"A weapon forgotten is a soul unsharpened. A root unformed is a body unclaimed."
The next morning arrived slowly.
Gray mist blanketed the rice fields of Yuexi, curling around wooden stilts and thatched roofs like patient ghosts. Smoke rose from cookfires. The scent of boiled roots and bitter tea filled the air.
Rael sat cross-legged beneath a leaning pine at the edge of the village.
He hadn't slept.
Not fully.
Not peacefully.
---
[Qi: 17 / 100]
[Trait: Beast Vigor (Feral Instinct +10%) — Time Remaining: 1hr 12min]
[System Note: Residual wild essence detected. Mental clarity compromised if overused.]
[Objective: Form Martial Root]
---
He focused inward.
Cultivation wasn't just about absorbing energy — it was about anchoring it, directing it, forging the right path. The Martial Root was the first foundation. A declaration to the heavens:
"This is who I am."
Rael's fingers closed into fists.
Who was he?
A ghost?
A cursed soul?
No.
He reached into the fragments of memory — not of this body, but the one before. Flashes of combat. Of surviving betrayal. Of standing alone, surrounded by corpses, laughing through blood.
What had he relied on?
Not strength.
Not speed.
But calculation.
And wrath.
[New Concept Detected: Martial Path - "Scythe of the Unyielding"]
[Forging Martial Root…]
[Qi insufficient. Supplement required.]
His eyes opened.
Still too weak.
He needed more Qi — and not just from beasts. He needed a technique. Even the most basic Qi circulation method could multiply his gains.
But he had none.
He stood.
It was time to find one.
---
Yuexi Village – Southern Edge
The boy from before — Lian — ran up as Rael reached the outskirts.
"You're leaving already?"
"I need something."
Lian tilted his head. "What?"
"Books. Manuals. Anything on cultivation."
The boy bit his lip. "That stuff's all in Qinghe City… or maybe…"
Rael turned toward him.
The boy hesitated, then nodded. "There's a ruined temple east of here. Nobody goes there anymore. My sister said it was from the old sect days. Maybe you'll find something."
Rael raised a brow. "How far?"
Lian pointed. "Half a day if you walk. Through the silver reed marsh. Lots of weird birds and frogs."
Rael nodded once. "Thank you."
"Wait!" Lian dug into his pocket. "Take this." He handed over a crude charm made of twine and old wood. "My grandma says it keeps spirits away."
Rael accepted it. "I don't believe in spirits."
"Then believe in me!"
A pause.
Then, for the first time in this life, Rael smiled faintly.
"Alright."
---
Silver Reed Marshlands
The road east vanished quickly.
The marsh was alive — buzzing with insects, the croak of monstrous frogs echoing through trees. The reeds rose tall and silver-pale, brushing against his face like dry fingers. Water sucked at his boots.
Twice he paused to listen.
Once he heard a splash — large, heavy.
But he kept going.
Hours passed.
The trait faded.
[Beast Vigor expired.]
His senses dulled slightly, the false clarity fading. But his mind remained sharp.
Then—
He saw it.
A broken torii gate, half-buried in moss. Stone lanterns covered in vines. The path narrowed into cracked flagstones, leading to a sunken shrine at the edge of the marsh.
The ruin was real.
---
Fallen Temple of Crimson Thread
Inside, the air was still. Dust hung like breathless spirits. Faded murals lined the walls — images of warriors with long blades, birds with golden eyes, a woman draped in moonlight holding a thread of blood.
A corpse sat slumped near the altar.
Old. Mummified.
Clutching something.
Rael approached carefully.
[Detected: Decayed Manual – "Crimson Thread Breathing"]
[Grade: Incomplete / Obsolete]
[Compatibility: 32%]
[Warning: Practicing an obsolete method may hinder future advancement.]
Rael stared at the book.
He picked it up. Flipped the cover.
The diagrams were worn, but not illegible. It was crude — no real art, no philosophy, no specialized flowchart.
But it was better than nothing.
[Download Manual?]
[Y/N]
"…Y."
[Crimson Thread Breathing technique acquired.]
[Qi absorption rate +15% (Basic Tier)]
[Martial Root compatibility recalculating…]
He sat cross-legged by the altar.
And began.
---
Time passed.
Breath in.
Breath out.
He guided the faint Qi around his spine, across his chest, down his limbs. The technique burned — slightly inefficient, slightly unstable — but it worked.
He visualized a red thread passing through his core, winding through his veins, stitching his soul to his flesh.
[Qi: 34 / 100]
[Progress toward Martial Root: 71%]
Something moved outside.
Rael opened his eyes.
Footsteps. Heavy.
Then—shouting.
"Oi! You saw that bastard come this way?"
Another voice. "Don't lie to me, old man!"
Rael stood.
---
Outside the Temple
Three men. Leather armor. Cheap blades. One held a struggling elder by the neck.
Bandits.
But not starving ones. These were opportunists — the kind that preyed on travelers at the marsh edge. Well-fed. Arrogant.
One spotted Rael stepping out from the shrine's shadow.
"Well, well—what's this? Another grave thief?"
Rael didn't reply.
The leader grinned, drawing a curved saber. "Leave your pack and kneel. We'll let you limp home."
Rael tilted his head. "You shouldn't have come here."
The man laughed. "Oh? Are you going to pray me to death?"
"No."
He reached behind, gripped the old ceremonial blade left on the altar — rusted, chipped, unbalanced.
But it would do.
[Weapon: Rusted Spirit Saber – Durability: Low]
[Temporary Compatibility: 54%]
The first man rushed forward.
Rael sidestepped. Pivoted.
Cut low.
The saber sliced through the man's knee. A scream erupted. Blood sprayed.
The second charged. Rael blocked, kicked, twisted, slammed the hilt into the man's throat. A brutal efficiency — not flashy, just fatal.
The third tried to run.
Rael threw the saber.
It spun once.
Twice.
Struck the back of the man's skull with a sickening thud.
[Enemies slain: 3]
[Qi gained: +9]
[Total Qi: 43 / 100]
[Trait acquired: Moment of Precision (+15% Accuracy for next strike | Duration: 5 minutes)]
[Caution: Trait degradation in progress.]
Rael wiped blood from his brow.
The elder bowed deeply. "T-thank you, cultivator."
Rael retrieved the saber, now cracked further. "Leave this place."
The man nodded and fled.
---
As night fell, Rael returned to the temple.
He sat again.
Crossed his legs.
Focused.
The crimson thread in his mind burned brighter now.
Sharper.
Almost… real.
[Martial Root formation: 99%...]
[Trigger event required: Intent declaration.]
Rael opened his eyes.
Stared into the darkness.
And whispered:
"I am the Scythe.
I reap what the world tries to hide.
Let blood be my seed.
Let silence be my blade."
[Martial Root Formed: "Unyielding Scythe"]
[Qi absorption efficiency increased.]
[Combat Insight: +5% when facing armed enemies.]
[Next Objective: Seek Weapon Technique.]
He stood.
The temple behind him faded into shadow.
A red thread followed in his steps.