Chapter 94: Samadhi (Part One)

The young man charged into the swarm of rats like a tiger among wolves, felling one with each swing of his sword. His movements were clearly faster than those of the rodents; their bristling attacks never came close to grazing even the hem of his clothing. Whenever it seemed he might be surrounded, he would simply retreat a step to the edge of the circle, instantly breaking the rodents’ encirclement.

Beside him, the girl was not as formidable, but even she managed to bring down a rat every two or three strikes. What mattered most was the eerie blue fire that enveloped her entire form; upon seeing her, the rats reacted just as they had to the giant serpent moments before—frozen in place, shuddering in terror, none daring to move, lying prone and allowing the girl to attack at will.

Under their combined onslaught, the once-terrifying horde of rats was rapidly thinning.

Who were these people? How could they possibly be so powerful?

She herself was a Level Five Awakened, not among the earliest to awaken, but by her own reckoning, her growth had been swift. At her school, few Awakened had reached her level, and even fewer could match her in combat.

But these two... They were simply on an entirely different level. Just watching from afar, she felt an overwhelming sense of inferiority.

Both wore masks that concealed their information, so Yang Fang couldn’t see their levels. Yet from their performance alone, it was clear they could not possibly be low-leveled. Not to mention the young man’s terrifying pet serpent—its level, at least, she could clearly see.

Level Ten!

A level she’d never even dared to dream of. The highest beast she’d seen before was only Level Five; as for Awakened, Seven was the highest she’d encountered.

If someone could possess a Level Ten beast, what must his own level be?

Kong Zhe had no idea that the female teacher was already half-mythologizing him in her mind. Even if he knew, he would only smile and shrug; he cared little for how others saw him. What mattered was the improvement of his own power.

Now, as he reaped the rats one by one with his sword, he could hardly contain his joy.

The bristling rats were only Level Zero beasts; in fact, they weren’t even true magical beasts. They were ordinary Earth rats, mutated and enhanced by the magic energy that now infused the world.

Yet at their core, they remained mere beasts. Magic had sharpened their teeth and claws and increased their size considerably, but these bristling rats would never gain higher levels. Unlike true magical beasts, who could grow stronger by consuming the flesh of Awakened and other beasts, no matter what these rats devoured, they would remain forever at Level Zero.

Since ancient times, rats have ranked among Earth's most resilient species—surviving where so many others perished, even through the comet impact that wiped out the dinosaurs. The mightiest dinosaurs vanished, but rats endured—not through strength, but through an adaptability few others could match. The current apocalypse was no exception. For most species, magic was a deadly poison, and nearly all native life perished except for the highly adaptable humans.

Yet a few species quickly adjusted; rats among them. Far from succumbing to the magic, they thrived under its influence, evolving through relentless natural selection into something akin to magical beasts.

Their power was negligible—any ordinary human could easily kill a bristling rat. But magic did not enhance their strength so much as their greatest trait: their capacity to reproduce.

In the magical world, it is said: The more powerful the species, the lower their fertility—a natural balance among the races. Dragons, for instance, are immortal, yet it takes millennia for a single hatchling to appear. The blood elves, blessed with immense magical talent, may go centuries or even millennia between generations. Thus, the most powerful races are always the fewest in number.

If a species as mighty as dragons could reproduce freely, they would have long since ruled the world, leaving no place for any others.

The lowly bristling rat fit this principle perfectly. Even on old Earth, rats were among the most prolific mammals. Now, empowered by magic, their reproduction had reached new heights. In the post-apocalyptic world, swarms of bristling rats overrunning the streets became a common sight.

Were it not for the limits imposed by food scarcity, their numbers might have grown without end. In the early days of the apocalypse, rat infestations could engulf entire cities, requiring Awakened to pay a steep price to eradicate them. Sometimes, if the response was too slow, an entire city might be gnawed to emptiness.

No ordinary person could stand against thousands upon thousands of rats.

Of course, such disasters became rare as human strength improved, while the bristling rats remained forever at Level Zero. In time, a single Level 40 or 50 mage could wipe out a vast nest with a few area spells.

But that was in the future. For now, with the hydra’s presence suppressing the rodents, Kong Zhe had nothing to fear and could massacre the bristling rats at will.

Though the gap in levels was vast, and though his accumulated experience now meant each rat gave only the barest sliver of progress, he was content. Even the smallest gain, multiplied by such a staggering number, became significant. Not to mention the silver coins and equipment that so many rats would drop.

Within moments, Kong Zhe had amassed the ten thousand experience points he needed. Delighted, he withdrew from the swarm and returned to the safe zone cleared by the hydra.

Heart pounding, he opened his panel and stared at the glaring “10012” on his experience bar, grinning from ear to ear. Ten thousand! At this stage, he was surely the first on Earth to reach such a total.

Now, which card to ignite?

The water element? Tempting—his earlier one-star Water Wave was useful, and a four-star water card would surely be even better. But the other elements intrigued him as well: Wood, which by theory should offer healing; Fire, likely to boost attack; Lightning, perhaps speeding up movement and attack; and Earth, surely defensive.

He didn’t know the exact effects of the four-star cards, but their general functions were not hard to guess.

He wanted all of them, but only had enough experience to choose one.

Rubbing his hands together, he felt a sense of blissful dilemma.

After a moment of calm reflection, he made his choice: Fire.

Though he had lost his healing pet, the hydra now guaranteed he would remain uninjured in battle for the foreseeable future, so healing from Water or Wood was less urgent.

What he truly lacked was a powerful offensive skill.

His current abilities included a summoning skill, Water Wave for healing, and Light Concealment—a lifesaver, but all support-oriented. What he needed now was a true attack.

And Fire, surely, was the path to greater power.

With some regret, he set aside his curiosity about Lightning and Earth, and chose Fire.

He opened the skill selection and looked at the four-star fire card.

Its name was “Samadhi.” Whether this was the legendary Samadhi Fire, he could not yet tell. All he had was the name—none of the card’s attributes would appear until it was activated.

“Ignite!”

Ding. Activation successful. Fire skill ‘Samadhi’ acquired!

Samadhi.

Attribute: Fire.

Star Level: Four Star.

Card Basic Skill: “You may freely manipulate the divine fire of the heart, ‘Samadhi.’ You can imbue it into weapons or your own body to increase attack power to a certain degree, and your attacks will gain splash damage.”

Kong Zhe was stunned by the description—a skill that could alter the very nature of his attacks. He wielded a sword, much like a swordsman, and had always fought in close combat, strike by strike. But with this skill, he could coat his weapon in Samadhi Fire, turning his blows into sweeping, area-damaging strikes.

All in all, this was a fine skill, and certainly fulfilled his desire for a true attack. Yet...

Frowning at the skill’s description, he found himself uneasy.

It was practical, yes, and met his needs. But its power—how to put it—seemed oddly lacking.

It was not nearly as strong as he’d expected from a four-star card. At best, it was only marginally better than his earlier two cards, and only just reached the level of a B-grade skill.

And yet, he had spent ten thousand experience points for this?

He could not help but feel a tinge of disappointment.