CHAPTER 15: MARTIAL GOD TECHNIQUE

Aric stood in the middle of his room, reading the glowing panel that detailed his reward.

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Martial God Technique

An ancient and unparalleled cultivation method passed down from the age of the gods, said to have been forged by the first Martial God who transcended mortality. It surpasses ordinary martial cultivation, blending martial and divine aspects to forge a path toward godhood.

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It was powerful—perhaps the strongest cultivation technique in existence—but Aric already knew that. What he wanted was to understand how he could actually practice it.

"Guide, what now?" he asked.

The guide, who had been quietly observing, floated toward him. With a graceful gesture, she summoned another panel into existence.

"The rewarded technique is built on the principle of balance between destruction and creation, chaos and order. It harmonizes the body’s strength with the soul’s power, forming a union that transcends mortal limits. To begin, you must embrace both the raw, destructive force of the universe and the nurturing force of life, achieving perfect equilibrium."

The panel shifted, now displaying a figure seated cross-legged.

"Please follow my instructions. Sit as shown," the guide said gesturing to the figure on the panel.

Aric nodded and dropped into position.

"The technique requires three essential ingredients: the Essence of the World, Bladed Rock from Kasuga Mountain, and the Venom of the Serpent Dragon."

Aric nodded again, though he had no idea of the impossibility behind what she’d just listed.

The Essence of the World was said to be water gathered from a dried pond at the peak of Kasuga Mountain, where legend held the Martial God ascended. The mountain drew in the world’s ki, absorbed by that pond. After decades, only a few drops could ever be found.

From the same mountain, in the Caves of Seclusion where the Martial God once cultivated, dripstone was said to harden sharper than any forged blade. A shard of that "bladed rock" was required.

And finally, the venom of the Serpent Dragon, an ancient beast that roamed the frozen north.

"When the Essence of the World is ingested, immense ki floods the body, forcefully opening ki channels. This serves as the foundation of the technique."

The panel showed the figure’s body illuminated with streaming ki, carving open new channels.

"This will cause pain beyond measure," the guide added, moving briskly to the next step.

"You will then be stabbed with the Kasuga Blade. Normally, this eradicates the soul. But having consumed the Essence of the World, your soul will resist. It will be shattered, then reforged in ki’s forging flame. You are likely to die at this step."

Aric’s eyes widened, genuine worry twisting his face. He could have sworn she’d just said likely to die—but the casual way she said it made him doubt himself.

"Finally, ingesting a minimal amount of Serpent Dragon venom will destroy your bones and nervous system. However, while the Essence of the World remains active, your body cannot die from physical damage. Your skeleton will be rebuilt stronger, reforged by ki."

The panel shifted again, showing the figure’s bones splintering and reforming.

"This too is extremely painful. And though pain won’t kill you, trauma might," the guide said evenly.

Aric’s excitement curdled into horror. Each step sounded less like cultivation and more like a death sentence. Still reeling, he heard her robotic voice ask:

"Would you like to begin the process?"

Aric stared blankly.

"...You know what? I’m not so sure anymore."

The guide tilted her head, drifting closer, studying the sweat on his brow.

"I sense fear. Allow me to reassure you: survival probability is a considerable 23.765%."

Aric groaned and collapsed onto the floor, staring up at his cobweb-covered ceiling.

He had dreamed of becoming a martial artist with the strongest foundation, yet the price looked more like suicide than ascension.

’If I live—even weak—I can still use my knowledge of the future. I can still exact revenge, frustrate their plans, accomplish something. But if I die... I lose everything.’

A dilemma pressed down on him: pursue strength and risk death, or stay weak and settle for a smaller, bitter revenge.

’I can’t do this... Maybe I’ll find another way later, another technique, something safer. I have the system—there will always be another chance.’

His thoughts spiraled, fear clawing at him. His clenched fist slammed against the floor.

"Excuses," he spat, slamming it down again.

"That’s all I made last time. Excuses! I told myself my chance would come, that my brothers would accept me, that one day I’d be respected. Lies! All of it—because I was terrified of the truth. That as long as I was the weakest, I was destined to be a failure.

Not again. Not this time."

Aric sat up sharply, fire in his eyes.

"This time, I won’t make excuses. I won’t beg for respect—I’ll demand it. So pray, all of you. Pray to every god you know that I don’t survive this!" he shouted, before turning to the guide.

"Let’s begin."