Silas sat cross-legged near the mini-pagoda, his eyes flicking between the glowing timer—just under eight minutes left—and the contents of the bags he had scavenged from Mac and Val. Val's bag had been the more useful of the two. Inside, he'd found waterproof matches that looked like they could light a fire in a monsoon, a decently stocked first-aid kit, and some vacuum-sealed rations that weren't exactly appetizing but would keep him alive. Mac's bag, on the other hand, was almost laughable. It was stuffed with ammo. Useless, deadweight ammo. Silas picked up one of the cartridges, turning it over in his hand with a faint smirk before tossing it aside. "You packed for the wrong apocalypse, buddy," he muttered to himself.
The air around him was quiet except for the faint hum of the pagoda behind him. Then, movement drew his eye.
Emerging from the treeline was the blonde girl he'd chased off earlier. But now she wasn't alone. Beside her was a guy—around her age, maybe twenty or so—stepping into the clearing with casual confidence. Silas tilted his head slightly, studying him. The guy looked like he had at least some clue what he was doing out here. His gray hoodie was snug but practical, and his cargo pants looked functional, if a bit worn. Hiking boots peeked out from under the pant legs, scuffed but intact, and his dark brown hair was cut short, neatly trimmed. He carried an aluminum baseball bat, gripping it loosely in one hand. It gleamed faintly in the sunlight filtering through the trees, its clean surface a sharp contrast to the chaos around them.
The guy tapped the bat against his palm as he approached, his gait unhurried. "Hey, kid," he called out, his tone light but confident. "Looks like you found one of those pagoda things the voice keeps talking about. I was thinking I'd scout it out for you."
Silas's expression didn't change, but inwardly he felt his annoyance tick upward. He straightened, gripping Mac's rifle where it rested beside him. Standing slowly, he hefted the weapon onto his shoulder and aimed it at the pair. The sunlight glinted off the barrel, and Silas let the silence stretch for a moment before he spoke. "Rule of thumb," he said coolly, his voice carrying easily across the clearing, "don't bring a bat to a gunfight."
He watched their reactions carefully. The girl flinched visibly, taking a sharp step to the side, her eyes darting to her companion. "Dude!" she hissed, her voice a mix of frustration and alarm.
The guy stiffened, and Silas could see the confidence drain from his posture. Slowly, the guy raised one hand in surrender while lowering the bat with the other. "Hey, take it easy," he said, his tone suddenly cautious. "No need for that."
Silas noticed how the guy subtly shifted behind the girl, using her as a shield without a second thought. So much for gallantry, Silas thought, his lip curling faintly. He didn't lower the rifle.
"Relax, kid. We'll leave," the guy said quickly, his voice taking on a placating tone. "There's another pagoda nearby… I'll go check that one out instead."
Silas didn't respond immediately. He just kept the rifle aimed, his expression neutral. After a tense moment, he gave a slight nod. "Good idea," he said flatly.
The pair began to back away, the guy keeping himself behind the girl as they moved toward the treeline. The blonde threw a glance over her shoulder as they disappeared into the woods, her expression unreadable.
When they were gone, Silas exhaled slowly, lowering the rifle. His hands lingered on the weapon, turning it over thoughtfully. It had been a good bluff. The guy folded instantly, not even questioning whether the gun worked. Silas smirked faintly to himself as he set the rifle down. "Guess you're not so useless after all," he muttered, glancing at the timer on the mini-pagoda's door. Five minutes left.
He rubbed the back of his neck, shaking his head. "Yeah… I'll definitely keep this thing around. Might come in handy."
Silas sat there as the timer finally ticked down, and the system's familiar chime echoed in his mind.
Host can now enter the mini-pagoda.
"Well, here we go," Silas muttered, standing up and brushing the dirt off his pants. He approached the door, which slid open with an effortless hiss. He stepped inside and paused, taking in the room.
It was simple yet oddly striking, like stepping onto the set of an old martial arts film. The polished wooden floors gleamed under a soft, natural light that had no discernible source. The seamless walls were smooth and unbroken, with no windows or visible fixtures to explain the illumination. The space was empty except for the stark, imposing monolith standing in its center.
Silas approached cautiously, his footsteps echoing faintly in the stillness. The monolith was massive, rising twice his height, its glossy black surface as smooth as glass. It reflected faint, distorted images of the room, including his own silhouette. There was no hum, no glow, no ominous presence—just a cold, silent monument that seemed as out of place here as he did.
The system chimed in. Congratulations, host, for being the 92nd human to enter a mini-pagoda. 250 merits are awarded!
"Ninety-second?" Silas said, his brow furrowing. "The world's ending, and I'm somehow ahead of the curve. Fantastic."
The system ignored his commentary and continued: Before selecting your reward, host must choose a cultivation technique. Because you are among the first 100 to enter a mini-pagoda, your chosen technique will receive a upgraded from practitioner grade to spirit grade.
Silas scratched the back of his head, his eyes darting to the monolith. "Cultivation technique… practitioner to spirit… spirt must be better," he murmured. "Sure, why not? Let's keep the weirdness rolling." He murmured as he continued.
Would host like to choose a body cultivation technique or a spirit cultivation technique?
Silas froze, blinking at the monolith as though it might suddenly explain everything. "Body? Spirit? Care to elaborate, system?" He waited, but nothing came. "Right. Why would you suddenly start being helpful?"
The system remained silent, letting the question hang in the air like a forgotten thread. But the next line hit like a hammer.
You have chosen the path of enduring—high risk, high reward. You earn merits by surviving. Everything comes at a cost of merit.
Silas frowned, the words settling in his mind like stones. Path of enduring? That sounded… ominous. What exactly was he supposed to endure? The phrase felt heavy, like it had deeper implications he wasn't ready to face. Was this tied to why he couldn't enter the main pagodas? Or maybe it was connected to how the system had healed him—his legs, his body, everything. Either way, it didn't feel like an upgrade. It felt like a test.
He exhaled, shaking off the thought. "Okay, system, let's start small. How do I check my merits?"
The system responded immediately: Basic question. 50 merits deducted, 1200 merit points remaining.
Silas stared blankly at the monolith. "You're charging me to ask how much I have? That's highway robbery."
Ignoring him completely, the system replied, To check your merits, think: status.
"Of course," Silas muttered, running a hand down his face. "Why didn't I think of that?" Shaking his head, he closed his eyes and exhaled slowly. "Alright, status."
Status: Silas Creed
Name: Silas Creed
Race: Human
Cultivation Technique: None
Cultivation Type: None
Cultivation Technique Rank: None
Cultivation Limit: Unknown
Greater Dao: None
Lesser Dao: None
Techniques: None
Merits: 1200
Silas tilted his head, scanning the first line. Race: Human. He frowned thoughtfully. "Human. Sure, that checks out. But…" His brow furrowed as he tapped the side of his temple. "Why even specify that? Are there other options? Like… what, elves? Demons? Aliens?" He muttered to himself, trying to piece it together. "If there are other races out there… that'd explain why the system bothered pointing out mine."
His gaze moved to the next line. Physique: None. He let out a low whistle. "None? Really? Not even 'Average Joe'? That stings a little." He rolled his shoulders experimentally, feeling the faint ache from earlier. "Alright, system. I get it—I'm not special yet. Noted."
Cultivation Technique: None. Cultivation Type: None. Cultivation Technique Rank: None. Silas stared at the triple "None" entries and raised an eyebrow. "Well, that's just inspiring. This is really driving home the whole 'you're a nobody' theme, isn't it?"
Then his eyes landed on the next line. Cultivation Limit: Undetermined. He paused, his lips pressing into a thin line. "Undetermined. Not sure how to feel about that one." He squinted at the screen, as if expecting it to clarify itself. "Does that mean limitless, or does it mean you haven't decided if I'm trash yet?" He exhaled sharply through his nose. "Love the ambiguity."
The next section, Greater Dao: None. Lesser Dao: None, earned a shrug. "No idea what that even means, so… I'll file that under 'figure out later.'"
Finally, his eyes settled on the last line. Merits: 1200. Silas leaned back slightly, crossing his arms. "Okay, so I'm not completely broke. Good to know. Though, if fifty merits barely bought me a question…" He tilted his head. "This is probably the system's way of telling me to spend wisely. Noted."
He stood there for a moment, letting it all sink in. The screen painted a picture of emptiness—a blank slate waiting to be written on. He wasn't discouraged, though. If anything, it confirmed one thing: everyone probably started the same way.
"Alright," Silas said finally, scratching his chin. "Starting from zero, and everyone else probably is too." He glanced at the Race: Human line again, his curiosity lingering. "Assuming, of course, everyone else is human.
Silas rubbed his chin thoughtfully, staring at the glowing screen. He didn't want to waste all his merits on pointless questions. The system had called itself the Cultivation Assist System—maybe it was time to actually lean into that.
"You said you're a Cultivation Assist System," he muttered. "So assist me. What are my next steps?"
The screen flickered briefly before the system responded. Calculating… 100 merit points deducted, 1100 merit points remaining.
Silas raised an eyebrow. "Really? 100 merit points?
The system displayed a list:
Step 1: Ask for shop options.
Step 2: Request a basic lesson in shop options.
Step 3: Ask for a basic lesson: What is the 'Endured'?
Step 4: Ask for a basic lesson: What is cultivation?
Step 5: Request an advanced analysis of which cultivation method suits you best—Body or Spirit.
Step 6: Choose a cultivation method.
Step 7: Request a master-level lesson on how to cultivate.
Step 8: Ask for a complimentary Ring of Holding.
The system chimed again. Host must ask for each step individually. Assisting doesn't mean doing it all for you. You're welcome.
Silas sighed, rubbing his temples. "Figures. Alright, fine—step one. What are my shop options?"
The shop options appeared in bold text, hovering in the air like some digital storefront:
1. Lesson
2. Analysis
3. Resource
4. Utilize
Silas stared at the options, one brow arching slightly. "Alright," he muttered. "Basic enough… I guess."
He focused on the first option. "Okay, give me a basic lesson about the shop."
The system chimed immediately. 100 merit points deducted. Host has 1000 merit points remaining.
The screen flickered, then updated with a text-based response that felt more like a lecture than an interactive guide:
Shop Overview
The shop does not have traditional lists. The Assist System is only limited by the will of your world.
Current Limit: Practitioner Grade.
Lessons: Lessons are divided into three tiers—Basic, Advanced, and Master. They can be verbal or interactive. Simply ask, and you shall learn. But be warned: the more advanced the tier and/or complicated topic, the more merit points it will cost.
Analysis: Have a plant or rock you don't recognize? The Analysis function can tell you what it is. Basic Analysis will give you a general identification. Advanced Analysis will provide detailed knowledge of how it can be used. Analysis isn't limited to just resources—you yourself can be judged! (I mean, analyzed.)
Silas snorted softly. "Judged by my own system? Sounds about right."
Resources: Need something? As long as you've got the merit points, I've got it. Matches? Merit points! A weapon? Merit points! Additional time training in the mini-pagoda? Merit points! If you can think of it and it's within system limits, it's yours… for a price.
Silas frowned slightly, his mind catching on the last point. "Wait—additional time in the pagoda? Is my time here limited?"
The system didn't respond directly, but another screen popped up in front of him:
Time Remaining in Mini-Pagoda: 47 hours and 52 minutes.
"Two days," Silas muttered. "So that's all I get. Good to know."
The system continued, ignoring his commentary.
Utilize: Have a resource you don't have the means of using? Utilize is for you! Can't refine an ore? Can't craft a weapon? Can't process a herb? Utilize will convert the resource into its usable form—for a fee, of course.
"Great," Silas muttered to himself, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "So it's basically a one-stop shop for everything I can think of—at a cost. Figures."
The system chimed again: 10 quotes do not cost merit points per visit to the mini-pagoda.
"Huh," Silas said, his lips twitching into a small grin. "That's… surprisingly generous for something so clearly designed to drain me dry."
He leaned back slightly, thinking it all through. So, the shop was essentially like some infinite input field. If you could name it, and it was within the system's current limits, you could have it—though everything cost merit points. He'd need to be smart about this. No blowing his stash on useless questions or frivolous items.
Silas narrowed his eyes at the glowing screen. "Alright, system. What exactly are the 'endured', basic lesson?"
System started with deducting another 100 merit points, he had 900 remaining.
The Endured: Those who survive what is known as the Awakening Crucible, a three-year period following the Awakening of a world's will, during which awakening spiritual energy blankets the planet. The Crucible challenges those who choose to forgo the safety of the main pagoda and endure the dangers of the newly awakened world.
You experienced the world being imbued with awakening spiritual energy. You may have noticed its effects—know that every living creature and the world itself were similarly altered. Specifically, the unsentient creatures of your world will now be significantly more dangerous.
Food: Plants and wildlife will be abundant due to the cleansing and enhancement by awakening spiritual energy. However, caution is advised—plants may exhibit unexpected traits, including a heightened awareness.
Mini-pagodas: Scattered throughout the world, mini-pagodas are key resources during the Crucible. They are single-use and dissolve after being entered. Furthermore, individuals who enter a mini-pagoda cannot access another for three months.
Merit Points: Earned through notable actions such as:
• Defeating beasts.
• Taking merits from other sentient races.
• Exploring hidden realms or inheritances.
• Completing significant feats of endurance.
Even if you cannot enter a mini-pagoda, controlling one will earn you merit points over time.
• Week 1: Control generates merit points and increases rewards.
• Week 2: The system highlights the pagoda to all, increasing risks but multiplying rewards.
• Bonus: After two weeks of control, no further merit points are earned, but a substantial bonus is awarded.
Note: If an individual surrenders their merit points to you, and you choose to harm or kill them, all surrendered points will be forfeited. Conversely, killing those who do not surrender will grant you 100% of their merit points.
Silas exhaled sharply, the weight of the system's explanation settling on him. The rules were clear—brutal, but clear. His mind lingered on the implications of merit points tied to survival, control, and conflict. The highlight period sounded like a beacon for violence, practically guaranteeing fights over mini-pagodas.
He rubbed the back of his neck as the last note about "savage acts" appeared:
Note: Any savage acts committed against a surrendering party will result in the loss of all merit points.
Silas stared at the text, his jaw tightening. At least there were some rules to keep things from turning into absolute chaos.
Finally, as the screen faded, .Silas turned his gaze back to the monolith, his expression steady and resolute. He wasn't going to be one of the countless casualties of this so-called Crucible of Awakening. For two years, he had been paralyzed—useless, helpless, and trapped in his own body. He knew the taste of mediocrity and hated it. Now, faced with the chaos and danger of this new world, he couldn't help but smile faintly to himself. This was going to be real, brutally so, and death was a very real possibility. But even if he didn't make it, he wouldn't live out his days as ordinary or mediocre. He'd take his chances with the Crucible. It was better than the prison of his past.
Silas leaned back slightly and asked, "What is cultivation? Basic lesson, please."
The system chimed immediately in its usual efficient manner. 100 merit points deducted. Host has 800 merit points remaining.
Cultivation:
Cultivation is the process of refining oneself—spiritually, physically, and mentally—to unlock greater power and connection to the universe. It allows individuals to transcend the ordinary limits of their bodies and minds, accessing strength, speed, endurance, and understanding far beyond the mundane.
Cultivators generally follow one of two main paths: Spirit cultivation or Body cultivation. Some techniques combine aspects of both, but most delve deeply into one specific path. Spirit cultivators are often more in tune with what you might recognize as elemental forces—fire, water, wind, earth, lightning, and others that may defy your current comprehension. These elements are but a reflection of the Greater Dao.
The Dao is the fundamental truth of existence, the guiding principle of all that is. There are Greater Dao and Lesser Dao, each representing vast and infinite aspects of the universe. For example, there is the Dao of Fire, the Dao of Water, and even abstract Daos like the Dao of Life or Death.
Weapons themselves can also represent a Dao. Body cultivators often align with the Dao of a specific weapon—such as the Dao of the Sword, the Dao of the Hammer, or the Dao of the Spear—and enhance it with other supporting Dao. The Dao of a weapon is not merely the physical mastery of it but the embodiment of its essence, a profound connection between the cultivator and the weapon's purpose in the grand tapestry of existence.
Note: Do not attempt to define the Dao by earthly limits. It is infinite and vast. Let the Dao come to you rather than forcing your understanding upon it.
Spirit and body cultivation often overlap in their early stages, but as cultivators advance, the distinctions become more pronounced. Spirit cultivators focus on channeling energy, bending their connection to the Dao into feats that often defy physical reality. Body cultivators, on the other hand, specialize in amplifying their physical prowess, often wielding weapons with mastery that transcends mortal limits, their techniques empowered by their chosen Dao.
Silas stared at the floating words, processing the information. "Alright," he muttered under his breath. "So, magic elements and supercharged weapons. Got it. Sounds simple enough... except for the whole 'infinite Dao' part."
Silas crossed his arms, his eyes narrowing thoughtfully as he gazed at the glowing monolith. "Alright, system," he said, his voice steady, "give me an advanced analysis. What suits me better—body cultivation or spirit cultivation?"
Advanced analysis... first time discount...
Wow the system was giving a discount he thought...
200 points deducted, host has 600 remaining merit points.
Shit Silas thought... 200 was with a discount?
The system hummed faintly, and the air around him seemed to pulse with its unseen calculations.
Analyzing... came the first calm, measured reply.
Willpower... analyzing... Excellent. The word hung in the air, as though it carried weight.
Comprehension... analyzing... Unknown.
Scanning host body for talent... The pause stretched, and Silas raised an eyebrow, waiting for the verdict.
No innate bloodline detected. No spiritual root detected. No inherent natural talent detected.
Silas tilted his head, his brow furrowing. "Wow, thanks for the pep talk. Real ego boost there, system."
Unbothered, the system continued. Analyzing host circumstances... Crucible of the Awakening detected.
Silas straightened slightly at the words, his muscles tensing at the reminder of the chaotic world beyond the pagoda walls.
Recommendation: Body cultivation. The system's tone remained clinical, but there was an undeniable clarity to its suggestion. Body cultivation methods are most suited to the host's current environment, as they reinforce the physical form at a faster rate. Given the inherent dangers of the Crucible of the Awakening, physical durability will be essential for survival.
Silas frowned, rubbing his jaw. He mulled over the words while the system pressed on.
The host's willpower is uniquely suited to body cultivation. This method requires intense focus and determination, especially in the face of severe and sometimes debilitating pain.
The words made him pause. He could practically hear the years of nerve pain echoing in the back of his mind. That relentless torment, the kind that had robbed him of sleep, stripped him of dignity, and turned simple moments of existence into trials. Yet, here he was. Maybe the system wasn't wrong about that.
The system wasn't done. Additional analysis of the host's combat encounter outside the mini-pagoda reveals natural martial talent. The host demonstrates adaptability, quick thinking, and a willingness to take initiative under pressure. There was a brief pause before it added, Furthermore, the host exhibits no constraints from misplaced 'morals' often observed on worlds like this one. This makes the host capable of decisive action during life-threatening scenarios.
Silas read the analysis again, his lips twitching into a grin he couldn't quite suppress. "Body cultivation, huh?" he muttered. "Focus, willpower, pain—guess I've had a head start on all that."
He tapped the spade against his palm, thinking back to the accident. Two years of being trapped in a body that wouldn't move, helpless to do anything but endure. Now, his body was his again, and the system was offering him a way to push it further than he'd ever imagined.
A flicker of excitement coursed through him, unshakable and undeniable. Maybe it was his martial arts obsession resurfacing, or maybe it was just the thrill of finally being able to act. Either way, he couldn't deny it—this felt right. He adjusted his grip on the spade, his grin sharpening.
"Alright, system," he said, his voice steady. "Let's get started."