of the art before each swing. One strike is not the end, I told myself. It's the seed.
The pain built to a blinding crescendo. My sight went white, then black, then nothing at all.
And the darkness claimed me.
---