Darkness pressed in from every side. Dymas floated in it, weightless, bodiless. No pain now. No heartbeat. Just the slow fade of everything he had been.
He had expected something else. A tunnel of light, maybe. Ancestors waiting with judgment. Or nothing at all, just endless black. Instead there was this voice, calm and mechanical, cutting through the void like a blade.
"Host detected. Dymas Blackthorn. Status: clinical death. Soul intact. Conditions met."
The words appeared as glowing blue text directly in his vision, even though he had no eyes anymore. The letters were sharp, clean, floating in front of him like they had always been there.
Infinite Cultivation System – Activation Sequence
Host compatibility: 100%
Core function unlocked: Infinite Grind Points
Current points: 10,847
Source breakdown:
• Lifetime humiliation accumulated: 4,200
• Public disgrace tonight: 3,500
• Family betrayal: 2,000
• Death by curse: 1,147
Dymas stared at the numbers. Ten thousand eight hundred forty-seven. Points. From his life. From every sneer, every failed test, every time Eldric had looked down at him like he was dirt. From the moment the curse first showed in his veins when he was seven. From the whipping in the central square. From the way his own father had turned away when the healers said there was no cure.
The screen shifted. New text scrolled across it.
Body reset in progress. Malfunctioning meridians repaired. Cursed qi reclassified as resource.
Welcome, host. Your path to supremacy begins now.
A faint warmth started in what used to be his chest. It spread outward, slow at first, then faster. It felt like fire running through dry veins, burning away rot. His mind flashed with images: black blood turning silver, cracked meridians knitting together, the curse that had eaten him alive now folding in on itself, becoming something else. Something useful.
The warmth turned to pressure. His nonexistent body jerked. Pain returned, but it was different. Sharp, clean, like muscles waking up after years of sleep. Bones realigned with small cracks he felt more than heard. Skin tightened. Blood rushed back, hot and strong.
Rebirth complete.
Current realm: Qi Condensation Layer 1 (forced entry)
Remaining points: 10,847
Available actions:
• Open Shop
• Assign Points
• View Status
The darkness cracked open. Light poured in, faint at first, then blinding. The courtyard snapped back into focus. The cracked flagstones under his cheek. The dead lantern swaying above. The night air cool against his skin.
Dymas gasped. His lungs filled. His heart slammed once, twice, steady and powerful. He pushed himself up on elbows that no longer shook. The black lines under his skin had faded to thin gray traces, barely visible. His breathing came deep and even. The metallic taste of blood was gone from his mouth.
He sat up fully. His tunic, still torn at the sleeves, felt looser now, like his shoulders had broadened slightly. He touched his face. The scar on his cheek was still there but the skin around it felt smoother. Healthier.
The blue screen hovered in front of his eyes, invisible to anyone else. It waited patiently.
Dymas looked around the courtyard. Nothing had changed. The weeds still pushed through the stones. The wooden doors were still closed. Dawn was still hours away. But everything felt different. Sharper. The faint qi in the air, the kind ordinary people barely noticed, pressed against his skin like mist. He could taste it now, metallic and alive.
He raised a hand. His fingers trembled, not from weakness, but from the rush of energy moving under his skin. He clenched his fist. The muscles responded instantly, stronger than they had been in years.
He tapped the air where "View Status" floated.
A new window expanded.
Host: Dymas Blackthorn
Age: 19
Realm: Qi Condensation Layer
Stats:
• Strength: 5 (+1 from reset)
• Agility: 6 (+1)
• Vitality: 5 (+2)
• Qi Capacity: 4 (cursed qi reclassified)
• Intelligence: 12
Skills: None
Techniques: None
Special: Cursed Qi Absorber (passive) – Convert cursed qi and external toxins into Grind Points
Current Grind Points: 10,847
Dymas read it twice. The numbers were real. The changes were real. His body felt real. Stronger. Cleaner.
He stood up slowly. His legs held without protest. He walked a few steps, testing. No limp. No stabbing pain in his ribs. He jumped once, lightly. He landed without wincing.
A small laugh escaped him, rough and surprised. It echoed off the courtyard walls.
He stopped in front of the dead lantern. The flame had gone out, but a faint glow remained in the wick. He reached out and touched it. A spark jumped to his fingertip, drawn by the qi now moving freely in his meridians.
He pulled his hand back. The spark died.
"Okay," he muttered. "Let's see what this thing can do."
He focused on the screen again. "Assign Points."
The stat window reopened. Below each number was a small plus sign.
Dymas hesitated. He had no idea how the system worked beyond the basics. Spend too much in one place? Waste it? He needed to be smart.
He started small. Tapped the plus next to Vitality three times. Each tap cost 300 points. The number climbed to 8. A warm rush spread through his chest and limbs. His breathing deepened. The last traces of exhaustion vanished.
Next, Strength. Two taps. 600 points gone. His arms felt heavier, denser. He flexed his hand. The muscles stood out more clearly under his skin.
Agility one tap. 300 points. His movements felt smoother, quicker.
He stopped at 1,200 points spent. Better to save the rest until he knew more.
Points remaining: 9,647
He opened "Shop" next.
A grid appeared, rows of items and skills listed with prices.
Basic Sword Intent Lv.1 – 2,000 points
Shadow Step Lv.1 – 1,500 points
Pain to Power Converter (passive) – 3,000 points
Auto-Cultivation Module Lv.1 – 1,000 points
Low-Grade Spirit Sword – 800 points
Qi Gathering Pill (x10) – 500 points
And more. Dozens of entries. Some grayed out, locked behind higher realms or quests.
Dymas stared at "Auto-Cultivation Module Lv.1." The description read: Passive absorption of ambient qi at 10x normal rate. No meditation required.
That one. He needed to cultivate fast if he wanted to survive the night.
He selected it. 1,000 points deducted.
Auto-Cultivation Module Lv.1 acquired.
A faint hum started in his dantian, low in his abdomen. Qi from the air began to trickle in, slow but steady, without any effort on his part. He felt it gather, condense, strengthen the thin layer of energy in his core.
He closed his eyes for a moment. The courtyard faded. He could sense the qi around him more clearly now. Thin threads floating in the night air, drawn toward him like iron to a magnet.
When he opened his eyes again, the blue screen had updated.
Current realm progress: Qi Condensation Layer 1 – 15%
Small, but real.
He looked toward the eastern gate. The path out of the capital. One horse, one waterskin, and nothing else. That was the order. But orders meant nothing now.
He walked to the wooden doors. They were barred from the outside. He placed a hand on the wood. The grain felt rough under his palm. He pushed.
The bar snapped with a dry crack. The doors swung open.
He stepped through.
The corridor beyond was empty. Torches burned low in wall sconces. No guards. They had assumed he was too weak to move, let alone break out.
Dymas kept walking. His steps were quiet, deliberate.
He passed the training yard where he had once sparred as a child. The wooden dummies stood in rows, scarred from thousands of strikes. He paused for a second, remembering the feel of a sword in his hand.
Not tonight.
He moved on.
The eastern gate loomed ahead. Two guards stood at the postern door, spears leaning against the wall. They were talking in low voices, laughing about something.
Dymas stopped in the shadows. His heart beat steady. No fear. Just calculation.
He had points. He had a system. He had a second chance.
One of the guards yawned. "Think the trash prince is still breathing?"
"Probably not," the other said. "Curse like that? He'll be dead before sunrise."
Dymas stepped out into the torchlight.
The guards turned. Their eyes widened.
"You," one said. "You're supposed to be—"
Dymas moved.
He closed the distance in three steps. His hand shot out, grabbed the first guard by the throat. Strength surged through his arm. The man's windpipe collapsed with a wet crunch.
The second guard fumbled for his spear. Too slow.
Dymas drove his fist into the man's chest. Ribs cracked. The guard flew back, hit the wall, and slid down without a sound.
Two bodies on the ground. Blood pooling.
A notification flashed.
Kill x2: +1,000 Grind Points
Current points: 10,647
Dymas looked down at his hands. No tremble. No regret.
He took the waterskin from one guard's belt. Took the spear from the other. Then he pushed the postern door open.
The night air outside the palace was colder, cleaner. The city sprawled below, lights twinkling like scattered stars.
He stepped through the gate.