Download Chereads APP
Chereads App StoreGoogle Play
Chereads

Martial Arts System

The War of Curse Art

In a world where negative human emotions — fear, grief, rage — give birth to living curses, the boundary between man and monster is no longer clear. These twisted beings lurk in the corners of hospitals, schools, and alleys, unseen by most… yet deadly to all. At the heart of it all is a boy bound to something no one should ever carry — a cursed soul born from love and tragedy. Marked as a danger to society, he is dragged into the hidden world of curse warfare: a shadow conflict waged by modern-day sorcerers trained to exorcise the horrors spawned from human suffering. But this war runs deeper than exorcisms and rituals. Across the nation, a new generation of fighters rises — each carrying wounds from a past that refuses to stay buried. As tensions escalate, an underground rebellion stirs: a movement that rejects the old laws, seeking to tear down the fragile balance between sorcerers and curses… and rebuild something terrifying in its place. As city streets become battlegrounds and long-forgotten secrets resurface, those who wield cursed techniques are forced to question the very powers they were taught to master. Ideals will clash. Friendships will fracture. And in a world where every spell comes at a cost, survival means more than just winning — it means enduring the weight of what must be sacrificed. Because in the end, the greatest threat may not be the curses that haunt the dark. It may be what humanity becomes… when it believes it’s already lost.
Sam_Shenon · 902 Views

Martial Union

The drums of war thundered across the plains of the Wan Shui Empire. At the forefront stood a lone figure draped in silver armor, his crimson cloak dancing with the wind. His gaze, sharp as a dragon’s claw, swept across the battlefield. His name was Huan Bai — the War Demon, the youngest divine general in the empire’s history. At fifteen, he had silenced rebel cities. At twenty-two, he led men against beasts that tore mountains apart. At twenty-seven, he ascended to the rank of Divine General, one of only three in the entire empire. His name was etched in legends, sung by poets and feared by kings. But even war gods have hearts. In a rare moment of peace, the general crossed paths with Wu Hua, the flower of the Xiantian Sect. Graceful, serene, and unshaken even by his terrifying presence. Love, unexpected and fierce, bloomed like wildfire. They married in the spring, where cherry blossoms rained like snow. On his thirty-second birthday, the war demon smiled brighter than ever before. His son, Li Bai, was born under a sky filled with stars, as if the heavens themselves bowed in blessing. But fate, as always, was cruel. In the same year, during a border negotiation with the Tiansha Empire, General Huan Bai was betrayed and captured. His soldiers returned without him. His armor, broken. His spear, snapped. His fate — unknown. And as if destiny wasn’t yet done, Wu Hua vanished days later. No body, no trace. Only silence. The empire grieved its war god. But not all shared in the sorrow. Young Li Bai, now the son of a "fallen hero" and a "runaway woman," grew under the weight of whispers and cruel laughter. “A cursed child,” they called him. “The disgrace of a vanished bloodline.” But in the stillness of rejection, something stirred. On the eve of his seventh birthday, when the cold moon was high and dreams were thin, Li Bai sat alone in the courtyard of the orphaned manor. No one celebrated. No one remembered. And then — boom. A sudden pulse. The earth trembled. The stars above flickered strangely, as if acknowledging a forgotten truth. From within Li Bai’s core, a spiraling path of light and darkness emerged. It did not follow the known elements. It was not fire, not wind, not sword, not beast. It was something much more mysterious..... Unseen by all, the world had changed. The spirit child had awakened.
Ozoth · 3.6K Views

The Age of Martial Enlightenment.

In the beginning, mankind was weak. Prey to beasts, to plague, to the winds and whims of the heavens. Kingdoms rose and fell like sandcastles at the edge of a storm-tossed sea. Swords rusted. Kings bled. No one was beyond death. But then came the Nine Pillars. Forged in the twilight of the ancient world by nameless sages who pierced the secrets of heaven and earth, the Pillars were not structures of stone, but of spirit, flesh, and will. They were paths—painful, ruthless, divine paths—by which a mortal might climb beyond the chains of his body and seize dominion over it. The First Pillar, Strength Refinement, marked the beginning of the path. For ten years, a cultivator would temper their raw might until their muscles became as iron and their blows could break boulders. From there, the path only grew steeper. Flesh Refinement hardened skin into armor. Muscle Refinement made each sinew a coiled spring of destruction. Tendon Refinement—the Fourth Pillar—turned movement into mastery, footstep into flight, swordplay into something near divine. And beyond that? Bone, Organ, Marrow, Blood, and finally, Meridian Refinement—the ninth and last Pillar—was said to bestow eternal life, peerless power, and the ability to shatter mountains with a breath. At its peak stood the Martial Emperors, titans in human form. Yet such beings were as rare as phoenixes. Each Pillar demanded a toll of decades—forty years for the Fourth, ninety for the Ninth—but time given was returned a hundredfold. A cultivator aged slower, lived longer, endured more. But few ever had the resolve—or the years—to climb far. This was the Age of Martial Enlightenment, where kingdoms no longer measured greatness by armies or coin, but by the strength of their cultivators. Martial sects rivaled noble houses. Swordsmen wandered the land like demigods. The strong dictated truth, and the weak obeyed.
AshuraDaoLord · 6.9K Views
Related Topics
More