Warrior Training System - Chapter 253: Real play (R-18)

An entomologist’s soul transmigrates into a cultivation world, inhabiting the body of a small, obscure cultivator who specializes in insect manipulation. Reborn, he desires only to avoid conflict and quietly develop in a mortal village.Inspired by the “Sun-Moon Heart Sutra,” he creates his own “Ten Absolute Scripture.” Inspired by the “Nine Deaths Divine Art,” he devises the “Purgatory True Demon Technique.” Moved by the “Eternal Life Sutra.” he extrapolates it into a hundred layers.With boundless creativity, extraordinary insight, and unlimited time, he pioneers new techniques, pill formulas, artifact designs, array formations, gu recipes, poison concoctions, and brewing methods—all entirely of his own invention.While others cultivate paths of slaughter, he alone forges and cultivates the path of self creation.

I returned after 10 years.

Ye Feng was transported to a cultivation world, but unfortunately had no hope of cultivating immortality and could only live as an ordinary mortal. He only wished to live a peaceful life.Yet he didn’t know—The dog he adopted, because it ate his food, became a legendary demon king.The kitchen knife he casually forged became a peerless divine weapon, causing numerous experts to fight desperately for it.The young disciple he took in became an immortal lord that led an era, due to cultivating the techniques Ye Feng taught him.Even the skeletons he looked down on the most were ominous demon kings that suppressed countless worlds.Many years later, looking at the void shattered with a punch, Ye Feng murmured to himself: It turns out the peerless kings were myself all along…

I had finally done it—achieved the ultimate Paladin build. Maxed stats, impenetrable armor, and so many resistances that death itself had given up on me. I was an unkillable tank, an indomitable force. Nothing could stop me.And then my PC exploded.I died.Irony, thou art a cruel mistress.But instead of the afterlife, I woke up as my Paladin character… in the wrong freaking genre. Instead of castles and dungeons, there were people flying around on swords, shooting qi beams like fantasy laser guns.“This is definitely the wrong genre,” I muttered, watching a pompous young master sneer at me.“Kowtow, kiss my foot, and beg for forgiveness!” he declared.I looked at my imaginary maxed-out health bar, then at his flimsy silk robes.Oh, this was going to be fun.