In his final moments before death, Han Feng had witnessed a cosmic spectacle. The heavens had roared with unearthly fury as bolts of divine lightning split the skies, etching scars of brilliance across the firmament. In that transcendent instant, his soul had been scattered like stardust on a cold, indifferent wind—a moment when it seemed that everything was lost.
He had believed that his journey had ended. Yet, fate, ever capricious, had other plans.
Now, in the darkness of his new prison, the cold clinking of chains echoed around him as Kharth—once Han Feng—clenched his fists. The metallic clatter resounded like the drumbeat of impending revolution. Amid this dissonant symphony, memories not his own surged forth. He recalled the life of Kharth, a fierce orc warrior from the storied Bloodfang Tribe. In vivid flashes, he saw battles fought beneath blood-red skies, the clashing of crude weapons, and the guttural roars of warriors locked in a savage dance of survival. There were memories of honor, of a family whose faces were blurred by the mists of time, now lost to the treachery of those he once trusted. Betrayed and ambushed by his own kin, he had been brutally overpowered and sold to human slavers. Shackled and beaten, he was dragged to the grand coliseum—a place where orcish valor was twisted into a spectacle of brutal entertainment.
Then, as if summoned by his inner resolve, a new prompt shimmered before him—a vivid blue window that disrupted the darkness with its ethereal glow.
[Passive Skill System Activated!]
Again, the system's message resonated:
[First Passive Skill Acquired: Clear Mind and Adaptable Body – Grants unwavering focus, resistance to mental attacks, and an enhanced ability to adapt to new physical and environmental conditions.]
At that precise moment, a surge of raw energy coursed through his veins. The Adaptable Body skill took hold. The searing pain of his battered form began to dissipate, fading like a nightmare upon waking. His bruises dimmed to mere whispers of color, and his once-languid limbs now moved with startling agility. Every heartbeat pulsed with the promise of renewal, each movement marked by the subtle recalibration of his very essence. It was as if the core of his being was being reforged—melding the ancient wisdom of cultivation with the untamed power of his orcish form.
Kharth felt, with every fiber of his being, the dormant strength of his true self awakening. Each cell vibrated in response to the ambient energies of this strange, magical world. Though the natural forces here lacked the deep, meditative resonance of the Dao, they possessed a wild, ferocious quality that mirrored his inner instincts. Here lay a raw energy—untamed and volatile—that he would learn to harness and refine. The art of cultivation, he realized, was not confined to spiritual Qi alone; it could be reborn through the alchemy of body and nature.
Exhaling slowly into the chill, musty air of his prison, Kharth allowed himself a brief moment of introspection. The world around him was harsh, its laws dictated by power and primal survival. But within him burned an unyielding determination—to reclaim not only the glory of his former self as Han Feng but to forge a new legend as the Cultivator Orc. With a warrior's resolve and a cultivator's insight, he vowed to shatter the chains of oppression, defy the prejudices of this primitive realm, and transform its very understanding of strength.
In that fusion of past and present, where the refined art of cultivation met the raw, unbridled might of an orc, a new power was born. And as the golden glow of the Passive Skill System pulsed in harmony with his heartbeat, Kharth stepped forward into the unknown—ready to rewrite destiny and etch his name into the annals of legend