To Qu Weichen, these rooms all looked the same, so she just picked the first one.
“The red one is the Martial Artist Awakening Potion, and the white ones are nutrient solutions inside bubble fruit.
If you feel your strength running out, just toss one in your mouth and bite down.” Constance gave a brief introduction to the two items. “Awakening as a martial artist is both simple and difficult.
The most important thing isn’t talent, but willpower.
After you drink the potion, your whole body will be tempered.
During this process, you have to stay conscious—if you pass out, the effect will disappear and the awakening will end.
There are nine rounds of tempering, but as long as you make it through the first round, you’ll officially step onto the path of a martial artist.”
“Will it hurt a lot?” Qu Weichen took out the red potion and gave it a gentle shake, noticing how thick and sticky the liquid was.
The bubble fruit looked just like little water balloons, with a thin white membrane that was soft and fragile, as if it would burst with just a little pressure.
It reminded Qu Weichen of the popping boba in milk tea from her previous life.
“Yes,” Constance replied.
“But it treats every life equally.”
“Can I start now?”
“Of course.
You can lie on the bed and keep the nutrient solution within reach.” Constance said, “Good luck.
I hope you can last a bit longer.”
The giant said this and then leaned against the entrance to the secret passage to wait.
After Qu Weichen sat on the bed with the potion in hand, Constance crossed her arms and said, “Maybe you need a little motivation or provocation? A lot of newbies want their guide to taunt them a bit before awakening.”
“No need, thanks.” Qu Weichen took a deep breath, the red potion in her hand both dangerous and alluring.
So this is the martial artist awakening? Pain? She put the metal box and six white bubbles on the iron table, sat on the edge of the bed, twisted open the potion, and felt an unprecedented calm.
She tilted her head back and drank it all in one go.
The potion was thick, so Qu Weichen waited a while to make sure she’d swallowed it all.
It tasted slightly bitter, but with a sweet aftertaste.
Qu Weichen sat quietly on the bed for a bit, and just as she started to wonder if the potion was a dud, a ball of fire exploded in her stomach! Hot? Burning? Qu Weichen collapsed onto the bed, curling up as the fire burned in her belly, then spread to her organs, and then to her limbs.
The fire came on strong—one second Qu Weichen was wondering why the potion hadn’t kicked in, and the next, the effect nearly made her pass out.
The burning sensation grew more intense, heat flooding her body.
If there had been a mirror in front of her, she would have seen her whole body turn red and hot in an instant, like a boiled shrimp.
But… was it really fire? In the midst of the pain, Qu Weichen struggled to reach out her hand and looked at her reddened palm—there was no sign of burns, but the pain was absolutely real.
Every inch of bone and every drop of blood was burning.
Qu Weichen rolled over to lie on her back, staring wide-eyed at the empty ceiling.
She thought, whoever designed this really didn’t care—at least draw something on the ceiling, or put a dot up there so people can distract themselves, right? Qu Weichen forced her eyes open, staring at the ceiling, and it was as if she saw blazing flames above her, wrapping around her, swallowing her whole.
There wasn’t a single part of her that didn’t hurt, not a single spot spared.
In that moment of sinking into pain and darkness, some memory was triggered in Qu Weichen.
The empty ceiling seemed to turn into a night of raging fire.
She couldn’t help but reach out, unable to grasp the blue flames, or the orange-red blaze—once again, she had nothing.
“Hah—” She convulsed and rolled on the bed, the fine liquid beading on her forehead not just sweat, but slowly pooling together until a drop of blood rolled down her face.
Veins bulged, and the frail Qu Weichen was tense and shaking all over, her body trembling uncontrollably.
She tried to control herself, but instinct lost out to the pain.
The fire spread from her belly, burning every corner of her body, then returned along her meridians to her abdomen.
Qu Weichen tried to stay calm, biting down hard and refusing to even cry out.
Because of this, she could clearly feel how the burning pain spread and then faded, and time dragged on endlessly.
When the fire finally retreated to her belly, Qu Weichen had a brief moment to catch her breath.
She raised her hand with effort to wipe the sweat from her forehead, only to find it stained with blood.
[Congratulations, host, you made it through the first round! Even though you see blood on your hand, this is normal.]
This… was only the first round? Qu Weichen felt a bit dazed, but she quickly remembered the six bubbles Constance had given her, and with effort, picked one up and bit into it.
Cool liquid quickly filled her mouth, and Qu Weichen swallowed it down.
The nutrient solution had no taste, but its coolness brought her a bit of relief.
Nine rounds of tempering—how many could she endure? Testing willpower, huh… No matter what her talent was as a martial artist, when it came to enduring pain… she couldn’t be that bad, right? The Hall Master had promised “five rounds of tempering,” but Qu Weichen couldn’t just set five as her ultimate goal.
When the burning pain came again, even though Qu Weichen was prepared, she still ended up rolling around in agony.
The pain was even worse than last time?—So the tempering got stronger with each round.
As the fire once again spread through her body, Qu Weichen, for some reason, thought of Sun Wukong being refined in Laozi’s furnace for forty-nine days.
Sun Wukong got his Fiery Golden Eyes from that—if she could make it through nine rounds of awakening as a martial artist… she’d have to unlock some kind of achievement, right?
…
Three hours later, Constance straightened up.
She looked at Qu Weichen, whose face was flushed and veins bulging, and her expression grew serious.
She carefully wrote in her notebook: “Endured three rounds of tempering.”
Making it through three rounds meant Qu Weichen could be considered a passable martial artist.
Another two hours passed.
Constance walked over to the metal rack, took down a wooden box, opened it, and took out some pale blue bubble nutrient solutions, placing them in Qu Weichen’s box.
This kind of nutrient solution was more valuable and expensive, made with rare herbs and tempered magical beast blood.
It could help people recover faster and strengthen their bodies.
—Anyone who made it to the sixth round of awakening deserved to use this.
By now, Qu Weichen didn’t even know what Constance was doing.
Her mind was getting fuzzy.
Burned and tempered by fire again and again, she felt like she was constantly on the edge of death, experiencing it over and over, always just a hair’s breadth away.
So many times she almost passed out from the pain, but forced herself to stay awake.
Now, her body wasn’t even using strength anymore—she was running on willpower alone.
When the fire faded and her body instinctively reached for a bubble to bite, a sweet, medicinal flavor hit her tongue.
Qu Weichen became a little more alert and looked at the box, noticing the nutrient solution had changed color.
But before she could be curious, the fire exploded again! —Even the breaks between rounds were getting shorter.
Dying and coming back? Getting whipped over and over? Jumping back and forth between life and death? Qu Weichen didn’t know how to describe her current state.
She could only joke to herself: as a necromancer, having this kind of experience… at least she’d have something to talk about with any intelligent skeletons she summoned in the future.
When the eighth round started, Qu Weichen was completely done for.
She tried to open her eyes, but it was pointless.
Or rather, her mind was trying to keep her awake, eyes open, enduring the pain, but she wasn’t sure if her body was actually following through.
The eighth round… Actually, even if she passed out now, it wouldn’t be a big deal, right? After all, the Hall Master said five rounds was enough… Is it really possible to make it through all nine? She was already, she was already…
People are strange—when you’re suffering but your will is strong, the buffs don’t feel that obvious.
But the moment you think “maybe I can give up,” the pain, exhaustion, and helplessness all get magnified a hundred times.
“No, I can’t—” She’d already made it to the eighth round, how could she give up now? Wouldn’t all the pain she’d endured so far be wasted? A necromancer needs a long time to develop, and skill points and potential points aren’t easy to get.
She had to show enough value and potential… It’s just a little pain, Qu Weichen, don’t forget what happened that night! Compared to the pain in her body and soul, watching someone close to her die and being powerless to help was even worse.
Never again.
Strength, power—if sheer willpower could get her through nine rounds of tempering, then why couldn’t she keep going!
Number Nine was no help at all right now, and Qu Weichen’s skills were useless for this awakening.
She wasn’t strong to begin with, much weaker than Constance, but even so, she could still summon up a stubborn, unyielding will to fight the pain.
[Hang in there.] Number Nine couldn’t help but encourage her.
It could feel its host’s pain and struggle.
Martial artist awakening was always a painful tempering process.
The first few rounds were okay, but after about six, it was all about willpower.
[Maybe there really is an achievement for nine rounds of tempering! Host, hang in there.] Even though martial artist awakening didn’t help a necromancer much and wasn’t part of Number Nine’s service, seeing its host’s pure will in the face of tempering, even it was moved.
But as the eighth round of tempering drew to a close, Qu Weichen’s will was starting to fall apart.
