"Is he alive?" someone shouted, disbelief lacing their voice. "You must be joking!"
I blinked, my gaze sweeping over the crowd surrounding me. They were clad in elaborate, pseudo-historical Asian robes, their faces a mix of shock, fury, and outright hostility. Men and women alike stared as if I'd risen from the grave. Where was I? My last memory was a blaring alarm from my virtual capsule and a searing pain that tore through me. This opulent palace, with its towering columns and intricate tapestries, was no hospital, nor did it resemble any game simulation I knew.
"Clan Leader, perhaps it would be kinder to finish him off," an elderly man with wispy whiskers said, bowing low before the man on the throne. The latter cast an appraising glance my way, and a shiver raced down my spine. Only then did I realize I was sprawled on the cold marble floor.
"Kinder to send you into retirement," I muttered, the words slipping out before I could stop them. Standing was a struggle, my legs trembling beneath me, but an instinct screamed that showing weakness here would be my death sentence.
The man on the throne leaned forward, his piercing eyes locking onto mine. "Kai Shen," he said, his voice resonant with authority. "Your audacity remains unshaken. Intriguing."
"Impossible!" a white-haired elder stepped forward, his voice trembling with indignation. "Only one in a thousand survives the destruction of their Qi cultivation, and to retain their sanity? Unthinkable! Clan Leader Cao Shen, this scoundrel is known for his vile nature. He must have used some trick!"
"Father, kill him!" a boy, no older than sixteen, burst out. "He stole the elders' techniques!"
Cao Shen shot the boy a look that could wither stone. "And defy the will of the Heavens?" he said, as if addressing a fool. "No. The punishment has been delivered. Kai Shen has lost his cultivation and all his techniques. From this day, he is barred from the clan's library until he atones for his sins. That is enough."
"Atone?" someone roared from the crowd. "How is that fair?"
Cao Shen ignored the outburst, waving a commanding hand. Two servants appeared at my side, and for a moment, I thought pain was blurring my vision. Then I realized—they were twins, identical down to their stoic expressions.
"Young Master, you should leave," one whispered.
I didn't argue. Standing was draining enough, and with every passing second, my strength waned. The world narrowed to a pinpoint. I managed to stumble out of the hall on my own, but the moment the heavy doors slammed shut behind me, my legs gave out. Darkness swallowed me, though I felt strong arms catch my limp body before I hit the ground.
I awoke to a sunbeam stabbing my eye, my body aching as if I'd been trampled by a herd of beasts. Beside an enormous bed, the twin servants sat cross-legged in a meditative pose.
"Young Master," one nodded as I stirred. "I'm glad you're awake."
"How long was I out?" I croaked.
"Three days," he replied. "Your father instructed us to inform you that you'll depart for the Frost Ridge Sect in two weeks."
"Why?"
"To join it," he said, as if stating the obvious. "It's the Clan Leader's order."
"Well, if it's the Clan Leader's order," I said, feigning compliance.
My mind, however, was a whirlwind of confusion. The root of it all was the mirror across the room—or rather, the reflection in it. Staring back was a boy, barely fourteen, with a mane of jet-black hair. And that boy was me. Strangely, I accepted this with a calm detachment. Reincarnation? Fine. But what happened next jolted me upright.
Archive unpacking complete.
Augmented reality system installed.
Interface calibration finished.
Wait. Was I in a game after all? How could this be? For the next five minutes, I tried every method I knew to summon a menu or trigger an emergency logout. Nothing worked. The twins began eyeing me oddly, their brows furrowed.
Fine. Time to face reality. This wasn't a game. Even the most advanced virtual reality couldn't achieve this level of immersion. Steeling myself, I opened the system interface. A minimalist panel greeted me, stark and unadorned.
Name: Kai Shen
Qi Reserve: 0
Rank: Mortal
Techniques: None
Talents:
Shen Clan Bloodline: Fire techniques are 50% stronger. Grants unique interactions with flame.Flame Tempering: Your body and spirit have been forged by fire. Physical attributes greatly enhanced. Mundane impurities cannot taint your fiery soul.
Qi? This sounded like something from a Chinese-inspired cultivation world—flying jade swords, mystical pills, and heavens-defying nonsense. I wasn't exactly an expert in this genre.
"What will I do in that sect?" I asked, calming myself.
"Cultivate, of course," one twin replied, bowing deeply. "Young Master, you may not realize it, but by some miracle, your spiritual root not only survived the elders' wrath—it grew stronger. Though you've lost all techniques and their memories, your potential has only deepened." He paused, then added, "The Clan Leader also ordered us to guard you these two weeks to prevent… incidents."
"Incidents?" I smirked, recalling the hostile crowd. "You mean to stop my dear family from killing me?"
"Your perceptiveness is astounding," he said, his tone teetering between sarcasm and respect.
"What are your names?" I sighed, a strange thrill bubbling within me. Why was I so excited?
"You don't remember?" the other twin asked, surprised. They exchanged a glance and nodded. "You may call me Cho, and my brother Sho, Young Master. The Clan Leader warned that your memory might be… fragmented. The elders burned away all your cultivation-related memories, a vast part of your life."
"Translation: Father thought I'd be a vegetable who could barely string two words together."
"Crude, but fair," Cho said, bowing again. "We're relieved his assumption wasn't entirely accurate."
Not entirely? This guy was definitely mocking me. "So, this cultivation thing—what is it?"
"It's easier to show than explain," they said in unison.
A fireball materialized beside Cho. Then another. I lost count at ten, and still they kept coming. Soon, the orbs began orbiting the room, and Cho conjured more, risking a blaze. The temperature soared, and a strange sensation pricked my senses—something beyond the flames, fleeting and elusive. It vanished when the fireballs dissipated.
"There's also this," Sho grinned. Twin ribbons of flame shot from his hands, morphing into massive Asian dragons. They coiled beneath the high ceiling, exuding that same strange power. Was this Qi?
Sho eventually grew bored, and the dragons dissolved into sparks that absorbed back into his body. I was stunned. Neither twin showed a hint of fatigue, and their casual mastery was staggering. Something told me they weren't unique. This palace likely housed hundreds like them—and I had once been among their ranks.
"As my guards, what do you advise?" I asked, already guessing their answer.
"Stay in your quarters," Cho said.
Predictable. I didn't respond. Instead, I instinctively opened a small door, revealing a wardrobe, and began dressing. My hands moved with practiced ease, muscle memory guiding me. Once presentable, I headed for the exit.
"Young Master?" Sho asked, puzzled.
"I want to take a walk," I replied.
It was probably idiotic, but an inner voice urged me to act. Hiding would only paint a target on my back. I had to show everyone I was alive and unafraid, or I wouldn't survive until the Frost Ridge Sect.
"Don't stray far," Sho said grimly.
To my surprise, no one attacked me the moment I stepped out. Instead, people bowed respectfully and cleared my path—though I caught muttered curses trailing in my wake. Oh, they loved me here.
My feet carried me forward, as if drawn by an unseen force. Past a garden of exotic trees, across a vast plaza where over a hundred warriors practiced katas, leaving trails of fire with each motion. The palace wasn't just grand—it was a sprawling complex, more a fortified city than a single building. I even stumbled upon a life-sized golden statue.
"Real gold," Cho confirmed when I asked.
"Scum! Looking for something else to steal from our clan?" a voice bellowed. I recognized him instantly—the boy who'd demanded my death in the throne room. Another of Cao Shen's sons. My brother, technically.
"Sorry, nothing in this clan's worth more than me," I grinned, assessing my odds. He wasn't alone; nearly ten others flanked him, their glares promising pain.
"Still barking?" he sneered. "Your cultivation's gone. You're just trash staining the Shen Palace's walls. I won't even dirty my hands. Break every bone in his body!"
His lackeys stepped forward, but Cho and Sho intercepted them. A blazing aura erupted around the twins, radiating unbearable heat. A crushing pressure hit me, urging me to flee. What was this? Gritting my teeth, I suppressed the urge and met my brother's gaze. He'd paled noticeably.
"Cho? Sho? What's this?" he stammered, retreating a step.
"The Young Master's orders," they replied.
"What? By the Heavens, why does Father protect this garbage?" he howled as his men slunk back. "You can't touch me, though, can you?"
The twins exchanged a glance, nodded, and stepped aside. Their auras vanished, and the pressure lifted. I could breathe again, but my brother's bloodthirsty grin soured my mood.
"He's at the second level of Qi Condensation," Sho said abruptly.
Great. Was that impressive or pathetic? I didn't get to ask. I dodged as my brother lunged, his strike swift and precise. He was skilled, but I wasn't helpless. Years of virtual fighting games kicked in—or so I thought. A sharp pain exploded in my gut as his fist connected.
"Trying to dance?" he laughed, throwing another punch. I blocked it on reflex, barely.
"Just pitying you," I snarled, aiming a low sweep. "So old, yet stuck at the second level."
My taunt hit its mark. His eyes blazed—literally, glowing with fire. He charged, swinging wildly. Something clicked within me, an instinct or epiphany. I sidestepped, grabbed his arm, and redirected his momentum. He crashed headfirst into the golden statue with a resounding thud.
"Done?" I asked after ten seconds. He lay groaning, clutching his head.
"You're dead, Kai, you bastard!" he hissed, ripping an amulet from his neck.
Before he could act, Sho stepped forward and knocked him out with a single strike. What was that? Couldn't they have done that sooner? Or was this some test?
"Congratulations on your victory, Young Master!" the twins said, bowing again.
Servants in red-and-black robes—similar to ours, but plainer—hurried over, likely to cart off my unconscious brother. Our hanfu, adorned with gold embroidery and intricate patterns, marked us as higher status. Hanfu. Odd that I recalled the term.
"Let's keep walking," I sighed, watching the servants carry him away.
The twins followed like silent shadows. My feet led me toward a towering building on the complex's edge. Pagoda of Knowledge, a strange phrase surfaced in my mind.
"Young Master, the Clan Leader banned you from the library," Cho said suddenly. It was amusing how I could distinguish them despite their identical faces.
"The clan library," I corrected. "Is that in this building?"
"No, but—"
"Then it's fine," I said, pushing open the heavy door. Cho looked ready to protest but held his tongue.
"Thief! Get out before I rain fire on your empty head!" an old man roared. He resembled a shriveled apple, but the power radiating from him sent a chill through me.
"Venerable Elder, if you unleash a fire rain, you'll burn all these tomes," I said, gesturing to the countless bookshelves.
"Out! The Clan Leader forbade you from nearing the library!"
"The clan library," I corrected again, feeling a mounting pressure—not unlike the statue incident, but sharper, laced with killing intent. What a cranky old man.
"A slip of the tongue," he grumbled.
"So, Venerable Elder, you not only deny the Clan Leader's son but question his decrees?" I smiled, pushing him over the edge. Crimson runes flared around him, his eyes turning into fiery voids.
"Elder Mo," the twins stepped forward.
"I know, I know," the old man waved them off. The threat vanished, his eyes returning to normal. "Never thought this brat would stay such a disrespectful punk even after losing his cultivation. What do you want, mortal?"
"Take me to the cultivation books," I said, earning a twitch of his eye.
"Third floor, all of it! What, little Kai, you forgot?" he cackled.
I ignored him and climbed the stairs, the old man trailing behind. The third floor was packed with books—a whole shelf's worth. Most of the space held reading tables, a few occupied by burly men who bowed to Elder Mo and the twins but ignored me.
"You didn't hide any books from me, did you?" I asked.
"Most cultivation texts are in the clan library," the librarian snickered. The twins nodded in confirmation.
Gritting my teeth at his smugness, I grabbed a book. Then nearly slapped myself. The pages were filled with Chinese characters—yet I understood them perfectly.
This was beyond muscle memory. Fighting skills, maybe, but a whole language? Then it hit me: what language had I been speaking this whole time?
"Kekib myumle ya dolba papadans," I tried in my native tongue. It came out garbled, my throat unaccustomed to the sounds.
"Ha! See? The Heavens stripped this thief of his wits!" Elder Mo crowed. Justice prevailed!
The twins only glanced at me oddly, saying nothing. I barely noticed, my attention fixed on the book—or rather, what appeared in my vision.
Blazing Strike Technique
Rank: Mortal
Would you like to learn?
Cost: 100 Qi
My chances of survival just skyrocketed. Now, if only I could find some Qi. My reserve was a proud zero, and this stripped-down system offered no "fix everything" button. Another question nagged me: in most games, learning a skill destroyed the book. Would it here?
"How valuable are these books?" I asked thoughtfully. "What happens if one gets… damaged?"
"Try it, mortal, and you'll never set foot in a library again," Elder Mo said, eerily calm.
Before I could retort, a crushing pressure slammed into me. I turned just in time to see a white-hot fireball hurtling my way. A blurred shadow moved, and the room erupted in searing heat. Amid the roar, a faintly familiar voice cut through.
"Kai, you bastard! Prepare to die!"