There was something poetic about dying in the rain.
The blood washed off too quickly. The pain dulled as the body went cold. The thunder masked your last cries, as if the heavens were too embarrassed to listen.
Lin Ren lay face-down on the shattered stone steps of the Azure Cloud Sect — or as he now preferred to call it, The Royal Pavilion of Backstabbing Bastards. His blood pooled beneath him, mixing with the rainwater like cheap ink soaking into parchment.
"Is this it?" he rasped, smiling through broken teeth. "I thought betrayal would feel more dramatic. Turns out it's just cold and wet."
His heart had stopped twice already. The blade wound across his back burned less than the laughter of his former brothers ringing in his ears. They had stripped him of everything — his position, his techniques, his name — and left him to rot in the sect he once bled for.
Thunder cracked. Lightning lit the sky in a vulgar burst, like nature mocking his last breath.
And that's when it happened.
The wound on his chest pulsed. Not with pain, but with a low, vibrating hum — a whisper in his bones. His vision blurred, not from blood loss, but from something else crawling through his veins.
Nanobots…
The artifact he had stolen from the Forbidden Vault — a shard of old-world tech rumored to be cursed — was activating. The last thing he remembered before passing out was jamming it into his chest like a lunatic. It had melted into his skin like mercury, disappearing into his bloodstream.
Now it spoke. Not with words, but with data. Numbers. Code. Systems.
---
> [ACTIVATION COMPLETE]
Host vitals critical. Initiating emergency override.
Implanting auxiliary consciousness: [Project: Ascendant Warlord]
Uploading archived martial data...
Binding Neural Pathway to: Li Wusheng — The Forgotten Blade
Possession Initiated.
---
The pain returned tenfold.
Lin Ren's body arched violently, bones snapping and resetting. His eyes rolled back, and for a moment, a second voice rang in his skull — deep, wrathful, yet dignified.
> "So... the clan still births cowards who play with forbidden toys."
Lin Ren gasped, "Who the hell are you—?"
> "I am Li Wusheng, First Blade of the Ironblood Lin Clan. Exiled. Murdered. Forgotten. And now... very annoyed to be sharing a body with a lunatic like you."
"Oh, perfect," Lin Ren wheezed, coughing up blood. "A ghost grandpa with a grudge. Exactly what I needed."
> "Your wounds are mortal. But your will is feral. I can work with that."
The ancestor's presence flooded him like fire. Ancient memories not his own began to force themselves into Lin Ren's brain — visions of wars, techniques, duels fought under burning skies.
Then the system spoke again.
---
> [Martial Integration Detected]
User's neural matrix adapting martial input.
Skill Created: Ghoststep: First Movement
Status: Enhanced via nanobot optimization.
Trait Unlocked: Adaptive Evolution – Combat
Condition: Near-death survival + ancestral martial fusion
---
"Wait… I just made a new technique by almost dying?" Lin Ren coughed. "That's hilarious. I should try dying more often."
> "You already look like a corpse," the inner demon chimed in — a new voice, colder, gentler. Almost motherly.
"Let me out and I'll handle the rest."
"No offense, but I don't take help from voices that sound like my dead childhood nightmares."
> "You talk to yourself a lot," Li Wusheng muttered.
"You're all me, grandpa," Lin Ren grinned darkly, rising slowly. "Just more polite parts I haven't murdered yet."
His bones cracked, muscles tore and reknitted. His back straightened. He stood. The rain didn't seem so heavy anymore.
---
Back at the Sect Gates
Elder Han and his disciples were already halfway down the path, laughing over wine skins.
"I told you," Han chuckled. "That runt was too soft. Couldn't even handle the betrayal properly. A shame. His mother begged me to spare him."
Suddenly, a ripple of killing intent swept over them like a blade slicing air.
"Wait... do you feel that?" one disciple said, paling.
And then a figure appeared.
Limping. Bloodied. Laughing like he'd just heard the funniest joke in history.
"You know," Lin Ren called out, voice loud and crisp, "if I had a copper for every backstab, I'd be the richest pincushion in the realm."
They froze.
"That's... impossible," one muttered.
Han narrowed his eyes. "No. That's not Lin Ren. He's... changed."
"Changed?" Lin Ren tilted his head, a gleam in his eyes. "I'm still me. Just better. Stronger. And slightly more homicidal."
He stepped forward, and the air distorted around his footwork.
---
> [Skill Activated: Ghoststep: First Movement]
Enhancements:
Muscle Boost (142%)
Precision Lock-On
Afterimage Trail
"Now generating predictive kill-path…"
---
Lin Ren vanished.
He appeared behind the first disciple before the man even turned, whispering in his ear:
"Boo."
Then he sliced his throat.
One down.
"Elder Han," Lin Ren called sweetly, "guess what I've got that you don't?"
Han gritted his teeth. "Insanity?"
Lin Ren grinned wider. "A cheat code."
---
Moments Later
Bodies littered the path. Lin Ren leaned against a tree, catching his breath, eyes wide and smiling.
> "You butchered them like cattle," the inner demon said.
"And you didn't even use my power."
"I'm saving you for dessert," Lin Ren chuckled.
> "You need restraint. These emotions will consume—"
"Please," Lin Ren said, flicking blood off his sword. "If I let myself go, the heavens might finally find me entertaining. Don't spoil the show."
> "You are… unstable," Li Wusheng said from within.
"Yet effective."
"Effective madness is still madness," Lin Ren whispered. "But it's mine. And that's all I need."
He looked up at the broken gates of his former sect.
"Time to knock."
---
To Be Continued...