A Mage in the Martial Arts World - Chapter 002
This gloomy, ghostly place must be the original owner’s sea of consciousness. As Li Wei looked around, a sudden realization dawned on him.
Without warning, the mist ahead began to churn, and a figure slowly emerged.
He took a closer look—and froze.
It was a thin, pale young man, about fifteen or sixteen years old. The boy stared straight at him, blank-eyed, lips moving as if murmuring something to himself.
Could it be? The ghost still lingers. The moment Li Wei saw him, he understood—the boy was the soul of the body’s original owner.
“The Natural Dao Sutra… The Natural Dao Sutra…” The whispering grew clearer. Li Wei listened carefully and confirmed that the voice indeed came from the original owner’s soul.
The words floating before him began to shift. Their chaotic movements gradually found order, aligning and converging toward a single point.
In the blink of an eye, the scattered characters vanished—replaced by a single large word: Dao. It hovered silently in front of him, about three feet away, the size of a plate.
That one word carried an indescribable natural aura, profound and vast. It immediately drew in all of Li Wei’s attention.
He felt as if his entire mind—and even his soul—were irresistibly pulled toward it.
Then, the word “Dao” suddenly stirred. It shot forward, striking him directly between the brows. For an instant, it left a bright mark on his forehead before quickly fading away.
The moment the character touched him, Li Wei felt the space binding him dissolve. Freedom returned to his body.
A voice—or perhaps an understanding—rose faintly in his mind:
“The Natural Dao… Humanity has neither claws nor fangs, no hardened scales, nor wings to soar like birds. We are weaker than beasts, slower than fish and turtles—yet we are the spirit of all things. Why? Because of one word—Law. Man follows the Earth, Earth follows Heaven, Heaven follows the Dao, and the Dao follows what is natural… To imitate Heaven and Earth, to condense the essence of all creation, to wield the powers of nature, to seize the workings of Heaven itself—this is to walk the Great Way… to become its master…”
A mage?
This “Natural Dao Sutra” was meant to guide one toward mastery—but according to the original owner’s memories, there was no such profession as a mage on this barbaric continent.
“Cultivation… cultivation…” The voice of the original owner’s lingering soul echoed faintly in Li Wei’s mind, and he sensed that strange remnant expanding once more.
“All right, I’ll cultivate. I’ll start right now,” Li Wei said quickly in his mind, sending his intent to the lingering soul.
Damn ghost… I really need to find a way to deal with him soon, or I’ll never get a good night’s sleep.
He agreed so readily not only to pacify the remnant soul but also because he had his own suspicions.
Somehow, he sensed that becoming a mage might change his situation—and perhaps even erase the soul fragment completely.
Of course, the very idea of being a mage held a strong allure for him as well.
The “Dao” that had entered his mind contained vast information: not only the cultivation method itself but also detailed knowledge of the mage profession—its arts, its powers, its mysteries. It was both wondrous and terrifying.
Even so, Li Wei didn’t begin cultivating immediately. Instead, he reopened the Natural Dao Sutra in his hands.
The pages that once held words were no longer blank—but filled with strange, indecipherable lines, exactly as he remembered from the original owner’s memories.
He somehow felt that the Natural Dao Sutra had now become an ordinary book.
Just as he was about to give up, the book changed again. A faint white mist rose from its pages and gathered above it, forming six glowing characters:
Babel Tower — Ye Wushuang
Li Wei stared at them, feeling as if the words had entered his mind through his eyes, carving themselves deep into his memory—something he would never forget.
A moment later, the six words faded, and the book returned to normal.
He couldn’t yet understand their meaning, so he set the thought aside for the moment.
Clearing a space in the room, he barred the door and began his first attempt at cultivation—following the method revealed by the Natural Dao Sutra.
Becoming a mage was no easy task.
The very first step was the hardest—transforming one’s spiritual energy into mana.
Even those born with an affinity for magic often failed repeatedly before succeeding.
But Li Wei’s result far exceeded expectations.
He succeeded on his very first try. The process was surprisingly smooth—there were a few minor disturbances, but overall, it went astonishingly well.
So… I’m really a mage now?
He opened his eyes in disbelief, feeling as though he were dreaming.
His vision was sharper; everything around him appeared more vivid and defined, as if a veil had been lifted from the world.
His hearing, smell, and touch had all grown keener too—so much so that it took him a moment to adjust. Yet the delight quickly overcame the strangeness.
These foreign arts truly were extraordinary.
After calming himself, Li Wei decided to test what other abilities this new profession might hold.
He extended his right hand, palm open, and stared at it intently.
Nothing happened.
He pushed more mana into it, his face reddening with effort.
Finally, the air above his palm began to ripple. A faint white mist appeared out of thin air, growing denser and denser.
When the light reached a certain concentration, he tried to compress it into a specific shape. But it grew unstable.
Unwilling to fail, he forced it under control—only for it to explode moments later, sending a gust of wind whipping through the room.
The blast stung his hand and nearly knocked him backward; his head almost struck the wall.
And yet, he smiled.
Though the attempt had failed, it made him truly appreciate the might of the mage’s craft—and confirmed that it was indeed something extraordinary.
Over the next several days, Li Wei conducted many similar experiments. Each one ended in failure, but with every attempt, his control grew sharper.
Eventually, even when he lost control, the resulting backlash was nothing more than a gentle breeze.
Gradually, he began to sense his mana running low, and fatigue crept in. Still, something in his gut urged him to try once more.
His intuition proved right.
This time, he succeeded.
If anyone else had seen the result, they would’ve been dumbfounded—not because it was powerful, but because it was so tiny.
A mosquito.
A small, delicate mosquito hovered above his palm.
Li Wei couldn’t help but laugh, a broad smile spreading across his face.
After steadying his breathing, he focused on controlling it, willing it to move.
Slowly, the mosquito began to flutter, unsteady but alive.
His grin widened.
With more practice, he could already make it fly freely across his palm.
But the moment it drifted out of his hand, it suddenly lost control and dropped to the ground.
Instead of disappointment, Li Wei’s eyes lit up in surprise.
Upon hitting the floor, the mosquito drilled straight into the hard wooden boards—blasting a fist-sized hole into them.
The Xiaoyao Marquisate spared no expense on its buildings, and Li Wei’s room was no exception. The floor was made of fine, dense wood—hard enough that even an axe would leave only shallow marks.
Yet this tiny mosquito, crafted purely from mana, had bored through it with ease. Its destructive power was undeniable.
This is just a mosquito… What if I created a swarm?
What if it were something larger—a hawk, a lion, a bear, a tiger… or even a monster?
The mere thought made his heart race.
And this was only the beginning—the true power of a mage was far beyond this.
This was just the tip of the iceberg.
What’s that supposed to mean? Is this going to turn into a soul battle? A fierce light flashed in his eyes.
He had no intention of giving up this chance to change his fate. Besides, if he were to withdraw from the original owner’s body now, he himself would be completely annihilated.
Either you die, or I live. Li Wei steeled himself and confronted the lingering soul.
“The Natural Dao Sutra! The Natural Dao Sutra…” The voice of the original soul suddenly rose, and his body began to swell rapidly—ten zhang tall in an instant, and still growing.
Li Wei’s heart tightened. A wave of danger washed over him, forcing him to stop and retreat.
But even as he backed away, the sense of crisis only intensified. The original owner’s soul was still expanding at an alarming rate.
It’s a bomb, Li Wei realized, watching the ever-thinning soul body stretch and distort. If it kept expanding, it would eventually reach a breaking point—and explode.
That alone wouldn’t have bothered him much, but he would be caught in the blast and vanish along with it.
What do I do? What do I do…? Li Wei forced himself to stay calm.
“The Natural Dao Sutra?” His eyes lit up. It might just be the key to stopping this.
“Wait! I’ll recite the Natural Dao Sutra right now!”
Under the pressure of impending death, Li Wei’s voice boomed so powerfully that even he was startled by it. The sound waves rippled outward—visible to the naked eye.
As the waves struck the original soul’s form, a miracle occurred.
A spark of light flickered in the soul’s dull, vacant eyes. The swelling stopped, and the enormous body began to shrink rapidly until it returned to normal size.
Li Wei watched closely, not daring to blink.
The soul seemed to have lost all consciousness—its movements guided only by the lingering obsession it carried from life. It was incomplete now, a mere remnant. The realization eased Li Wei’s heart a little; at least it wouldn’t attack him on its own.
He also noticed something else—the expansion had come at a cost. After shrinking back down, the soul’s form looked even more transparent, faint as mist.
A few more outbursts like that, and it might simply fade away on its own. Still, Li Wei shook his head. He couldn’t rely on that. Who knew if the soul could stop itself from self-destructing next time?
“Tell me,” Li Wei said aloud, “how do I get back? If I can’t return, I won’t be able to study the Natural Dao Sutra at all.”
He searched desperately but couldn’t find a way out of this sea of consciousness. In the end, he could only ask the remnant soul itself.
Suddenly, a wave of force burst from the soul’s body and slammed into him like a shockwave.
What the—? Li Wei tried to dodge, but it was too late. The wave struck him squarely.
He felt himself being thrown backward, faster and faster—but oddly, he wasn’t hurt at all.
A jolt ran through his body, his vision flashed—and then he was back in the real world.
He stood before the bookshelf, gripping it tightly with one hand. The book Dragon Transformation lay at his feet.
He reached down to pick it up but hesitated. Who knew if that would trigger some backlash from the remnant soul? After a moment, he let it be.
Instead, he walked over and picked up the Natural Dao Sutra.
Before opening it, a sly smile tugged at his lips.
He’d only said he wanted to look at the Natural Dao Sutra—he’d never promised to study it seriously.
He flipped the book open quickly.
As his eyes fell upon the pages, they lit up in surprise.
Could it be that the original owner actually got lucky this time—and stumbled upon a true treasure?
The sight before him was completely different from what he remembered from the original owner’s memories.
The pages were no longer filled with meaningless scribbles. Instead, each character was clear and elegant—simple yet weighty, exuding a profound aura.
Li Wei suppressed his excitement and turned to the first page, eager to see what secrets it held.
But before he could, something unexpected happened.
The characters on the page began to stir. Unlike what happened with Dragon Transformation, this time they weren’t influenced by the original owner’s obsession. They were moving of their own accord—rising off the paper, floating into the air one by one.
Li Wei stared in shock as the words streamed out of the book like a swarm of bees leaving the hive.
A thrill ran through him. His instincts screamed that this was no ordinary text—he might have truly found a priceless treasure.
What level could it be? Blue? Purple? His heart pounded with anticipation.
On the Barbaric Continent, martial arts techniques were divided into nine tiers: red, orange, yellow, green, cyan, blue, purple, rainbow, and black—each one more powerful than the last.
The first three ranks—red, orange, and yellow—weren’t particularly rare; anyone with money could buy them. But once you reached the green and cyan tiers, such manuals became treasures no one would casually trade.
Blue-level techniques were often family secrets, guarded as heirlooms by great clans.
Most powerful sects and noble families possessed nothing higher than that.
As for the purple level, only ancient lineages, royal houses, or sects with deep heritage had any, and even fewer individuals were qualified to practice them.
Rainbow-level techniques hadn’t appeared in the world for centuries, and the black-level arts existed only in legends—no one even knew if they truly existed.
While Li Wei was still speculating about the Natural Dao Sutra’s level, more and more characters kept rising from the pages. They gathered in the air before him, forming what looked like a small, swirling dark cloud.
He instinctively tried to step back—but found he couldn’t move.
The moment the first character left the page, space itself seemed to freeze around him. He felt like a fish trapped in ice, unable even to blink.
After a while, no more words emerged. Thousands of glowing characters now floated before him, swirling in strange, intricate patterns.