My whole body ached like glass about to shatter.
Every heartbeat felt like a hammer. My hands shook from the aftershock of the last strike, teeth grinding until I tasted iron.
I forced the words out. "Status…window."
> Chi: 0 / 20
No wonder I couldn't move. Even though the system healed my wounds, my dantian was dry as sand.
I dragged nine of my precious stat points into Chi.
At once a strange heat swelled in my core, like the world itself breathing through me. The dantian stretched—wider, heavier. My limbs loosened. I could stand.
> Chi: 9 / 29
I planted the sword like a cane and staggered forward.
Each step rang through the forest floor. Shelter. I needed shelter before the next wave.
A tall tree rose ahead. I clenched the blade between my teeth and climbed, fingers scraping bark, every muscle screaming. At last I perched high, hidden in the leaves, and tried to breathe.
Meditation. Circulate the chi. Father's voice whispered in memory: gather the river, guide it back to the sea.
Sweat poured until my clothes stuck to me. A sudden click inside—like a lock breaking.
Breakthrough.
The system didn't announce it, but I knew: Second-Rate Warrior, Middle Stage.
Father once told me the path:
Fourth-Rate, Third-Rate, Second-Rate, First-Rate… then Peak Master, Converging Tree, Flowers, Transcendence and more.
And each "rate" wasn't just a single step.
Every rate hides three realms: early, middle, late.
Climb all three or you'll never touch the next rank.
I had barely stepped onto the second-rate—middle realm now. A long climb still waited.
Exhaustion dragged me under. I woke hours later to a bird pecking my head. I swatted it away, irritated.
The sword the system gave me was starting to crack. Thin lines, spider-webbing along the edge. One more Heaven-Rending Fang and it would break for sure.
That strike… too dangerous. Only if there's no other choice.
"Status window," I whispered.
> Chi: 9 / 29
Comprehension: Lv.1 — Cooldown 29 days
Still nothing new. Why doesn't it ever list Father's art? Why does the tower refuse to call it a technique? The question burned hotter than the pain. Maybe the tower can't measure it. Maybe it fears it.
I jumped from the tree, landing soft.
Something prickled at the edge of my senses—a faint pressure, like cold mist.
Was this a new ability? I could feel presences now, dangerous ones.
A rustle in the bushes. I moved before thought, slashing quick and low.
The goblin's head rolled free.
More came. One by one I cut them down, silent as I could.
Then a sudden chill at my back. Killing intent.
I spun aside just in time.
A goblin in full iron armor loomed over me.
"F—" I hissed. This was no common pest.
Its sword crashed against mine. Sparks leapt. I countered, searching for an opening, but every strike met cold steel. I tried a heavy slash—blocked. The impact sent me skidding.
He kicked. I barely brought the blade down to absorb the force, knees buckling. The creature roared, red eyes furious over the bodies of its fallen kin.
Sweat ran into my eyes. My breath came ragged. I forced chi into my legs, into the sword, and lunged. He met me head-on, sword ringing. The clash shattered my weapon—fragments spinning through the air.
Pain flared as he caught my ankle, twisting until I cried out. I swung a punch; he spun, hurling me across the clearing.
I gripped the broken blade and closed my eyes, feeling for his aura.
The goblin charged.
I ducked under the slicing edge, leapt back to gain distance.
How am I supposed to kill a hundred of these when one is a nightmare?
Another strike came. I ran—dashed for a tree and climbed, the goblin thundering below. Armor slowed him. I leapt from branch to branch, then dropped behind him, broken sword flashing.
Steel met flesh.
The armored goblin fell.
I barely had time to breathe. A new pressure pressed in—many presences. Too many.
I ran. Chi surged into my legs, every step a desperate gamble.
An arrow grazed my cheek. Ten goblins, maybe more, closed in. Some scaled the trees, others fired from below.
Then I saw him—their commander, riding a massive black wolf. My stomach turned to ice.
I sprinted harder. The wolf's howl followed, echoing through the forest.
A sudden blaze of light broke the darkness ahead: moonlit water. A river.
I dove for it without thinking.
The cold hit like knives.
I clung to a floating log, letting the current pull me. Arrows hissed overhead, some finding the water with dull splashes.
Farther down, a thunderous roar grew louder.
A waterfall.
"Why…why always me," I muttered through clenched teeth.
The current ripped me forward.
The world tilted, water and sky spinning as the edge rushed closer.
I sucked a deep breath, wrapped my arms tighter around the log, and let the river take me over the falls.
Darkness and spray swallowed everything.