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Sword's Chosen - Cultivation, LitRPG

This is my attempt at fusing the genres of litrpg and cultivation, I hope you like it. - For Aodh, every day is a bad day. Get up, go to class, avoid talking to other people, go home, fall asleep and repeat. However, on a seemingly normal day, Aodh is somehow transported to a strange forest, with only one goal given to him: survive. With quick thinking, and mysterious skill with a sword, Aodh has to do just that, until he can figure out what's going on, and what the strange words floating in the air mean. - Also being published on Royal Road.

MrTemplar · Fantasie
Zu wenig Bewertungen
4 Chs

Chapter 2 - The Sword

Aodh groaned as he woke up, and ran his hand over his drowsy eyes. Woah. That was a crazy dream. He reached out his hand, intending to grab his phone, but swiftly pulled his hand back when he felt a wet mush. "What the…" he mumbled as he rolled over. Is this Vincent playing some sort of weird prank? After he rolled over his eyes went wide with shock. 

This is not my dorm. As far as his eyes could see, there were trees stretching out into the distance, and the floor was covered with dead leaves. He quickly whipped his head around, taking in the environment. "What the fuck?" Aodh didn't usually curse but he felt the situation warranted it. He was lying on a forest floor, water from the ground beginning to soak into his clothes. He got to his feet, any remains of tiredness long gone. 

He brushed the leaves from his back and trousers, and surveyed the area. This looks vaguely like the forest a few minutes drive away from campus. However unlikely it is, Vincent could have dropped me here as a joke. Although, how would he do it without me noticing? The last thing Aodh remembered was going face first into the wall of the lift. Absent-mindedly, he rubbed his face. Was I knocked out or something?

Just before he started walking, a loud ding resounded in his ear, causing him to flinch. He looked around, eyes desperately searching for the source of the sound. What he did see was a blue panel, similar to the one in the lift hanging in the air. 

[You have made it to the tutorial. It will last six months. Your only goal is to survive.]

As Aodh read the information, it sparked a memory in his mind. The panel that he saw in the lift said something similar. He strained his memory, trying to remember what he read. Maybe I have a concussion? Aodh could barely remember that he saw something about being moved to a tutorial, but the full memory stubbornly eluded his grasp. This is like something out of a Sci-Fi movie. 

Then the full reality of what the new screen said hit him. Survive? What does it mean to survive? Aodh felt a cold chill roll down his back, and his eyes darted around. He felt like he was being watched. "Vincent, it's not funny, you can come out now." There was no response. "Vincent, seriously." Aodh started to get a weird sensation in his stomach. There was still no response. What the-

His thoughts were interrupted as something slammed into his back, sending him flying face first down into the leaves. He quickly rolled over, spluttering as he tried to remove the leaves that found their way into his mouth. What he saw made him feel like a bucket of ice cold water had been poured over him. Standing in front of him was what could only be described as some sort of creature. 

It was about one metre tall, with thin limbs, and was wearing a sort of clothing made with fur. "Holy shit," Aodh exclaimed. I have to be dreaming. The creature's skin was deathly pale, and its eyes were sunken in its misshapen head. And craziest of all, it was holding a sword. In a sudden burst of movement, the sword was impaling the ground next to Aodh's right hand. What the fuck?  

Aodh didn't know how to react to what was happening. He could feel his heart beating furiously as it pumped adrenaline around his body. It almost felt like his body was humming. As the creature took a step, Aodh did the first thing he could think of; he grabbed the hilt of the sword, yanked it out of the ground and swung. The creature stopped back, fluidly dodging the attack. 

As the creature was moving backwards, Aodh scrambled to his feet, the sword clenched in his fist. Without thinking about what he was doing or why he was doing it, he stopped forward, planted his feet and swung, aiming for the creature's head. Again, it was easily dodged, and Aodh was put off balance from the swing. In a white blur, the creature appeared below Aodh's arms, still outstretched from the attack, and punched him in the middle of his chest. 

Aodh could hear a crack, and there was an outburst of pain as he was pushed backwards from the power of the punch. How is this thing so strong? Its arms are matchsticks. Aodh swung with the sword again, catching the creature's hand as it pulled it back. Aodh could feel a small vibration travel through the blade and the creature retreated, cradling its left hand to its chest. 

Aodh noticed a small white worm flying through the air, and felt the intense need to vomit when he realised it was the creature's fingers, severed by his attack. As time went on, he was growing more sure it was not a dream. He turned his head over to the side and retched, as a shiver travelled through his body. He heard a small noise, and turned just in time to duck his head, as the fist of the creature whistled through the air. 

Somehow recognising the opportunity, he swung up with the sword, angling it towards the creature's shoulder. He could feel the impact through the blade as it was lodged into the shoulder joint, causing the creature to suddenly jerk backwards. Unprepared for the sudden movement, the sword was almost yanked out of Aodh's hand, only his grip, fueled by panic and fear prevented it. 

The sword came loose from the creature with a sickening sound, and yellow blood sprayed from the open wound. Aodh could feel some drops land on his exposed face and arms, and could see the strangely coloured blood start to bubble. As the creature was still recovering, Aodh attempted to wipe away the acidic liquid with his free hand, but only succeeded in spreading it around, causing himself more pain. I need water or something. 

Noticing that the creature was swaying around and looked unsteady, Aodh moved in as he swung the sword from over his head. With a thud, it lodged in the creature's head, and it fell to the ground, limp. Aodh watched it fall, releasing his grip on the sword. Despite the adrenaline rushing through his body, he felt numb. He shakily walked over to a tree, and sat down, resting his back against the trunk. 

He took slow, deep breaths, attempting to calm himself. I have no idea what just happened. Impulsively, he slapped himself across the face in one last attempt to prove that it was a dream. When nothing happened and he was left where he was, staring at the corpse of the creature, yellow blood pooling around his head, he was forced to accept the fact that what he had experienced was real. 

If that's real, I've just killed something. Whatever that 'something' was. Despite it being all but confirmed that what he had just done was real, Aodh was worried at the noticeable lack of feeling as he watched the blood continue to exit the dead body. I've killed something. Shouldn't I be sad or something? Instead of any feeling, Aodh felt like everything was numb, like all of his emotions and feelings were encased in ice. 

The only revulsion he felt was because of how graphic it was when he chopped off the creature's fingers, and when he stuck the sword into its skull. There was no feeling of remorse for killing another living thing. This feels wrong, to not even have the slightest sliver of guilt. I've just killed something and I feel…nothing. 

Out of the corner of his eye, Aodh saw a blue screen appear, slightly casting everything in a blue glow. He dragged his eyes away from the corpse and read what was on it. 

[Congratulations! Based on your recent actions, you have been chosen for Path of The Sword.]

"What?" Aodh reached out his hand, but it just passed through the writing floating in the air. I really need to try and figure out what's going on. Almost like mist being blown away to reveal a mountain, Aodh could remember what the screen in the lift said. He sighed. I have no idea what a System Integration is. My best guess is that it's something to do with these screens that keep appearing. As for Energy, I couldn't even make a guess. I also have no idea what changes will be happening to earth. This lack of information is frustrating. At this point, Aodh had accepted that he was not on earth. 

This is obviously the tutorial, and I'm stuck here for six months. The wording of the message was ominous. It told me to survive, which would imply this is a fairly dangerous place. I've already been attacked by… something so I think it's safe to assume that will be a normal occurrence. Aodh looked over at the sword, standing upright buried in the head of the creature that attacked him. 

I have no idea what a Path is, but it's probably related to me killing that thing with a sword. I'm guessing that was my recent action. Aodh sighed as he looked at the corpse. He knew he would have to retrieve the sword at some point if he wanted to survive in this place. May as well do it now. I don't know when another of those creatures could appear. 

As he heaved himself to his feet, Aodh thought about how easily he was taking the sudden change. This definitely doesn't feel natural. Normally I would be screaming, not even able to form coherent thoughts, and definitely when I'm not in the middle of a fight. I wonder does whatever put me here want me to survive? The System or whatever it's called. I guess there's no point worrying about it for the moment. 

Aodh walked over to the corpse, and with a grimace, pulled the sword from the creature's skull, taking with it plenty of the acidic blood and brain matter. He retched again, and rubbed the sword in the leaves on the ground, cleaning it as best he could. As an afterthought, he searched the creature's garments for pockets, but he found nothing. He looked at the fur clothes, wondering if he could get any use out of them. 

Ultimately, he decided they were too small, and he wasn't willing to use clothes from something he had murdered. It just felt wrong. Also, if there was any blood on the interior of the clothes it could pose a problem for him. Oh yeah, my hands. Aodh looked down at his arms and hand that had been sprayed with the blood, forgotten after the battle. 

When he saw what they looked like, he winced. Where there was once smooth, clear skin, there was now a multitude of scars that had formed wherever the blood had touched. Wait, scars? How are they scarred already? I just finished fighting a few minutes ago. They should still be bleeding. Aodh stared in disbelief at his arms. There was nothing he could think of to explain what he was seeing. That must be why I wasn't feeling any pain, they had already healed. 

Suddenly, a strange thought formed in Aodhs head. He went back over to the corpse and cleaned the blade as best he could in the furs, then held out his hand, palm pointing straight up. He took a deep breath in, then swiftly drew the blade of the sword across his palm, cutting himself. He winced a bit at the sting, and hoped he wouldn't get an infection from whatever remained on the blade. 

He stared at his palm for a few minutes, as the blood trickled from the wound. Nothing was happening. Maybe my theory was wrong? It was probably silly to expect it to work that way. Just because everything else has gone strange doesn't mean… Aodh's thoughts trailed off as he saw the blood coming from the wound dry up and the skin move back together. Aodhs jaw dropped as he stared at the faint, silvery line left on his palm, the cut nowhere to be seen.