System Awakening

(Brain Storage)

Cold, bone-chilling cold, preceded consciousness, wrapping around him.

The smell of rust, a thick, unresolvable stench of blood, and the sour odor of decaying corpses mixed together, assaulting his nostrils and forcing him to open his eyes with a jolt.

Darkness. Not complete darkness, but faint light leaked through the gaps in the tattered canopy above, outlining the silhouettes of people lying sprawled about. Beneath him was a rough, hard wooden plank that creaked under the slightest movement as if it couldn't bear the load.

Where is this?

He looked around blankly, his memory stuck on the moment he'd collapsed onto his keyboard while working overtime until past midnight. The dim glow of the computer screen overlapped and then tore away from the hellish scene before him.

This isn't a dream.

A chill crawled up his spine, covering his entire body. He looked down and saw he was wearing a dirty, worn-out leather armor stained with dark brown splotches. His fingers felt a sticky residue when he touched it. A short, chipped saber hung at his waist, its hilt wrapped in hemp rope that had turned black from sweat and blood.

An unfamiliar body, an unfamiliar environment, and a deathly aura so thick it made him nauseous.

"Newbie, save your strength. Who knows if you'll even survive tomorrow," a hoarse voice rasped from a huddled figure nearby, carrying a tone of near-numb despair.

His throat was too dry to make a sound, and his heart pounded wildly in his chest. Just then, fragments of memories, completely alien to him, surged into his mind like a bursting dam—

The Great Yan Dynasty, a world of high martial arts, rife with war, where lives were as cheap as grass.

He, himself, was now an nameless grunt in the logistics battalion of the border army, also named Chen Qing, just sixteen years old, conscripted less than half a month ago. The war on the front lines was intensifying, and they, the auxiliary soldiers, were to be driven to the first defensive line tomorrow, to exhaust the enemy's arrows and strength.

Cannon fodder. Pure cannon fodder.

Despair coiled around his heart like a cold viper, threatening to suffocate him.

No!

At the peak of this extreme fear and unwillingness, a cold, emotionless mechanical voice abruptly sounded from the depths of his consciousness:

[Ding! Detected host's strong will to survive, Enemy Proficiency System activated!]

[Killing living beings will grant corresponding proficiency, allowing for the advancement of martial arts realms.]

Before his eyes, a faint blue, semi-transparent light screen silently unfurled, stark and almost cruel in its simplicity.

[Host: Chen Qing]

[Realm: None]

[Martial Arts: Black Tiger Fist (Novice, Proficiency: 22/100)]

[Martial Arts: Black Tiger Saber Technique (Novice, Proficiency: 13/100)]

A system? A cheat!

Ecstasy instantly dispelled the despair. He stared intently at the light screen, as if grasping at the only straw of salvation. The Black Tiger Fist and Black Tiger Saber Technique were the family arts of the original body's owner, rumored to have been passed down by an ancestor of some standing. But by his generation, only a few broken forms remained, barely enough for basic strengthening, let alone fighting on the battlefield.

But now, it was different!

He subconsciously recalled the movements of the Black Tiger Fist in his mind, simultaneously attempting to circulate his energy according to the breathing techniques from his memories. Even with just a few simple starting stances, his muscles felt an indescribable sense of coordination and a faint warmth.

[Black Tiger Fist Proficiency +1]

The number on the light screen flickered.

It works! It really works!

A terrifying light blazed in Chen Qing's eyes. He hesitated no longer, ignoring his body's fatigue and the harsh environment. Right there on the narrow, foul-smelling cot, he practiced the incomplete Black Tiger Fist from his memory, over and over, silently.

His movements were stiff, even a little comical, but with the system's help, every punch, every step, brought a small increase in proficiency. Sweat quickly soaked through his tattered clothes, his muscles began to ache, but he didn't stop.

[Black Tiger Fist Proficiency +1]

[Black Tiger Fist Proficiency +1]

As the hours passed in grueling and frantic practice, the sky gradually brightened.

Wooooo—!

A low, desolate horn blast shattered the dawn like a death knell.

"Get up! All of you, get up! The wolf cubs are coming! Quickly! To the front lines!" A fierce-looking Squad Leader, brandishing a whip, roared as he stormed into the barracks, indiscriminately lashing out at the groggy soldiers.

The crowd was herded out of the barracks like livestock. Chen Qing was swept along, gripping the worn saber at his waist, its cold touch keeping him somewhat lucid.

Outside, the sky was a hazy gray, and the air was filled with a deadly肅杀 atmosphere. Broken encampments, forests of spears, and in the distance, on the horizon, the muffled thunder of approaching cavalry.

He was shoved forward and positioned behind a row of crudely built wooden palisades. Beside him were countless faces, as young as his own, etched with fear and numbness. Ahead, dust billowed, and a writhing black line rapidly expanded.

It was the Northern Mang cavalry!

"Archers! Prepare—" the officer's hoarse shout trembled.

No one loosed an arrow. The auxiliary battalion didn't even have a few decent bows.

Rumble!

The black torrent slammed into the wooden palisades like a hot knife through butter. The fragile defense shattered instantly.

Chen Qing saw it.

A Northern Mang infantryman, clad in a dirty leather coat, with a face full of coarse flesh and eyes glinting with bloodthirsty ferocity, wielding a curved saber, howled and charged at him. The intense killing intent was almost tangible, churning his stomach.

Can't dodge! I'll die!

The shadow of death loomed, but the instinct for survival overwhelmed his fear at that moment.

"Roar!"

An irrepressible growl, both tender and fierce, erupted from Chen Qing's throat. Almost subconsciously, he unleashed the most direct move from the Black Tiger Fist he had practiced countless times the previous night—Black Tiger Steals the Heart!

Sidestep, step forward, twist the waist, punch!

His movements were still clumsy, but the coordinated force and the faint yet real warmth within his body made this punch incredibly fast and vicious!

Bang!

His fist landed squarely on the Northern Mang infantryman's chest.

Crack.

A clear bone-cracking sound.

The Northern Mang infantryman's forward momentum halted abruptly, his eyes bulging with disbelief. He opened his mouth, and scarlet blood foam gushed out. His body went limp and collapsed.

[Killed Northern Mang Infantryman, gained a small amount of Vitality, Black Tiger Fist Proficiency +15!]

A cold system notification rang out.

A faint but clear warmth appeared from nowhere within him, quickly spreading through his limbs. The fatigue from his frantic practice the night before was dispelled significantly, and the soreness in his arms lessened. His understanding of the Black Tiger Fist also seemed to deepen slightly.

So this is… killing to get stronger!

Chen Qing's heart pounded, not from fear, but from excitement!

He bent down and picked up the curved saber dropped by the Northern Mang infantryman. The blade had a graceful arc and was far better than his own broken short knife.

Just then, another Northern Mang soldier noticed the youth who had just killed his comrade and, with a sinister grin, swung his saber to attack.

The saber wind was sharp!

Chen Qing's eyes flashed. He no longer relied solely on his fists. He flipped his wrist, and the newly acquired curved saber, carrying a fierce momentum, slashed upward from below!

Black Tiger Saber Technique—Fierce Tiger Wags Its Tail!

Clang!

The two blades met, sending sparks flying.

Chen Qing's arm jolted, and he took half a step back, but his gaze grew fiercer. The Northern Mang soldier clearly hadn't expected such strength and reaction from the scrawny youth and paused in surprise.

This was the moment!

Chen Qing lunged forward like a predatory tiger, his curved saber flashing a cold light, slashing directly at the enemy's neck!

[Killed Northern Mang Infantryman, gained a small amount of Vitality, Black Tiger Saber Technique Proficiency +12!]

Another surge of warmth flowed into him.

Kill! Kill! Kill!

Chen Qing's eyes turned completely red. He no longer waited passively but actively sought targets. Alternating between the Black Tiger Fist and the Black Tiger Saber Technique, he was like a hungry tiger that had stumbled into a flock of sheep. Relying on the precise force application provided by the system and the recovery of stamina and increased proficiency after each kill, he struggled to survive on the chaotic battlefield.

He specifically targeted lone or already injured Northern Mang soldiers. His movements became more practiced, his punches harder, and his saber strikes more cunning.

[Black Tiger Fist Proficiency +8]

[Black Tiger Saber Technique Proficiency +10]

[Black Tiger Fist Proficiency +11]

Proficiency soared, and the warmth within him accumulated, making him feel warm all over, his strength steadily increasing.

He didn't know how long he had been fighting. When he once again pulled his curved saber from between a Northern Mang soldier's ribs, drawing out a spray of warm blood, the notification in his mind suddenly changed:

[Black Tiger Fist Proficiency has reached 100/100, Realm Advancement: Initial Glimpse (1/500)!]

Boom!

It was as if thunder exploded in his mind.

The Black Tiger Fist moves, which had previously been mere imitations, instantly became incredibly clear and profound. How each muscle should move, how breath should coordinate, how force should be transmitted—all sorts of realizations flooded his mind. He even felt as if his fists had become a bit harder.

Initial Glimpse!

Almost simultaneously, due to the breakthrough in his fist technique, his understanding of the saber technique was also enhanced.

[Black Tiger Saber Technique Proficiency +20!]

[Black Tiger Saber Technique Proficiency has reached 100/100, Realm Advancement: Initial Glimpse (1/500)!]

The intricacies of the saber technique also became suddenly clear!

Chen Qing couldn't help but let out a long roar, expelling all the pent-up frustration in his chest! He waved his curved saber, forcing back a Northern Mang soldier who had attempted a sneak attack. His movements were now more than a notch faster than before!

The surrounding Northern Mang soldiers seemed to sense that this blood-soaked youth was not to be trifled with, and for a moment, they hesitated to advance.

Woo—!

Just then, the order horn signaling the Northern Mang retreat sounded from afar.

The enemies that had swarmed in like a tide began to recede like a tide.

On the battlefield, only broken banners, scattered weapons, and layers upon layers of corpses remained.

I survived...

Chen Qing leaned on his dulled saber, gasping for breath, his entire body trembling slightly. It wasn't fear, but exhaustion, and the weakness that followed extreme excitement.

Sunlight pierced the clouds, illuminating his face, smeared with blood and sweat. His eyes, however, shone with a terrifying intensity.

He looked at the blue screen that only he could see before him.

[Host: Chen Qing]
[Realm: Skin Refining Realm (Initial)]
[Martial Art: Black Tiger Fist (Initial Glimpse, Proficiency: 1/500)]
[Martial Art: Black Tiger Saber Technique (Initial Glimpse, Proficiency: 1/500)]

Skin Refining Realm!

This was the first threshold in martial arts cultivation in this high-level martial world! It meant toughened skin and membranes, and greatly increased strength, far surpassing ordinary people!

From a disposable pawn who could die at any moment to stepping into the ranks of true warriors, it had only taken one battle!

The system's power made his heart surge with emotion.

"What's your name?" a deep voice sounded beside him.

Chen Qing looked up and saw a military officer wearing damaged armor, with a ferocious scar across his face, looking at him sharply. This officer was the squad leader responsible for their area, surnamed Zhang, and was usually quite fierce.

Chen Qing's heart tightened. He suppressed the sharp glint in his eyes, lowered his eyelids, and said hoarsely, "Reporting to the squad leader, I am Chen Qing."

Squad Leader Zhang sized him up, his gaze lingering for a moment on the Northern Mang saber in his hand, which was clearly looted. He then swept his eyes over the two or three Northern Mang soldiers lying dead at his feet.

"Hmm, not bad. You've got a bit of your old Chen family's spirit." Squad Leader Zhang's tone was unreadable. "If you're alive, hurry up and tidy yourself up. There are still tough battles ahead."

With that, he turned and walked away, continuing to take stock of the casualties.

Chen Qing watched Squad Leader Zhang's retreating back and slowly straightened up.

The sunlight cast his shadow long across the mountain of corpses and sea of blood.

He gently stroked the saber at his waist, which had drunk its fill of blood. The cold blade reflected his young, yet already battle-hardened, brow and eyes.

In this chaotic, high-martial world, human lives were cheap.

But he had the system, this saber, and these fists.

His path had only just begun.

Where in this world could he not go?