World Explorer’s Academy, Earth.
Lucian walked idly while savouring his favourite pistachio flavoured ice cream.
’Just three more months,’ he thought.
Leaving home had been difficult, but remembering the Director’s promise, his bitter expression softened.
It had been nearly two years since he arrived in what used to be Mongolia.
During the Second World War, the First Great Rift appeared and laid the region to waste. The Allied and Axis Powers formed a joint battalion to overpower the creatures that emerged, nearly succeeding until an even greater calamity followed.
Over time, things stabilized thanks to Explorers who awakened abilities. Still, twenty percent of humanity perished in the conflicts, and three more Great Rifts eventually opened.
Lucian looked around.
Even late at night, students lingered across the grounds. It remained one of the most fortified institutions on Earth.
He was currently serving a two-year probation period here.
A former A-rank Explorer—the director of Oak Orphanage—had sponsored him under his required quota. Anyone ranked B-rank or higher had to recommend someone, given that the awakened made up only five percent of humanity.
Though the official pretext was nurturing talent, the Director did it for the hefty payout and a guaranteed post.
Lucian knew he was being used as a scapegoat so the Director could shield his biological son, but he didn’t mind.
The man kept the orphans sheltered and well fed, which was enough.
As the eldest at Oak Orphanage, Lucian also sensed the Director acted partly out of guilt. Cold as the man was, wanting to protect his own blood was only natural.
Lucian doubted he would ever awaken, though a sliver of hope remained.
He was nineteen, and most awakenings occurred between fifteen and twenty. He was past the ideal age, but he wouldn’t mind being a late bloomer.
’Money, power, status—who could turn them down?’ They were the foundation of being an explorer. The catch was risking your life.
Reaching his dorm room, he collapsed onto the bed with a huff.
"Tomorrow is field training..." he sighed.
Academy drills carried little real danger since instructors were always present.
’Let me just dream about the future after enduring this present,’ Lucian thought, drifting off to sleep.
What he didn’t expect was waking up in total darkness.
« Congratulations, You Have Awakened. »
Lucian’s mind went blank before his senses snapped back.
’Is this an astral body?’
His limbs felt completely real. Seeing the system prompt, a wide grin broke across his face.
"I didn’t even wish desperately today!"
He threw a punch into the empty air in sheer excitement.
Who could have predicted an awakening like this?
Then his expression soured slightly, realizing he might now have to work for the Academy for free just to gain experience.
Suddenly, the darkness deepened as foreign knowledge flooded his mind. With each passing second, his shock grew.
’Are you serious?!’
Instinctively, his mind jumped to the martial arts movies trending lately—warriors splitting mountains with a single blow and lightning-fast sword fights.
Silver symbols suddenly materialized in the air, rearranging themselves into a circular mirror.
Reflected in the glass was a breathtaking panorama of verdant peaks, sprawling rivers, and various weapons.
« Anchor Established. »
« Martial Arts World – Murim »
’Is Murim genuine?’ Lucian wondered.
Though he was not very knowledgeable, Lucian knew Murim was largely a trope popularized by stories and fights based in ancient China.
His awakening provided a unique gift; the power to traverse other worlds while ensuring his physical form stayed completely safe, even if he met his end within.
’Whether this manifestation is a clone, a projection, or a simulation, my actual body is secure,’ he reassured himself.
Surging with excitement, Lucian extended a hand to press against the mirror’s surface, allowing the glass to envelop him entirely.
***
Lucian slammed into the floor with a heavy impact, his palms sliding painfully across the smooth marble.
The air he inhaled felt thin and sharp, smelling of pine and damp soil, giving him a refreshing feeling.
Forcing himself upright, he quickly scanned his body, a habit ingrained through countless Academy drills.
He was unharmed, but his attire had been replaced.
Gone were his regular clothes; in their place, he wore stark white robes made of coarse, lightweight fabric, held by a woven belt. The sleeves were wide and airy, fitting him with uncanny precision.
’Did my body change when I entered?’ he wondered, dusting off his new clothes.
’Or is this just a world-specific thing?’
Standing up, Lucian surveyed the landscape.
Jagged mountain peaks rose through layers of mist, bordering an immense complex with ornate roofs and pagodas carved directly into the stone cliffs.
Despite the grandeur of the architecture, the silence was overwhelming.
There were no bells ringing, no sounds of maintenance, and none of the heavy breathing typical of martial artists training at dawn.
’Something is wrong,’ Lucian noted, feeling his heart rate accelerate.
He navigated the stone courtyard with cautious steps. In the distance, beyond the lower terraces, a thick plume of black smoke ascended toward the sky.
Lucian moved to the edge of the stone railing, peering down the mountainside.
"Damn..." He felt horror looking at the scene in front of him.
A massive city stood beneath, but half of it was consumed by fire. Even from this height, the destruction was horrific. Tiny figures fled the streets like panicked insects.
Near the gates, a group of warriors in white robes fought a desperate battle. They stood in formation, protecting crowds of children and the injured who were trying to escape.
Their opponents were nightmare figures dressed in blood-red.
It wasn’t a fight; it was a massacre.
Scarlet waves of energy cut through buildings and people alike. Through the smoke, Lucian saw a red-robed attacker drive a hand into an old man’s chest, pulling out a beating heart and consuming it while drawing in trails of blood from the air.
"Ugh!" Lucian winced, his stomach turning.
He had seen gore at the Academy, but watching people being methodically hunted and drained of life affected him on a deeper level.
’Should I go down?’ He quickly dismissed the thought.
’What could I possibly do? I’d just be another casualty.’
Thousands were caught in that slaughter. Flashes of light lit up the valley like thunder, and shockwaves vibrated the ground under his feet.
Moving there was literally courting death.
He retreated from the ledge and ducked into the temple corridors.
The emptiness of the mountain meant everyone had either gone down to fight or fled in a hurry.
For several minutes, he ran through the quiet halls. No violence had reached this area yet. Incense had recently burned out, and tea sat cold on the tables, untouched.
’They left only hours ago,’ Lucian estimated.
He found a wooden pavilion sheltered by the cliffside. Above its doors was a sign with four complex, ancient symbols.
Though the language was unknown, he understood it immediately: Great Scripture Pavilion.
’My ability is translating for me,’ he realized, opening the doors.
The interior was filled with empty shelves.
Scrolls and cases were scattered across the floor in the chaos of evacuation. Lucian rummaged through the lower sections, finding a few volumes that had been overlooked.
Wudang Basic Sword Technique.
Cloud Flowing Fist.
Clearing Mind Method.
"Wudang?" Lucian whispered, touching the paper.
He didn’t waste time. He rolled up the manuals and hid them in his robes. Information was valuable, especially from such a famous sect.
He stepped outside to find a way out, but the sky had turned a dark, sickly color.
A massive, red energy dome now covered the mountain range, trapping everything inside like a bowl of blood.
’A barrier?’ Lucian felt an unknown fear looking at that.
Below, the fight was ending. The defenders were gone; killed without mercy.
Red-robed figures were now moving up the mountain paths like predators on a scent.
Then, miles away on a distant tower, a single person stopped.
An old man with wild red hair stood out. He looked across the distance and made eye contact with Lucian.
The stare felt like a physical blow.
The old man stepped into the air, walking on nothing, his form blurring as he moved toward the summit at incredible speed.
’Shit!’
Lucian didn’t hesitate; he ran.
Distance meant nothing to someone who could fly through the sky.
He sprinted toward the largest building nearby—the Sect Leader’s residence.
He searched for a hiding spot but found only a large, iron-bound chest meant for swords. He threw himself inside and locked the lid.
BOOM!
The entire structure shook.
’He’s already here,’ Lucian’s heart raced.
BOOM! CRACK!
The walls were blown apart by a massive force. Wood and stone flew through the air as the doors were reduced to splinters.
A dry, rasping laugh filled the room.
"Hehehe... Wudang left a child to watch their ancestral home?"
Suddenly, an invisible force crushed the chest, shattering the thick wood into pieces.
Lucian was lifted into the air by his collar, suspended among hovering swords.
He couldn’t even move or breathe.
The old man stood below, his eyes glowing with red light.
He ignored Lucian, using a crimson blade to slash at the back wall.
The wall crumbled, revealing a metal vault door that barely showed a mark from the attack.
"Black Cold Iron," the man said, his voice sounding eerie.
"These Daoists have good taste."
Whatever force was holding Lucian dropped him onto the floor.
The elder glanced at him, noting his look and strange features.
"Be honored," the man whispered, returning to the vault.
"When I finish my work, the world will be reborn in red. You are just the first sacrifice."
He unleashed a surge of blood-qi that melted through the iron, tearing the door off. He stepped inside and came out with pill bottles and a silk manual.
Lucian saw the title: Dual Internal Energy Art.
"Greedy fools," the man sneered. After reading the book once, he burned it to ash with a flick of his fingers.
Then, the man’s aura changed.
The thick, demonic bloody aura evaporated in seconds, replaced by the tranquil, harmless presence of an ordinary neighborhood elder.
The man smiled to himself in quiet satisfaction.
"The world will turn chaotic after the fall of Mount Wudang, which is considered a pillar of orthodox Murim, but people will also celebrate the second coming of this Blood God..." the man muttered with distant, emotionless eyes.
Stepping forward, he smiled eerily as his palm clamped down over Lucian’s skull.
An overwhelming, agonizing sensation detonated through Lucian’s senses.
Paralyzed by pure pain, he couldn’t even manage a scream as his blood and life force were drained straight out of his body.
Across from him, the old man looked like he was savoring an exquisite delicacy.
"Blood shall rule the world once again."
Those were the final words Lucian heard before his vision turned black and his consciousness fell into oblivion.
« You Have Died. »
« Please Select Your Harvest. »