The Verdant Cloud Sect's outer disciple quarters buzzed with the clatter of wooden swords and shouts of instructors. Morning sunlight filtered through bamboo groves, casting dappled shadows over the mossy stone courtyard. Luo Feng ignored the noise, his calloused hands gripping a chipped bucket as he hauled water from the well. His threadbare emerald robes hung loosely on his gaunt frame, the hem frayed from years of wear. Three years had passed since his father, a minor sect elder, vanished into the Northern Wastes. Three years of stagnation.
"Luo Feng! Move your feet!" barked Elder Zhu, a squat man with a face like crumpled parchment. His jade medallion—a symbol of his inner elder status—glinted in the sunlight as he pointed a stubby finger. "The kitchens need that water before noon, or you'll scrub the latrines for a month!"
Luo Feng nodded silently, adjusting his grip on the rope handles. He'd learned long ago that words wasted energy. As he trudged past the training yard, the scent of sweat and iron filled the air. Disciples sparred in pairs, their movements clumsy but enthusiastic. A few glanced his way, smirking.
"Look who it is—the eternal outer disciple!"
Zhang Wei, a hulking inner disciple with a crooked nose and arms thick as tree trunks, stepped into his path. His cronies—two lanky boys with matching sneers—snickered behind him. "Still stuck at Qi Condensation Layer 3? Even the pigs in the stables have broken through by now."
Luo Feng kept his eyes lowered. "Let me pass."
Zhang Wei's foot lashed out, kicking the bucket. Water sloshed over the edge, soaking Luo Feng's legs and pooling on the dusty ground. "Oops. Clumsy me."
Laughter rippled through the crowd. Luo Feng knelt to refill the bucket, his jaw tight. Pride was a luxury he couldn't afford.
That night, in his crumbling hut, Luo Feng lit a single candle. The flame flickered weakly, casting long shadows on the rusted sword hanging above his cot—the only relic of his father. He traced the blade's chips and cracks, memories surfacing like ghosts.
"Feng'er, promise me you'll endure," his father had said the day he left, his hand heavy on Luo Feng's shoulder. "The Northern Wastes hold answers about your mother. Stay here, and I'll return with the truth."
But he never did.
A bitter smile tugged at Luo Feng's lips. Endure. Right.
A soft chime echoed in his mind, sweet and clear as a temple bell. Golden text flickered behind his eyelids, glowing like molten sunlight:
Divine Ascension System Activated.
Host: Luo Feng.
Cultivation: Qi Condensation Layer 3.
Ascension Points: +1 per hour.
Luo Feng froze. What…?
The text pulsed warmly, like a second heartbeat nestled in his chest. He blinked, but the words remained, hovering in his vision like smoke.
Points accumulate automatically. Higher cultivation equals faster accumulation. Spend points to upgrade body, cultivation, or skills.
He pinched his arm hard enough to bruise. The text didn't vanish.
Not a dream.
For the first time in years, hope flickered in his chest, fragile as a candle flame in a storm.
The next morning, Luo Feng volunteered for the most tedious chores. While other disciples trained, he scrubbed the alchemy hall floors until his knees ached, polished ceremonial swords until his reflection gleamed in their blades, and hauled sacks of rice to the granary until his shoulders screamed. Disciples mocked him, but he ignored them, focusing on the steady tick of points in his mind.
Ascension Points: 12.
By dusk, he'd saved enough.
Upgrade Cultivation to Layer 4? Cost: 10 points.
Yes.
Heat exploded in his dantian, scorching his meridians like wildfire. His veins burned as if filled with molten iron. Gritting his teeth, he collapsed onto his cot, sweat drenching his robes. The pain was excruciating—a thousand needles piercing his flesh—but he bit back a scream. When the fire finally receded, his senses sharpened. He could hear the skitter of rats in the walls, smell the damp earth beneath the hut, and see the faint shimmer of moonlight filtering through cracks in the roof.
Cultivation: Qi Condensation Layer 4.
Ascension Points: +2 per hour.
A grin spread across his face, wild and disbelieving. This changes everything.
Days blurred into routine. Luo Feng hoarded points like a miser, avoiding attention. But when Zhang Wei cornered him near the herb garden, his patience frayed.
"Still playing servant?" Zhang Wei sneered, blocking the narrow path. His cronies flanked him like hungry wolves. "Why don't you kneel and polish my boots? Maybe I'll toss you a Spirit Stone."
Luo Feng clenched his fists. 16 points glowed in his mind, a tempting beacon.
Upgrade Body? Cost: 15 points.
Yes.
Muscles writhed beneath his skin, hardening like forged steel. Zhang Wei threw a punch, his fist whistling through the air. Luo Feng caught his wrist, squeezing until bones creaked.
"Let go!" Zhang Wei yelped, face twisting in pain.
Luo Feng released him. "Don't touch me again."
The cronies gaped. Zhang Wei cradled his wrist, face purpling with rage. "You'll pay for that, trash!"
Luo Feng walked away, ignoring the threats. Let them talk. He had bigger plans.
A week later, disaster struck.
Luo Feng knelt in the sect's Spirit Herb Garden, pruning frostbloom lilies under Elder Mei's watchful glare. The elderly woman's silver hair was coiled into a severe bun, her jade-green robes immaculate.
"Careful with those," she snapped, pointing a bony finger at the delicate blue flowers. "One mistake, and you'll repay their value with your bones."
Luo Feng nodded, his hands steady. The garden was a labyrinth of vibrant greens and shimmering petals, the air thick with the scent of medicinal herbs. Su Ling, the sect's youngest alchemy apprentice, hummed softly nearby as she watered a patch of sunfire roots. Her lavender robes fluttered in the breeze, and her black hair was tied with a ribbon the color of dawn.
"Brother Luo," she said, glancing over with a smile. "Did you know frostbloom lilies can cure fever if ground into paste?"
He shook his head. "No."
"I'll teach you sometime," she offered, her eyes crescent moons.
Before he could reply, a guttural roar shook the air.
The bamboo fence splintered. A Shadowfang Boar—a hulking demonic beast with tusks like daggers and eyes burning crimson—burst into the garden. Disciples screamed, scattering like leaves in a storm.
"Protect the herbs!" Elder Mei shouted, her voice trembling.
The boar charged straight at Su Ling, who stood frozen, her watering can clattering to the ground.
Move!
Upgrade Reflexes? Cost: 20 points.
Yes.
Time slowed. Luo Feng lunged, tackling Su Ling as the boar's tusks gouged the earth where she'd stood. They tumbled into a patch of moonlit orchids, petals scattering like snow.
"Run!" he barked, shoving her toward Elder Mei.
The boar turned, its blood-red eyes locking onto him. Saliva dripped from its jagged teeth as it pawed the ground, preparing to charge.
Basic Combat Technique Purchased: -15 points.
Knowledge flooded his mind—footwork, strikes, feints—as if he'd trained for years. He sidestepped the boar's charge, driving a palm into its ribs.
Crack.
The beast howled, stumbling into a stone planter. Soil and herbs sprayed into the air.
Ascension Points: +50 for defending the sect.
The boar staggered, then fled into the forest, its ragged breaths fading into the distance.
Elder Mei stared at Luo Feng, her lips pressed into a thin line. "How did you…?"
"Luck," he said, wiping blood from his split lip.
Su Ling stepped forward, her lavender robes singed and dirt-streaked. "Thank you, Brother Luo."
Relationship with Su Ling: Friendly.
As the crowd dispersed, whispering furiously, Luo Feng spotted a flicker of movement in the trees—a girl with fox ears and nine silken tails, watching him with a sly smile. Her crimson eyes gleamed like polished rubies.
"Interesting human," she purred, vanishing into the shadows.