DONT YOU DARE THINK THIS IS JUST ANOTHER AI SLOP , Please Read some chapters First Then You are free to decide.
The sun, a pale, indifferent disc above the perpetual haze of Thornhide Outpost, offered little warmth. Its muted light barely penetrated the narrow alleys where Ren moved, each step heavy with the familiar ache of an empty stomach and the crushing weight of another fruitless day. The air, a stagnant blend of damp earth and stale cooking fires, clung to their tattered robes. Hope had long since been an unfamiliar luxury, replaced by the numb exhaustion that was the common lot of a peasant scavenger in this forsaken fringe.
Today, Ren had ventured deeper into the cursed ruins on the outpost's outskirts. Locals, even the few timid cultists who dabbled in forgotten rites, steered clear, believing the place saturated with the "unclean" spiritual residue of some ancient, nameless disaster. For Ren, however, 'cursed' simply meant 'unpicked-over'.
Their calloused fingers, stained with grime and sweat, moved with mechanical efficiency, sifting through the debris. Crumbled bricks, splintered beams, rust-eaten spiritual fragments, broken ceramic, and tattered robes passed through their grasp. Each item was devoid of value, saturated only with the faint, impure tang of forgotten spiritual energy, too diluted and tainted to be of any use. Their breath hitched sometimes, a desperate cough rasping in their throat, but they kept moving.
Then, beneath a cracked, obsidian-like shard of what might have once been a ceremonial altar, their fingers brushed against something unusually smooth. Not wood, not stone, not metal. It was a dull, unassuming grey stone, no larger than a clenched fist. It looked like common granite, utterly devoid of any spiritual aura, which was precisely why it had laid untouched for centuries. Even to Ren's practiced eye, it was just another rock.
They moved to discard it, but as their hand shifted, an unseen sliver on the stone's surface, sharp as a shard of obsidian, scraped across their palm. A tiny, burning cut blossomed, and before Ren could even register the sting, a single, glistening drop of blood welled up and fell directly onto the dull grey surface.
For a heartbeat, nothing. Then, a faint, internal light pulsed within the stone, barely perceptible, like a dying ember catching breath. The light grew, infinitesimally, and to Ren's shock, the stone began to shimmer, its dull exterior dissolving. It didn't melt or crumble; it simply dematerialized, flowing into the tiny cut on Ren's palm like mist drawn by an invisible current, vanishing entirely into their body.
A sudden, sharp tingling sensation erupted in Ren's mind, followed by a dizzying rush of foreign information. It wasn't pain, but an overwhelming influx of data, too much to process at once. Disorientation threatened to pull them under, but just as quickly, it subsided, leaving behind a profound sense of something new settled within them.
Before their eyes, a translucent interface, shimmering faintly like heat haze over stone, materialized out of thin air. Only Ren could see it.
[Fragmented Ancient Artifact Integrated. System Initializing...]
The words glowed briefly before dissolving into another line. Ren blinked, then blinked again, trying to shake the cobwebs from their mind. Was this real? Had the hunger finally driven them mad?
[Unique System: Salvage & Refine - Tier 1 Activated.]
[First Skill Acquired: Raw Energy Siphon (Passive)][Effect: Grants the ability to passively draw and purify residual, impure spiritual energy from discarded items and the environment. Converts energy into 'Salvage Points' and minuscule amounts of pure 'Cultivation Essence'.]
[First Stat Boost: Spiritual Affinity +10 (You can now dimly sense spiritual energy!) | Perception +5 (Enhanced awareness of surroundings)]
Ren gasped, a choked sound lost in the quiet of the ruins. A faint, almost imperceptible tingling spread through their limbs, particularly their hands. And then, a profound shift. The mundane debris around them, the crumbled bricks, the tattered robes, even the very air, now seemed to hum with a faint, almost imperceptible warmth. It was the "impure tang" they had always sensed, but now... now it felt different, almost within reach. Their senses sharpened, too. The individual grains of sand on the ground, the distant rustle of a rat in the rafters, the faint scent of charcoal from a faraway hearth – all became clearer, more distinct.
Cultivation Essence? Raw Energy Siphon? Spiritual Affinity? Ren had heard the words, whispered in hushed tones by the outpost's few failed cultivators, but they were concepts as distant as the Sky Palaces themselves. Could it be? Could they, a dirt-poor scavenger, actually... cultivate? The very idea was absurd, yet the evidence was right there, shimmering before their eyes, and a newfound, almost terrifyingly vivid awareness blooming in their mind.