The Beginning 2

Lin Sheng was chased for two hundred meters by the Rotten Swordsman in one go. He was surprised by his own stamina, yet equally shocked by the creature's ferocity.

At the same time, he gained a newfound appreciation for the importance of a mercenary's combat instincts.

I'm lucky to have acquired this special instinct that can only be honed between life and death. This trip has truly helped me unlock the potential of this ability.

Lin Sheng stood in place to rest for a moment, feeling that stamina recovered faster in the dream than in reality.

He had been exhausted just a moment ago, but after barely ten minutes, he had already recovered.

He thrust his Black Sword into the soil with a shhh sound, crouched down, and scooped up a handful of the black earth.

The black soil was cold and firm, mixed with many black, root-like filaments and scattered, fine black pebbles.

Lin Sheng squeezed it gently; the soil was relatively loose. He then brought it to his nose and sniffed.

A stench of rotting flesh hit him head-on.

He tossed the soil aside, stood up, dusted off his hands, and pulled out his sword.

Based on the memories of those city guards, let's see if I can figure out who this guy is.

Several names flashed through his mind. His expression turned somber.

Let's try. Since it stopped here and didn't pursue, the most likely scenario is that it's one of these people.

Clutching the Black Sword, Lin Sheng moved forward slowly, taking a single step.

He had just crossed the pillar draped with the Black Eagle triangular flag.

Puff, puff, puff.

A sudden burst of rapid footsteps echoed from the fog ahead.

Lin Sheng's pupils constricted. He pointed the tip of his Black Sword forward, angling it toward the ground. His entire body tensed, ready to strike at any moment.

This stance was known as the Center Iron Gate. While it appeared to be an offensive posture, it was actually the most common primary defensive stance among the basics.

In less than three heartbeats:

A black figure rushed out of the fog, sprinting wildly. Its Black Sword was angled to the right, its stride like that of a maddened bull.

There was no time to think of a counter-move. From the moment Lin Sheng saw the figure appear to the moment its blade swung down, only a single heartbeat passed.

He quickly raised his sword and swung it upward with all his might.

Clang.

The two swords collided in an instant.

Under the moonlight, the Rotten Swordsman's Black Sword was deflected upward by Lin Sheng's preemptive parry.

However, the creature remained unfazed. It followed through with a 360-degree spin, and the Black Sword came slashing down again.

Lin Sheng felt his entire body go weak and sore, so he hurriedly took a step back.

Shhh. The Rotten Swordsman's Black Sword swept past him, missing by a single centimeter. It plunged downward, burying itself deep into the black soil.

The sharp black blade, driven by momentum, sank nearly a third of its length into the ground.

Now is the time!! Lin Sheng's eyes lit up. He lunged forward, gathering all his remaining strength, and thrust his Black Sword forward.

The Rotten Swordsman tried to pull its weapon free, but unfortunately, the blade was buried too deep to be extracted quickly.

Having lost the initiative, the creature couldn't react in time. Puff—Lin Sheng ran it through on the spot.

Puff!

The slender blade of the Black Sword pierced straight through the creature's heart, driving in until the crossguard hit its chest, black blood spraying out.

Most of the blade protruded from the Rotten Swordsman's back, with black blood dripping steadily from the tip.

Big win! Lin Sheng felt a wave of relief and joy, his gamble with the soft soil having paid off. It was only because a monster like this lacked a brain; a normal person would never have fallen for such a trick.

Unfortunately, before he could revel in his victory for long, a sharp, searing pain radiated from his abdomen.

Lin Sheng stumbled, loosened his grip on the hilt, and took two steps back, looking down at his lower stomach.

A short dagger had appeared there out of nowhere—a dagger with a curved hilt shaped like a black snake.

The blade was buried deep in his abdomen, and along with the pain came a faint sense of numbness.

Possessing the memories of multiple soldiers, Lin Sheng immediately recognized this as the sensation of a toxin spreading.

Damn it. I got careless.

Enduring the pain, he mimicked what he'd seen in dramas, grabbed the hilt of the dagger, and yanked it out with a fierce tug.

Puff!

Blood sprayed all over his hand and splashed onto the ground in a large, wet, and clearly visible pool.

Holy crap. It's spraying even more!! I'm going to die!!

Lin Sheng felt as if his stomach had been punctured and was leaking air uncontrollably.

It's not a feeling—it really is a hole!

He clutched his stomach and collapsed to the ground.

One meter in front of him, the Rotten Swordsman lay slumped on the ground, motionless. It was clear he was thoroughly dead.

Wisps of black smoke slowly rose from the body, coalescing into a thread that flew toward him in silence.

With a soft hiss, the black thread plunged precisely into Lin Sheng's chest.

That's good. At least I didn't lose out. Lin Sheng immediately felt a familiar headache wash over him.

A massive influx of memory fragments surged frantically into his brain. The pain in his head, layered atop the agony in his stomach, left him wanting to laugh and cry all at once.

Forget it. There's no way I'm surviving this trip anyway.

Without hesitation, he gripped the dagger he had just pulled out and drove it fiercely into his own throat.

A wave of suffocating pain rapidly spread throughout his entire body.

Lin Sheng felt his vision go black, darkening rapidly, before his sight blurred and he lost consciousness entirely.

He snapped his eyes open. Everything before him was pitch black, and breathing was difficult. The quilt had completely covered him.

Wah!

He threw off the quilt and gasped for air.

In the middle of the night, he had been smothered under the covers, struggling to breathe. Even though it wasn't cold outside, he didn't have a single drop of sweat on him. Instead, he felt chillingly cold.

"I used to think the mercenary's method of treating wounds was too outdated and should have used more advanced modern medical techniques. I never expected... Damn it, I'm never watching those TV shows again!"

The moment Lin Sheng recalled the gruesome scene of pulling out the dagger, his temper flared.

Although that kind of injury would have been fatal no matter how it was treated, he might have at least been able to hold on a little longer, right?

He sat on the bed, panting, and rested for a while.

Lin Sheng reached out to the bedside table and picked up his alarm clock.

Four-sixteen.

"Still early. I can sleep a bit more."

However, to his surprise, he didn't feel as mentally drained this time after dying.

"Hm? It feels like my spirit wasn't affected?" Lin Sheng grew puzzled and carefully examined his state.

He quickly rolled out of bed and turned on the desk lamp.

"The best way to test my mental state is to do some problems!"

Without a second thought, he pulled out a math workbook, opened it, and picked a calculation problem at random.

Swish, swish, swish. In no time at all, he solved the problem at a speed similar to his usual pace.

"No change. It seems it really wasn't affected."

Refusing to believe it, Lin Sheng quickly solved a few more problems.

The results were the same as before. Whether it was the time taken or the process of solving them, everything was incredibly smooth, without the slightest hesitation.

"Wait, it feels like I haven't died in a long time?"

Lin Sheng suddenly thought of something.

"Could it be that one can gradually adapt to death?"

He couldn't help but feel there must be a pattern to it.

"Or, is it related to those black threads I absorbed?"

He made a mental note of it for now, turned off the lamp, and lay back down on the bed.

If it didn't affect his mental state, that was for the best. Otherwise, with the college entrance exam approaching, having his condition compromised would be more than just a little troublesome.

With the worry of mental exhaustion gone, Lin Sheng finally began to recall the memories he had just absorbed.

That guy, who was completely different from the previous Rotten Swordsmen, should be able to give him something different.