Chapter 7: The Mo-Dao Infantry (Please Add to Favorites)

“This game has two types of scenarios. One is what we’re in now—a world you can only enter once, without the ability to reset or farm endlessly. The other is called a dungeon; after you clear out all the opponents and leave, you can reenter and start from the beginning again.

You can grind dungeons as much as you want, and even if you die inside, it doesn’t matter—you simply leave and reenter. But the world is different. If you die here, it’s as if this world has closed its doors to you forever. Unless, in the future, you reach the Great Luo level and reincarnate, sending a projection or avatar back into this world, you’ll have no further involvement with its development or anything it contains.

So, in this world, do everything you can not to die. Who knows—one day you might get stuck and need something from this place. I remember a friend who was too reckless, never cared about his own survival, and never made it past the third chapter in any world. Once, he died in a world that turned out to be the beginning of Journey to the West. In the end, he couldn’t participate in that plotline and was permanently about thirty percent weaker than everyone else.

While listening to Niu Xuanguang’s explanation, Wang Liang quietly memorized all the unfamiliar knowledge he heard, planning to look for books to study when he had time. For now, he decided to play the role of the serious, clueless newcomer who didn’t get the jokes and wouldn’t try to make any.

Perhaps Wang Liang’s act was convincing enough, because Niu Xuanguang seemed to accept it as his natural personality and the earlier awkwardness faded away. Their attention returned to Wei Ban.

Zhao Gongming was pacing around Wei Ban with a compass, muttering, “Don’t worry, we’ve got time. Using aura observation, I saw a team moving toward us from the west. Judging by their speed, it’ll take at least seven hours for them to reach us.

So we still have some time.”

“I know, but could you please move further away? You’re in my way,” Wei Ban replied, well aware of his companion’s personality, and shooed him off without hesitation.

From a distance, Wang Liang watched as Wei Ban, seemingly out of nowhere, produced a massive log and began crafting something with simple carpentry tools—an axe, a saw, and so on.

Wang Liang’s confusion was picked up by the two young women. They approached him, and the one with the skull motif asked curiously, “Are you really a total newbie? So new you haven’t even opened your inventory?”

“Inventory?” Wang Liang thought for a moment, then shook his head.

“Then you haven’t even opened your newbie pack! Do as I say: concentrate and think ‘inventory’—see if you have twenty slots. Do you see the gift box? Take it out and let’s see how lucky you are.” The tearful girl looked excited.

Following their instructions, Wang Liang opened a panel in front of him. Inside were twenty empty slots, each apparently able to hold quite a lot. In the first slot was a box tied with colorful ribbons.

Wang Liang reached in and took out the box.

The two young women crowded around, urging, “Quick, open it! Usually there’s a weapon and either an artifact or a manual inside. Let’s see what you get.”

Wang Liang reached into the box, and his expression immediately grew serious. His fingers closed around a handle. With a swift pull, he drew out a long, unusually shaped saber.

The saber was three meters long in total, with a peachwood hilt a full meter and a half in length, weighted toward the back—perfect for gripping with both hands, one forward and one back, for powerful swings. The blade itself was a meter and a half long, a Persian-style curved sword, large and shaped like a drawn bow. The blade was thin and light, designed so that air resistance wouldn’t affect its swing.

Between the blade and the hilt was an integrated crossguard, adorned with inlaid iron, silver, and gilded patterns of scrolling flora. Amidst these designs was a single, blood-red character: “Life.”

The blade’s surface was covered in layered, flowing patterns, as elegant and fluid as drifting clouds—distinctive of crucible-forged wootz steel.

When Wang Liang drew the sword, he gripped the end of the hilt with his left hand, set his right just behind the crossguard, and made a swinging motion. As the familiar whistle of the blade slicing the air sounded, a faint smile appeared on his face.

He recognized this saber. It was the very sword he’d used to slay bandit cavalry years ago, custom-forged by a Persian slave, and the character for “life” had been carved by his own hand.

But now, the sword had changed; as he drew it, attributes appeared alongside it.

[Saber of Life (Mo Dao)]
[Quality: Blue]
[Attack: 15-33]
[Requirements: Strength 6, Agility 4, Constitution 5]
[Feature 1: Windbreaker—The thin blade can slice through the wind itself, let alone heavy armor. The edge always finds the weakest point in enemy armor (enemy defense -15%).]
[Feature 2: Bleeding—The wootz steel pattern tears open wounds that heal poorly and cause continuous bleeding (bleed effect lasts 15 seconds).]
[Feature 3: Sundering—When the user’s Strength exceeds 5, direct confrontation with cavalry charges has a chance to shatter the enemy with a single blow (execution chance +20%).]
[Note: A weapon personally forged by the player. Requirements scale with player attributes.]

Everyone was stunned as they watched Wang Liang effortlessly swing and slash with the saber. Niu Xuanguang studied him up and down.

“You know how to use a Mo Dao?”

“I do. I’ve mastered it,” Wang Liang replied directly, without any false modesty.

Everyone fell silent. They were all seasoned players, and knew how much time and effort it took to progress from novice to proficient and then to mastery. Even now, each of them had only mastered one skill. None expected Wang Liang to have mastered such a difficult weapon as the Mo Dao.

“How did you do it?” Even Wei Ban, who usually didn’t get along with Wang Liang, asked, “I mean, how did you master the Mo Dao?”

“On a battlefield where death was certain, if you kill thousands of mounted bandits with a Mo Dao, anyone could master it.”

Wang Liang spoke indifferently, but his words clearly struck a chord with the others.

After a long pause, Niu Xuanguang said, “So you’re a military seed. Our luck really is good.”

Wang Liang still didn’t quite understand the implication, so he just smiled and said nothing, reaching into the gift pack again.

“What’s this?” Wang Liang drew out a purple jade tablet, only palm-sized, etched with special cloud patterns. In the center of these patterns, on both sides of the jade, were two characters:

“Glow” and “Poison.”