Forlorn Battlefield

Fang Yuan dreamt of a battlefield.

Fang Yuan awoke to the stench of death.

[Aspirant! Welcome to the Nightmare Spell. Prepare for your First Trial…]

The ground beneath him was cold and damp, saturated with blood and decay. His head pounded as if he had been struck, and his muscles ached as though he had been fighting for days. Groaning, he forced himself upright, the sharp sting of pain running through his body grounding him in this foreign world. Around him, a bleak battlefield stretched into the horizon, filled with the corpses of soldiers, some still broken weapons, their faces twisted in their final moments of terror.

Fang Yuan scanned his surroundings with cold detachment, his sharp eyes taking in every detail. The battlefield was vast, a wasteland littered with death. Smashed war machines and shattered weapons were scattered among the dead, remnants of a conflict long over. Smoke from distant fires coiled into the red-tinged sky like the last breath of the dying.

But worse than the dead were the creatures that crawled among them.

They moved like shadows, grotesque and unnatural, their gaunt forms hunched over the bodies of the fallen. They tore into the flesh with hunger, their jagged teeth gleaming in the dim light. Their eyes, glowing faintly in the twilight, reflected a primal hunger—carrion eaters, drawn to the scent of blood and the feast laid before them.

Fang Yuan's breath slowed as he watched the creatures devour the dead. His mind sharpened, calculating. He didn't know why he had been brought to this place, but one thing was certain: this was no ordinary battlefield. This was his trial. A nightmare.

A single thought pulsed through his mind, clear and undeniable: Conquer the nightmare.

But how would he do it? How was he to conquer this? He had no answers, only the growing certainty that survival was just the beginning. He needed to find a way out, and soon. His sharp instincts—honed through countless battles in his previous life—told him that the longer he stayed, the greater the danger.

A sudden shift in the air drew his attention. One of the carrion eaters lifted its head, sniffing the air. Its glowing eyes locked onto Fang Yuan, its mouth opening in a low, guttural hiss.

It had sensed him.

Without hesitation, Fang Yuan rose to his feet, his muscles tensing for action. The carrion eater let out a screech, and the others immediately turned their attention to him. The creatures began to move, slinking toward him, their hunger now focused on fresh prey.

Fang Yuan's eyes darted around the battlefield. There were no weapons near him, only broken swords and shattered spears, useless remnants of the dead. His gaze settled on a distant structure, barely visible through the haze—a temple, standing atop a hill at the far end of the battlefield. Its black stone walls rose above the carnage like a beacon, ancient and imposing.

If there was any place to survive this, it was there.

The carrion eaters were closing in, their movements erratic and predatory. Fang Yuan could feel their eyes on him, their hunger palpable in the air. He had no choice but to fight his way through. With swift precision, he grabbed the broken shaft of a spear from the ground and gripped it tightly. It wasn't much, but it would have to do.

The first creature lunged, its claws outstretched. Fang Yuan sidestepped, driving the broken spear into its chest. The beast let out a shriek as black blood poured from the wound, but it didn't fall. Instead, it lashed out with its claws, forcing Fang Yuan to twist away. He wrenched the spear free and slammed it down again, this time piercing the creature's skull. It collapsed in a heap, twitching as life drained from its twisted body.

But there were more. The carrion eaters swarmed toward him, drawn by the scent of blood and the thrill of the hunt. Fang Yuan's mind worked quickly, assessing the odds. He couldn't fight them all, not like this. He needed to reach the temple.

With a swift burst of energy, he sprinted toward the hill, dodging the creatures as they lunged at him. His movements were fluid, almost instinctual, honed from years of survival in his previous life. But the weight of exhaustion was already creeping into his limbs, slowing him down as the creatures pursued him relentlessly.

The hill loomed before him, and the temple, ancient and foreboding, stood at its peak. Fang Yuan could feel something emanating from it—a presence, an aura of power that seemed to beckon him. He had no choice but to trust his instincts. Whatever awaited him in that temple was his only hope.

The carrion eaters were closing in. Fang Yuan could hear their guttural growls, feel their foul breath on the back of his neck. He pushed himself harder, his legs burning with effort as he climbed the hill. The creatures howled in frustration as he reached the base of the temple stairs, their claws raking the ground in fury.

With a final, desperate effort, Fang Yuan reached the top of the stairs and threw himself through the temple's entrance. The moment he crossed the threshold, the heavy stone doors slammed shut behind him, sealing him inside.

For a moment, there was only silence. Fang Yuan leaned against the cold stone wall, catching his breath. His body was shaking with exhaustion, his wounds stinging from the fight, but he had made it. He had survived.

But the trial was far from over.

The air inside the temple was thick, almost suffocating. The walls were lined with ancient carvings, depicting scenes of war and chaos—battles fought by gods and mortals alike. At the far end of the room, a massive statue loomed, standing tall and imposing. It was the figure of a goddess, her face obscured by a helmet, her posture regal and commanding. Her hands rested on the hilt of a sword, the blade gleaming faintly in the dim light.

"The war god!" Fang Yuan made a guess, but he was certain. He knows the gods of the dream realm. He also knows-

"A dead god!"

At her feet, resting neatly on a stone pedestal, was a sword—an ancient blade that seemed untouched by time, its surface etched with intricate runes. It was a weapon of power, waiting for someone worthy to claim it.

Fang Yuan decided to look at his runes before anything else.

***

Name: Fang Yuan

True Name: —

Rank: Aspirant.

Soul Core: Dormant.

Memories: —

Echoes: —

Attributes: [Perseverance], [Spark of Divinity], [Monolith],[Fate Breaker], [Reincarnator].

Aspect: [Struggler].

Aspect Rank: Dormant.

Aspect Description: [You're just an insignificant being struggling for an unreachable goal. What can you even accomplish?]

"What are the attribute details?"

[Perseverance]

Attribute Description: [A monk who can endure everything and a demon who will do anything for his dream.]

[Spark of Divinity]

Attribute Description: [Every fire starts from a spark. Somewhere deep within your soul, a radiant spark shines with divine light.]

[Monolith]

Attribute Description: [Will as strong as an ancient monolith. Only you, yourself can change your mind. Gives immunity against mental attacks.]

[Fate Breaker]

Attribute Description: [You have once broken fate.]

[Reincarnator]

Attribute Description: [You have the experience, memory and knowledge of your previous life.]

Fang Yuan approached the statue cautiously, his eyes fixed on the sword. He could feel the energy radiating from it, a pulse of power that seemed to resonate deep within him. This was no ordinary weapon. This was a relic of the war goddess, a blade forged in the fires of struggle and death. It was a symbol of war and life, of conquest and survival.

He reached out, his fingers brushing the hilt of the sword. The moment his hand closed around it, the air in the temple shifted. A low hum filled the chamber, vibrating through the stone walls. The sword physical trembled, glowing with a otherworldly aura.

A voice whispered in Fang Yuan's ears, cold and commanding.

"You who seek to conquer me, prove your worth. War is not simply the battle of flesh—it is the struggle for life itself. Only those who understand the truth of both will be granted the strength to survive."

Fang Yuan's grip tightened on the sword. The ground beneath his feet trembled, and the temple walls began to shift. The carvings on the walls came alive, the figures of warriors and gods moving as if they were real, their weapons clashing in eternal combat. The temple was transforming, becoming a battleground once more.

Fang Yuan stood in the center of it all, the sword gleaming in his hand. His heart pounded in his chest, but his mind was calm. He had been given a weapon, a purpose, and a trial to overcome.

And he would conquer it.

As the nightmare unfolded around him, Fang Yuan raised the sword, his eyes burning with determination. This was only the beginning. Whatever awaited him in this new world—whatever nightmares lay ahead—he would face them with the same cold, ruthless will that had defined him in his past life.

The dead war goddess had given him a challenge. And Fang Yuan would rise to meet it.