Zhao Meng's voice echoed in the darkness, laced with confusion and a hint of panic. "Where am I?" he asked, As his eyes adjusted to the dim surroundings, he realized he had become a meticulously crafted statue of a six-armed deity. The blood red wood from which it was carved seemed to pulse with a life of its own, with its vibrant, eerie energy.
A shiver ran down his spine as he grappled with the truth: he had become a wooden statue. "Didn't I die?" He asked himself in bewilderment.
Suddenly, a crimson holographic screen flickered to life before him, jarring him out of his thoughts. A status display stared back, its neon glow casting an otherworldly light on his wooden confines:
[True name: Vraja Blood Heart Deity]
[Divinity Rank: Tier 1]
[Followers: 0]
[Divine Abilities]:
[Vraja Blood Heart divinity embryo ]: The origin of blood, capable of creating a Vraja heart which produces blood infused with the Dao of blood .
[Divine Vraja Palm Arts]: Martial arts of the Vraja Blood Heart, channeling the essence of blood to transform the hands into unstoppable weapons of destruction.
[Rewards: 1]
Zhao Meng's mind reeled as he pieced together the fragments. Reincarnation. A deity statue. A game-like interface. His gaze landed on the last line – Rewards – and the screen shifted, revealing a gift box icon and the words:
[Beginner Gift Box]
His eyes narrowed, anticipation kindling within him. What lay within this box?
Zhao Meng's voice was firm as he commanded, "Open the box," his eyes locked onto the holographic screen. The display shifted, and a notification appeared:
[Reward obtained]
[Blood-Heart Vraja Tempering scripture]: Allows mortals to condense a weaker version of the Vraja Blood Heart. It can be cultivated until the Celestial rank.
He stared at the reward, a mix of confusion and uncertainty etched on his face. Without a frame of reference, he couldn't decide if it was a blessing or a curse. "We'll deal with that later…" he muttered, his gaze drifting to the obsidian walls that encased him like a coffin. The strange, symbols etched into the surface seemed to pulse with an otherworldly energy, mocking his confinement.
A determination sparked within him. "I have to find a way to get out of here… maybe this will work," he said, his voice low and resolute. With a thought, he activated the [Divine Vraja Palm Arts]. Crimson aura erupted from his six arms, casting an eerie glow on the dark walls. Feeling the power coursing through him, he swung his arms, striking the wall with all his strength.
Bang! Bang! Bang!…
Zhao Meng's determination didn't waver, despite using the [Divine Vraja palm Arts] at full strength, the wall stood unbroken. "Let's try again," he growled, his arms swinging in relentless fury. Strike after strike landed, the impacts echoing through the chamber, but the wall refused to yield. The symbols, however, began to fade slightly after more than a hundred blows.
"This is gonna take a while, might as well go all out," he muttered, activating the [Vraja Blood Heart]. The void fell silent, then a deep, resonant thump echoed through the space – the sound of a heartbeat, strong and primal. Zhao Meng felt a heart materialize in his wooden chest, pulsing with life.
Then came the second heartbeat, and with it blood vessels burst forth from the heart, spreading like a network of crimson veins through his wooden limbs. Then the third beat unleashed a torrent of blood, gushing through the vessels until they couldn't contain it. Wood cracked, vessels burst, and blood erupted like a crimson waterfall, pooling at his feet.
Zhao Meng stared at the continuously growing pool. "I can't keep this up for long," he said.
With blood gushing from his ruptured wooden body, Zhao Meng felt a surge of raw power. His six arms blazed with a deep, blood-red flame, the crimson aura amplified to an inferno. Drawing on the primal energy coursing through him, he struck the wall once more.
His fury coalesced into six precise points, and he unleashed the full might of the [Divine Vraja Palm Arts]. The wall shuddered under the onslaught, the symbols flaring in alarm as his burning hands collided with the obsidian surface.
The impact sent cracks spiderwebbing through the wall, the sound like thunder in the chamber.
..…
On the dusty road winding towards, White City the main city of Southern province, in the Celestial Sword Kingdom, a humble carriage creaked along, pulled by a plodding donkey. The vehicle was piled high with furniture and crates, the belongings of a young couple starting anew.
The woman, with her average features, brown hair, and warm eyes, gazed ahead, her brown cotton dress rumpled from the journey. Beside her, the man – strong-jawed and brown-haired – pointed excitedly.
"I see the city," he said, a grin spreading across his face.
The woman's eyes lit up. "Finally… what kind of house did you buy?"
The man's chest puffed slightly. "It has four bedrooms and a small courtyard. It's also near the market – we'll be set."
The woman smiled, a quiet contentment settling over her features as the city drew closer.
As they navigated the labyrinthine roads of White City, the couple finally stopped in front of a two-story house, its white bricks blending seamlessly with the surrounding architecture. "We're here," Fan Mo said, offering his wife, Shui, a hand down from the carriage.
The afternoon sun cast long shadows as they unloaded their belongings. Amidst the bustle, Shui stumbled upon a mysterious black box adorned with golden symbols, its surface seeming to absorb the light around it. She carried it inside, where Fan Mo was arranging the furniture with care.
"Fan Mo… what is this?" she asked, placing the box on the table, her eyes locked on the intricate patterns etched into its surface.
Fan Mo's expression turned thoughtful. "It's a family heirloom. Supposedly we've had it for generations."
Shui's curiosity piqued, she asked, "What's inside?"
A hint of frustration crept into Fan Mo's voice. "I don't know, it's impossible to open… I've tried every trick I know."
Shui took the box, her fingers tracing the symbols as she searched for a hidden latch or seam. As she held it, the golden symbols sprang to life, glowing softly. "What did you do?" Fan Mo asked, taken aback – he had never seen the box react like this.
A sly smile played on Shui's lips. "Maybe it deemed me worthy." But the glow faded as quickly as it began, leaving her confused.
"Why are they dimming again?" she asked, her brow furrowed in puzzlement.
As the symbols lost their power, hairline cracks appeared, and a slow trickle of blood seeped from the fissures. "Put it down, Shui," Fan Mo said sharply, snatching the box from her hands. He placed it on the table and pulled her away, his eyes fixed on the ominous object.
The cracks spread, blood oozing faster, until with a deafening Bang!!! the box exploded, painting the room crimson. Amidst the chaos, a one-meter-tall statue emerged, sitting cross-legged on the table – a six-armed deity, masterfully crafted from crimson wood, its wooden eyes seeming to watch them with an unblinking gaze.