The early morning was the perfect time for cultivation; as the saying goes, a day’s success is determined in the morning. Clearing out the residue accumulated overnight ensures one remains tireless throughout the day!” a stern, middle-aged man instructed, standing before a dozen youths.
“Bandits have been rampant recently. Though I drove off one group, there’s no guarantee a second won’t appear. To prevent disaster, our village must have the power to defend itself. The Village Chief tasked me with training you for this very reason! By rights, you are all rather old, and starting cultivation now is somewhat late. Becoming a (Míng Shì) is certainly out of the question, but if you train diligently, there is still hope of becoming a (Tóng Jiǎ Shì)! Everyone, start by running one lap around the small path bordering the fields. Afterwards, I will teach you the fixed stances for (Tóng Jiǎ Shì) training!” the man said.
“Run… this single lap is easily ten kilometers. Once we finish, we’ll have no energy left to train,” the dozen youths complained in unison.
“What are you complaining about? Tiger Pond Village has produced four (Míng Shī) powerhouses in a hundred years; which one of them didn't persevere in their training? If you wish to stand out, you must endure hardships beyond the common man. You complain about a simple lap, so how can you ever attain real strength?” the man roared, exasperated.
“Teacher White, I have a question,” one youth asked.
The middle-aged man, White, grew stern. “What is it? Speak,” he commanded.
“I want to become a (Míng Shì); I don't want to train my body! Because even if I become a (Tóng Jiǎ Shì), what use is it? I won't last a single exchange against a (Míng Shì),” the youth replied.
“A (Tóng Jiǎ Shì) is useless? Who said that?” White’s eyebrows shot up. He turned and spotted a rounded stone, standing half a meter high, nearby. He strode over, casually hooked his toe under it, and the stone lifted gently into his hand.
The stone looked to weigh over 500 jin, yet he held it as if it weighed nothing, drawing gasps of admiration from the assembled boys.
White ignored their worshipful gazes. His arm muscles bunched, taut as a drawn bowstring. He exhaled, bellowed, and tossed the stone upward. It soared nearly twenty meters into the air.
As the stone began its descent, his right arm whipped out like a viper striking, hitting the center of the rock dead on.
“CRASH!”
The stone, weighing over 500 jin, shattered into pieces under the force of his single punch.
“Wow…” All the youths were conquered by White’s might, their eyes wide with newfound reverence.
“I am merely a Sixth-Level (Tóng Jiǎ Shì), and I possess this much power. If you were stones, could you escape? (Míng Shì) are indeed formidable, but they still require time to harness the power of nature. In a close-quarters, frontal confrontation, a (Míng Shì) of the same level is absolutely no match for a (Tóng Jiǎ Shì)!” White’s gaze bored into them, sharp and unwavering.
“Do you understand?” he demanded.
“We understand!” the youths roared back in unison. Gone was their earlier lethargy; they were now invigorated.
“Good. I hope that among this group, we will see not only (Tóng Jiǎ Shì) in the future, but even (Jiǎ Shì) and (Jīn Jiǎ Shì). Do not shame Tiger Pond Village!” White instructed.
“Yes!” Confidence filled the eyes of the youths. They inherently admired strength, previously only holding (Míng Shì) in awe, but seeing the terrifying power of a (Tóng Jiǎ Shì) now filled them with intense yearning.
“Alright, running begins now!” White commanded, pointing forward.
The youths responded in unison and, without hesitation, began running neatly along the field path.
Just as the group disappeared from view, a young girl, perhaps fifteen or sixteen, approached from behind, watching White. “Father, you looked so imposing just now!”
A slight smile touched White’s resolute face. He ruffled the girl’s hair. “A bunch of little fools, all dreaming of being (Míng Shì). Is it really too late for them to start meditating at their age? If I don’t show them my true strength, they will never grasp what power truly means!”
He then looked at the girl with a tender expression. “Little Rou, you grow older every day. Look over these young men; is there any you fancy? Your father can certainly vet them properly for you!”
The girl’s face flushed crimson. “Daughter is only sixteen this year; I’m still young!”
“Not too young. Your mother was also sixteen when she married me,” White chuckled.
“Oh, stop it…” the girl said playfully. “If I marry one day, it will be to someone as strong as you, Father. Look at these boys; which one compares to you?”
White shook his head, about to respond, when two of the boys who had run off returned.
“What are you doing? Retreating before you’ve even started running?” White roared, his voice like that of an ox, making the girl’s ears ring.
“No… no, Teacher White, we found a boy in the paddy field ahead. He’s terribly wounded; he looks like he’s dying!” one of the running boys gasped.
“Hmm? Take me to see him!” White said, striding forward immediately.
“I’m coming too,” the girl called, jogging to keep up, her long, dark hair streaming behind her.
Soon, White reached the center of the boys’ circle. He pushed through the crowd and indeed saw a red-haired youth lying flat on the ground.
“Ah…” the girl shrieked, quickly turning her face away, her cheeks burning like scarlet cloth.
The red-haired youth’s clothes were completely shredded into rags, leaving him virtually naked. His bronze skin and defined, robust muscles exuded raw power. Faint traces of blood stained the remnants of his clothing, but strangely, his skin was as smooth as silk, completely unmarred by any visible wound.
White meticulously examined the red-haired youth, frowning deeply.
“Is he dead?” one of the boys asked curiously.
White did not reply. “Carry him back to my home!”
“Yes…” The dozen boys, working together, carried the unconscious youth to White’s house.
“Father, how is he?”
The red-haired youth had been changed into clean clothes, and the blush on the girl’s face finally subsided. She asked with curiosity.
“It’s very strange. Based on his heartbeat and breathing, this boy seems even more normal than I am, yet he remains in a deep coma,” White shook his head, perplexed.
“Father, where do you think he’s from? Why did he collapse in our fields?” the girl inquired.
“I don’t know,” White admitted. “But judging by the firmness of his musculature, he is likely a (Tóng Jiǎ Shì).”
He walked out of the room and turned to the girl. “Little Rou, you watch over him for now. I need to go train those boys!” He strode out.
The girl known as Little Rou stared at the bare-chested youth with her bright eyes, sitting beside the table, resting her chin in her hands, looking somewhat dazed. “ (Tóng Jiǎ Shì)… (Tóng Jiǎ Shì)…” A flush crept across her face as she presumably recalled something.
“Little Rou…” a voice, ancient and gentle, drifted in from the doorway.
“Grandpa!” Little Rou jumped up. “Are you back from fishing?”
An old man, carrying a fishing rod over his shoulder, smiled as he walked in, giving Little Rou a look, and setting down a bucket brimming with fish.
“Wow, today’s catch is magnificent! I knew as soon as Grandpa went out, he’d bring back tons of fish!” Little Rou exclaimed excitedly.
“Mm. Who is that in the house?” the old man spotted the youth lying on the bed.
“That’s the person Father rescued today; he’s been unconscious,” Little Rou explained.
“Oh?” The old man walked forward in two strides to look at the youth. After a moment of study, he suddenly said, “Go boil some water and prepare some food. He is about to wake up.”
“He’s about to wake up? How do you know, Grandpa?” Little Rou’s eyes widened in disbelief.
“Your grandfather was a Third-Level (Míng Shì) back in the day. If I couldn’t sense something as simple as this, I might as well stop living!” He shook his head with a smile and moved into another room.
…………………………………………………………………………
When Chen Feng finished executing the Muga, it caused a spatial distortion, and being smashed into the void by the Jin Xuan Hu (Golden Profound Tiger), he had inexplicably arrived here.
In King of Fighters, Shingo Yabuki traveled from Japan to New York under Kyo Kusanagi’s Muga, initiating the storyline of KOF ‘98. It seemed Chen Feng’s execution of the Muga produced a similar effect.
His broken ribs and bleeding wounds had already been completely healed under the nourishment of the Dark Qi vortex within his body; however, the powerful spiritual damage he sustained kept him in a coma.
Fuzzily, countless figures flashed past him. Chen Feng, clutching his throbbing head, slowly opened his eyes.
“He’s really awake!” Little Rou cried out excitedly.
“Where am I?” Chen Feng asked.
“At my house!” Little Rou quickly replied.
Chen Feng slowly sat up. Aside from the ache in his skull, there was no discomfort elsewhere. He loosened the fist he had been tightly gripping and saw that the Demon Core from Elder Yan Long was still in his hand.
He concentrated, but sensed not a trace of Yan Long’s aura. His heart instantly sank.
“Elder Yan Long must have fallen back into slumber.”
Yan Long had used his remnant soul to control the Five-Clawed Golden Dragon twice and helped him unleash the Muga. The energy supplied by one Saint Domain Demon Core was entirely depleted, causing him to slip back into dormancy.
“Elder Yan Long only had three opportunities to awaken. If he dissipates next time, he will never wake up again! Divine Spark, I will certainly find the Divine Spark next time to revive Elder Yan Long!” Chen Feng swore inwardly, placing the Demon Core into a water jug.
Noticing his clothes had been changed, he realized this girl must have saved him. He bowed deeply. “Thank you for saving me!”
“No, no…” Little Rou waved her hands frantically, a delicate flush rising on her fair cheeks. “It was my father who saved you!”
Chen Feng nodded and asked again, “Where is this place?”
“This is my home…” Little Rou paused, realizing what he meant, and quickly added, “This is Tiger Pond Village!”
“Tiger Pond Village?” The continent was vast; how could he know of a Tiger Pond Village?
“Which Empire?” Chen Feng couldn't help but ask.
“Empire?” Little Rou blinked. “What is an Empire?”
“How is your region divided? Who rules over you?” Chen Feng wasn't sure how to explain the concept.
“Are you referring to the Faith? Tiger Pond Village enjoys the glory of Bishop Dima and falls under the jurisdiction of the Kega Holy See,” Little Rou replied.
“Holy See?” Chen Feng froze. In his memory, the continent he knew had no organized religion, let alone a Holy See.
“Who… do you worship?” he asked cautiously.
“We worship the great God of Justice!” Little Rou declared, then looked at Chen Feng’s strange expression. “Did you… perhaps suffer amnesia?”
“…Amnesia?” Chen Feng nearly fainted, simultaneously wondering who this God of Justice was, and where on earth he had landed. Judging by the girl’s tone, this was the continent he knew, yet she spoke of things that sounded utterly foreign. Could I have transmigrated again? A wave of absurdity washed over him.
“You’re awake!” White strode in.
Chen Feng glanced at him, sweeping him with his spiritual sense, confirming the man was only a Sixth-Level Fighter.
White extended a large hand. “White, Sixth-Level (Tóng Jiǎ Shì). You don’t need to explain; seeing your physique, you must also be a (Tóng Jiǎ Shì)!”
“ (Tóng Jiǎ Shì)?” Chen Feng heard this classification for the first time. He was clearly a Sixth-Level Fighter; where did this (Tóng Jiǎ Shì) title come from?
“Father, he… seems to have amnesia!” Little Rou quietly shared her conclusion with her father.
“Amnesia?” White looked Chen Feng over, a flicker of understanding crossing his face. He nodded. “Follow me!”
Saying that, he walked briskly out.
Chen Feng followed him into the courtyard, where dozens of stone locks of varying sizes lay scattered. The lightest weighed about one jin, while the heaviest looked to be no less than 5,000 jin.
“There are only two types of guards in the Hall of the Faith: one is the revered (Míng Sī Shì), or (Míng Shì) for short; the other is the (Tóng Jiǎ Shì), martial artists like myself who rely on physical strength. Seeing your solid build radiating immense power, you certainly aren’t a (Míng Shì)—you must be a (Tóng Jiǎ Shì)!” White explained.
“ (Míng Shì)? (Tóng Jiǎ Shì)?” Chen Feng was even more bewildered.
His confusion only solidified White’s belief that he had lost his memory. He continued his explanation. “ (Tóng Jiǎ Shì) are graded based on physical strength. Being able to lift a stone lock of X jin qualifies one as First-Level (Tóng Jiǎ Shì); lifting Y jin makes you Second-Level, and so on. A Sixth-Level (Tóng Jiǎ Shì) like myself can lift a 1,200 jin lock! A Ninth-Level (Tóng Jiǎ Shì) can lift an 1,800 jin lock, and lifting a 5,000 jin lock proves one has reached (Yín Jiǎ Shì) level!”
The jump from the maximum (Tóng Jiǎ Shì) weight of 1,800 jin to the (Yín Jiǎ Shì) threshold of 5,000 jin clearly illustrated the gulf between the two ranks.
Hearing this, Chen Feng finally understood. (Tóng Jiǎ Shì) and (Yín Jiǎ Shì) were rank titles. If (Tóng Jiǎ Shì) were comparable to Fighters, then (Yín Jiǎ Shì) must be similar to Battle Masters. The difference between a Fighter and a Battle Master was significant; in terms of raw strength, it was quite normal for a First-Level Battle Master to be more than twice as strong as a Ninth-Level Fighter. Doubled strength would naturally correspond to increased reaction speed, making their overall cultivation several times that of a Ninth-Level Fighter.
“Is (Jīn Jiǎ Shì) above (Yín Jiǎ Shì)?” Chen Feng asked, grasping the system.
“Correct! But the (Jīn Jiǎ Shì) are the temple guards within the Faith; their status is unreachably high, someone like us would never come into contact with them!” When White spoke of the (Jīn Jiǎ Shì), his face was filled with awe and reverence.
“ (Tóng Jiǎ Shì) cultivate strength; what do (Míng Shì) cultivate? And what levels are above them?” Chen Feng inquired further. It was clear this was not the continent he was familiar with. Though a flicker of panic arose, he quickly suppressed it; he first needed to understand the cultivation hierarchy to gauge his current strength. Without knowing his own standing, anyone would feel insecure in a strange new environment.
White looked at him, perhaps a little exasperated by his ‘ignorance,’ but reasoning that the man had amnesia, he continued explaining. “ (Míng Shì) cultivate spiritual energy to communicate with nature, then draw upon the power of nature to fight. Above the (Míng Shì) are (Míng Shī) and (Míng Zūn)—three levels corresponding to (Tóng Jiǎ Shì), (Yín Jiǎ Shì), and (Jīn Jiǎ Shì). However, a (Míng Shì) of the same level possesses considerably greater combat power than a (Tóng Jiǎ Shì) of the same rank.”
“I see,” Chen Feng mused. This (Míng Shì) sounded somewhat akin to a mage, but they used spiritual energy to commune with nature, borrowing its power. Natural power? Chen Feng paused. Wasn't this similar to the cultivation method in the Dragon Domain? If one could truly merge with and understand nature, it meant… one could borrow the might of Heaven and Earth, making it easier to comprehend the Laws of the Universe upon achieving godhood!
At this thought, Chen Feng felt a surge of excitement. Perhaps his arrival in this place was also guided by Elder Yan Long’s intention. Otherwise, what purpose did that magic array serve? How did he end up here by such coincidence? Although Chen Feng was unconscious, the memories remained vivid in his mind; he clearly recalled Yan Long fighting the Jin Xuan Hu and the sequence when he unleashed the Muga.
Seeing that Chen Feng seemed to grasp the concepts, White excitedly said, “Come, let’s test what level (Tóng Jiǎ Shì) you were. Based on my experience, you should be a Third-Level (Tóng Jiǎ Shì)!”
“How do I test?”
“That’s simple. Just try lifting the stone locks out there one by one! Your maximum lift will indicate your (Tóng Jiǎ Shì) level!” White chuckled.
Chen Feng agreed. With his current strength, he could lift any of those stone locks effortlessly. His physical power alone allowed him to defeat a Fifth-Level Battle Venerable, granting him hundreds of thousands, perhaps millions of jin of strength. These stone locks looked far too light to him. However, now that he was in an unfamiliar environment and hadn't encountered a (Míng Shì) yet, he couldn't reveal too much and draw unwanted attention. Thinking this, he walked toward the 600 jin lock, hooked it lightly with his foot, making it spring up, and caught it smoothly in his right hand as if grabbing a stalk of straw.
“600 jin! You really are a Third-Level (Tóng Jiǎ Shì)!” White exclaimed excitedly, then shouted, “Try the 800 jin lock next! You made 600 jin look too easy…”
Chen Feng muttered under his breath that all the locks here were easy, but he needed to maintain the act. He turned and walked toward the 800 jin lock. (To be continued. For future developments, please log on to m, for more chapters, support the author and legitimate reading!) First release.