Transmigrating into a High-Martial World, a Dim Future

Great Xia, Linjiang District.

Linjiang No. 3 High School, Grade 12, Class 5.

Morning.

The morning sun spilled in, illuminating the youthful, vibrant faces in the classroom.

On the podium, the homeroom teacher and history instructor, Chen Guo'an, had already activated the holographic projector. The pale blue light screen displayed today's topic: Astral Rift and the Origins of the Martial Era.

"Students, today is the eighteenth topic of our college entrance exam review."

Teacher Chen adjusted his glasses, his voice calm and clear. "Five hundred years ago, in the year 2005, the first Astral Rift appeared in the Americas." As he spoke, the projection behind him switched—in the ancient footage, a black fissure stretching across the ground slowly tore open, and countless hideous beasts surged out from within.

"With the arrival of the beasts, human civilization lost a quarter of its population in just two years."

Teacher Chen tapped the screen, highlighting several key timestamps. "Conventional weapons were effective at first, but as the rifts continued to spew out more powerful entities—especially the Tier 2 and Tier 3 beasts capable of resisting or even absorbing energy attacks—human civilization teetered on the brink of extinction."

Lin Ye rested his chin on his hand, his gaze unfocused. He had been hearing this content for eighteen years.

Since he could remember, his kindergarten bedtime stories were Chronicles of Martial Heroes, the first lesson in his primary school textbook was Grace of the Star Alliance, and every semester in middle school, he was required to visit the Dungeon Defense Line Memorial Hall.

This made him feel a sense of absurdity, yet at the same time, a sense of reality.

At the very least, as a transmigrator, it was hard to imagine that such a world could exist in the universe.

That's right, he was a transmigrator. Eighteen years ago, he traveled from Blue Star to this place, a soul from another world inhabiting the body of an infant.

However, the development of events did not always go as he wished. The moment he learned that martial arts existed in this world, he was shocked, then ecstatic, then frustrated, and by now, it had turned into numbness.

"At the critical moment, Star Alliance martial artists arrived alongside the second wave of Astral Rifts."

Teacher Chen's voice pulled Lin Ye's thoughts back. "They claimed to come from the Bathing Sun Nebula. While helping us establish a defense line, they also taught us the martial arts cultivation system, ushering in the Martial Era of Blue Star."

The emblem of the Star Alliance appeared on the projection: countless star rings orbiting a long sword.

"According to them, the Star Alliance is a coalition of seven major human galaxies, founded on the principles of 'non-aggression, mutual assistance, and joint defense against foreign threats.' The Bathing Sun Nebula is a region under the Red Flame Galaxy, and Earth is the 9th intelligent civilization they discovered on the edge of this nebula."

"Take note here," Chen Guo'an tapped the blackboard. "Here is the key point: the nature of the Star Alliance, the background of the arrival of the Bathing Sun Nebula martial artists, and the significance of teaching martial arts to start a new era—these are all must-know exam topics."

Lin Ye mechanically recorded the keywords in his notebook: Astral Rift 2005, Star Alliance Envoys 2007, Year 1 of the Martial Era 2007, establishment of the Dungeon Defense Line 2008... His handwriting was neat, but his mind was elsewhere.

These historical events were grand and distant, as far away as a war documentary from another world. To him, these grand narratives were not as real as the soreness in his knees during the afternoon martial arts class.

Afternoon, Martial Arts Hall.

The dedicated martial arts room for Grade 12, Class 5.

The stuffy air was thick with the scent of sweat and rubber mats. More than fifty students, dressed in uniform gray training suits, stood in the "Primordial Stance." They were required to keep their bodies as straight as pines, breathe deeply and steadily, and sense the faint flow of qi and blood within their bodies.

At the very front stood a middle-aged man with a dark complexion and lean, powerful muscles. This was their martial arts teacher, Zheng Huai. It was said that he was once a member of an Astral Rift hunting squad; a hideous claw mark on his arm was particularly eye-catching.

"Same old rules, one hour of Primordial Stance."

Teacher Zheng's voice was resonant, echoing throughout the hall. "I know many of you find standing in a stance boring and want to rush into practicing fist techniques, leg techniques, or weapons. Let me tell you, stance training is the root of martial arts! If the root isn't firm, any fancy moves are just a waste of effort!"

Lin Ye walked to his spot and stood firm, feet shoulder-width apart, knees slightly bent, hands held loosely in front of his dantian.

Basic stance training—he had learned it three years ago upon enrollment, practicing it every day and testing it every month.

He closed his eyes, adjusted his breathing, and felt the subtle balance of his center of gravity.

Three minutes later, his calves began to ache.

Seven minutes later, his thigh muscles trembled slightly.

Ten minutes later, sweat seeped from his temples.

"Relax your waist! Why are you tensing up so much?"

Teacher Zheng's reprimand came from not far away, directed at a student in the class.

"I've said it so many times, stance training isn't a horse stance. You need to be relaxed but not slack, tight but not stiff." Lin Ye took a deep breath and readjusted his posture. He knew this was his own problem as well: his waist and hips weren't connected smoothly, and his center of gravity would sway slightly during micro-adjustments.

This caused him to waste thirty percent more energy just to maintain balance, leading to low efficiency.

"Lin Ye."

Zheng Huai's voice suddenly sounded in his ear. Lin Ye opened his eyes to find that Teacher Zheng had arrived in front of him at some point.

"Your problem is in your ankles."

Zheng Huai crouched down and tapped Lin Ye's right ankle with his finger. "You're too stiff. When standing in a stance, your soles should grip the ground like tree roots, but don't use brute force to dig in. You need to learn to feel the ground's reaction force and adjust the angle of your ankles along with that force."

He demonstrated a subtle rotation of the ankle. "See? Like this. Only then can the qi and blood flow upward smoothly from your feet to form a cycle. If you stand stiffly like that, the qi and blood get blocked at your ankles. No matter how long you practice, you'll get half the results for double the effort."

Hearing this, Lin Ye tried to imitate him.

The first time, he lost his balance and nearly fell.

The second time, he found a bit of the feeling.

"Take your time to grasp it."

Zheng Huai patted his shoulder. "Your fist technique forms are decent, but your foundation is too weak. Once your stance training improves, the power of your fist techniques will increase by at least thirty percent."

With that, he walked toward the next student.

Lin Ye continued to stand in the stance, repeatedly adjusting the subtle angles of his ankles according to the teacher's guidance.

Five minutes later, he felt a slight difference; the soreness and congestion originally blocked in his lower legs seemed to show signs of loosening. But that feeling was fleeting, and just as he tried to grasp it, it returned to its original state.

He gritted his teeth and persisted.

One hour of standing meditation was long and agonizing for Lin Ye. He could feel that the direction Teacher Zheng pointed out was correct, but his body was like a rusted machine, and every subtle adjustment was exceptionally difficult. Sweat had long since soaked through his training suit, and his thigh muscles were trembling violently, but he knew he was still far from "truly entering the gate."

There were a few students in the class who could already achieve "micro-circulation of blood and qi" while standing, and they could easily stand for over half an hour; that was the mark of reaching the "proficient" level in stance training.

As for himself, he couldn't even manage a stable fifteen minutes and could only be considered as having just started.

"Time's up!"

"Rest for ten minutes, then practice the fist technique."

At the command of Zheng Huai, a chorus of relieved gasps and sounds of people collapsing echoed through the gymnasium. Lin Ye also slowly withdrew his stance, feeling as if his legs were filled with lead. The waves of soreness coming from his ankles reminded him that his earlier adjustments had not been successful.

"Old Ye, you're really awesome."

"To be able to stand for so long without a word."

At this moment, a voice came from the side, and Lin Ye knew it was Zhang Hao just by the sound.

"Not at all, just a little longer than you."

Lin Ye said while panting, rubbing his legs with both hands in an attempt to relieve the pressure on his aching muscles.

"A little longer is still great; your blood and qi are growing faster than mine."

"Just thinking about Teacher Zheng coming to test us again in two days makes me panic."

Zhang Hao sighed from the side; his blood and qi value was at the bottom of the class, and he felt embarrassed every time there was a test.

"Don't think so much; eat well and practice more, and your blood and qi will go up."

Lin Ye comforted him, though this was also a way of comforting himself.

"Assemble! Rolling Stone Fist, prepare—"

A moment later, following Zheng Huai's instruction, Lin Ye stood firm again, set his stance, and began practicing the routine.

Punch, turn the waist, step forward.

The movements were fairly coherent, but the sense of stagnation when exerting force still existed. He could feel that at the moment of transition, the power transmission was not smooth enough, causing the momentum of his punch to weaken by a fraction.

It had been almost three years.

He had practiced the Rolling Stone Fist thousands of times, and those movements had long been carved into his muscle memory. It had only taken him half a year to go from "not entered" to "proficient."

But it had been nearly two years since he reached "proficient," and he still couldn't reach "mastery."

The mastery level theoretically required an understanding of force-exertion techniques and knowing how to mobilize the muscles of the entire body to coordinate an attack.

Lin Ye knew theoretically how to do it, but his body just couldn't keep up.

"Lin Ye, when throwing a punch, your waist must turn with the fist, don't stay stiff!"

Teacher Zheng's voice came from not far away, carrying a hint of helplessness. "How many times have I said it, the waist is the hub of power transmission."

Hearing this, Lin Ye gritted his teeth and adjusted, but his movements became even stiffer, falling into the vicious cycle of "the more you try to do it well, the worse you do."

Everything seemed to have returned to the starting point.

Hardworking yet clumsy.

His stiff body seemed to be mocking how unrealistic and childish his ideals were.