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[!] You have purchased the item: Soul-Forged Banner!
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[!] Time's up! You will now be forcefully transported to the Sixth Floor!
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The flashes of the transparent screen quickly grew blurry as Ji Wuye's entire body disintegrated into countless glowing blue cubic lights.
These lights scattered before rapidly gathering again, reconstructing his form piece by piece, each particle seeming to vibrate with energy. As his eyes fluttered open, he saw he was in a completely different place.
The sky above still resembled daylight, but the clouds were thick and menacing, casting an oppressive atmosphere.
It reminded him of the time he had fought the Black Thunder Emperor—dark clouds smothered the sky then too, with faint light peeking through but never bright enough to pierce through the gloom.
Beneath the foreboding sky, Ji Wuye found himself standing in a vast, eerie valley surrounded by jagged cliffs that jutted out like the teeth of some ancient, slumbering beast.
Shadows loomed on every corner, and a faint mist coiled around his feet with an unsettling presence, as if alive and watching his every move. Not mentioning the air was also thick with the metallic tang of old blood and the musty scent of decay.
While on the other hand, the ground was littered with remnants of past battles: broken weapons, rusted armor, and skeletal remains of long-dead warriors.
The corpses appeared to include soldiers clothed in both familiar and foreign armor, their empty eye sockets seeming to follow Ji Wuye as he cautiously made his way through the macabre scene.
Some bore the streamlined full plate designs he recognized, while others were clad in what looked like crude lumps of steel, their forms twisted and misshapen by the ravages of time and battle.
Among the scattered debris, certain weapons still glimmered faintly, their strange glow seemingly beckoning to him, as if yearning for a worthy owner to wield them once more.
"This one's a good find," Ji Wuye muttered as his gaze lingered on a luminous sword lying amidst the wreckage. He knelt, the bones and debris crunching beneath his feet, and picked it up with a careful hand.
The weapon didn't resemble a traditional jian or double-edged sword. Instead, it was single-edged and slightly curved, resembling the fang of a predator bared to strike. Its hilt was unusually wide, and though patches of the blade appeared dulled by age and battle.
But, as soon as Ji Wuye grasped the sword...
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[!] You have equipped the remnant weapon of the fallen knight: Arden Fang!
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As a transparent screen materialized before him, the next moment his vision was abruptly overtaken by a vivid scene that seemed to bleed into reality, the valley around him fading into the background.
Under a blood-red sky, where kingdoms clashed in endless war, a lone man stood triumphant atop a towering mountain of corpses, his boots sinking into the viscera-slicked pile.
His armor glistened crimson, drenched in the blood of his vanquished foes, the metallic stench of it thick in the air. In his grasp was a blade unlike any other.
Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.
The sword gleamed with a polished mirror-like finish, reflecting the chaos around it while its razor-sharp edge seemed to cut even the reflections it cast, leaving behind fractured images that shimmered and dissolved.
Its single-edged, slightly curved design struck the perfect balance—wide enough for devastating blows that could cleave a man in twain, yet light enough to allow for precise control in the hands of a master.
Yes, the sword in the lone warrior's hand bore an uncanny resemblance to the blade Ji Wuye had just gripped—Arden Fang.
Meanwhile, the lone man, though powerful and seemingly unstoppable, moved as though the blade grew heavier with each stroke, slowing him down.
His movements became fatigued, labored, as though the weapon drained not only his agility but his very life force with every swing. His chest heaved with the effort, spittle and sweat mingling with the blood that coated his face in a grotesque mask. Yet still he fought on, driven by a hunger that could never be sated.
Abruptly, the scene shattered like glass, the shards seeming to cut into Ji Wuye's mind before dissipating entirely. He was yanked out of the vision by the sudden appearance of another translucent screen hovering before him.
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[!] As long as you wield this weapon, your Strength attribute increases by 1%, with a bonus that grows over time up to a maximum of 50%!
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[>>[WARNING!]<<]
You have equipped the cursed sword, Arden Fang! This weapon constantly drains Agility. Prolonged use will render you sluggish, slowing both body and mind!
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Ji Wuye's gaze lingered on the flickering screen for a moment, his brow furrowed in contemplation before his fingers reflexively loosened their grip on the sword.
The weapon, Arden Fang, fell to the ground with a dull thud that seemed to reverberate through the eerie silence, sending puffs of dust and bone fragments swirling around.
"Looks good on the outside, but..." Ji Wuye muttered, letting his unfinished words hang in the air as his attention was quickly drawn elsewhere by a familiar sight.
At the heart of the valley, his eyes locked onto a massive altar surrounded by a mysterious, flickering flame.
The fire was no ordinary blaze—it burned with a faint green hue, ghostly and unnatural, wrapping the towering structure in otherworldly light that cast elongated, writhing shadows across the littered ground. The emerald flames danced and licked at the air as if alive, hungry for something more to consume.
'It's still the same,' Ji Wuye thought, a knowing smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he took in the hauntingly familiar landscape.
The eerie valley, with jagged cliffs looming overhead like obsidian fangs, the faint mist coiling around his feet like a living thing, and those fleeting visions from holding the cursed weapon—it was all too familiar, etched into his memory as if burned there with a white-hot brand.
Now, before him stood the very same altar, ominous and unchanging, radiating the same oppressive aura that seemed to leach the warmth from the air itself. And then, what would come next..
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[>>[QUEST]<<]
You have reached the 6th floor of the Tower of the God!
[>] Objective: Complete the challenges within 1 day!
[!] Consequence: DEATH!
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'The same challenge,' Ji Wuye thought, his eyes narrowing as the transparent screen hovered before him. But his thoughts were abruptly shattered by a deafening voice that echoed throughout the eerie valley.
"You tread upon sacred ground, where the fallen await. Prove your worth, or be consumed by regret," the disembodied voice boomed, the words ringing with the weight of an inescapable vow.
As the final words of the proclamation faded into an ominous silence, the glowing weapons scattered across the ground—including Arden Fang, which Ji Wuye had just discarded—began to levitate, trembling with an unnatural energy that set the air itself aquiver.
From every direction, a faint greenish glow emerged, coalescing into ethereal mists that swirled and congealed into vaguely humanoid shapes. And one by one, ghostly forms began to materialize around Ji Wuye, their spectral outlines solidifying into the unmistakable figures of armed warriors.
What had been mere fragments of old battles—the discarded weapons, scattered bones, and rusted armor—now assembled themselves into ghostly figures through some unholy sorcery.
A sea of spectral warriors clad in full armor that shimmered with a sickly green luminescence wielded their ethereal weapons, encircling Ji Wuye on all sides in a slowly tightening noose.
'There's definitely a change this time,' Ji Wuye thought, eyes scanning the countless apparitions that filled the valley. Their presence was suffocating, oppressive, as the sheer number of ghosts crowded every cun of the makeshift battlefield, leaving no quarter to retreat or respite.
Compared to the same challenge he had encountered in the previous timeline, this was—
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[!] Your passive skill, Feline Reflexes (C), has been triggered!
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Ji Wuye's thoughts were suddenly interrupted as his skill activated. A green glow streaked toward him—the blade of one of the spectral warriors, plunging straight for his head in a deadly thrust.
It was the familiar weapon he had just held moments ago and carelessly discarded: Arden Fang, now wielded by a malicious ethereal force.
Ji Wuye casually reacted, his body blurring into motion with almost disdainful ease as he tilted his head to the side, effortlessly avoiding the strike.
The ghostly blade passed so close that he could feel the chill against his cheek, yet Ji Wuye didn't so much as flinch, his expression one of casual indifference to the lethal threat.
The next moment...
WOOSH!
His counterpunch flew fast and true, a blur of motion as his fist reflexively lashed out. It passed through the ghost's intangible form without resistance, momentarily breaking the apparition into wisps of green vapor before it re-formed as if nothing had happened.
“Well, as expected,” he muttered, nodding to himself as though treating the encounter as nothing more than a test subject for experimentation.
"KEKEKEK!" The ghost cackled, a bone-chilling laugh like nails on a slate as its intangible form twisted unnaturally, reforming in the blink of an eye.
Defying logic itself, the spectral figure swung its sword at Ji Wuye again, this time aiming a wide slash to cleave into his side with cold malice. But, he simply flowed around the attack with contemptuous ease.
Then, he glanced around the battlefield, his sharp eyes rapidly identifying what little empty space remained—just enough room for him to maneuver, to dance amidst the blades and twist away from their lethal arcs.
The sheer number of ghosts swarming toward him made the once vast valley feel claustrophobically small, their faint green hues melding into an unending ocean of sickly light and steel that threatened to drown him beneath its relentless tide. Still they advanced, the ceaseless footfalls of the spectral army shaking the very earth.
Yet Ji Wuye's expression was one of exhilaration rather than trepidation. '—It was never about the size of the army,' he thought with a smirk, his lips curling into a feral grin.
