Chapter II

---

[Ding! You have obtained a weapon: Zither.]

[Weapon: Zither

Rank: Low Grade-Mortal Rank

Type: Soul Weapon

Bonding: 0%

Physical Constitution Requirement: 300

Mental Constitution Requirement: 1,000

Soul Constitution Requirement: 1,000

Description: It awaits the touch of ethereal, carved in the drifting silence of the last aurora of dawn.]

“Well, it seems I didn’t have any luck with my mystery box.” Zayn gazed at the musical instrument hovering in front of him and at its information panel; it was only a mortal ranked and low-grade weapon at that, which was the lowest ranked weapon, and its requirement for a new player like him was astronomical.

"Just as the forums mentioned," he sighed, a hint of disappointment in his voice for his mystery box reward.

Forum posts stated that each minor cultivation level gained 10 stat points, but when he saw what was needed to play this lowest ranking zither, he just sighed. At times, possessing knowledge felt like a prison, preventing him from enjoying the adventure of discovery, yet it was essential to becoming the best.

Zayn grasped the hovering Zither, the first physical contact sending a wave of surprise through him. The wood, though not conventionally beautiful, possessed an undeniable elegance. Its surface was smooth yet possessed a subtle texture—maybe a few bumps on the backside.

Unlike the rectangular shapes of traditional zithers, this one possessed a unique trapezoidal form. The top, where the headstock would reside on a regular instrument, was comfortably narrow, barely wider than his palm. As it flowed down towards the body, the width gracefully expanded, reaching a comfortable span between his wrist and elbow. It felt perfectly balanced, neither cumbersome nor too small.

The flat surface wasn't bare. A mesmerising pattern adorned the wood, resembling a cascading waterfall. The intricate details evoked a sense of tranquilly, and for a fleeting moment, Zayn almost swore he could hear the gentle gurgling of water tumbling over smooth rocks, creating a symphony of river water.

The strings, perhaps crafted from some form of smooth silk, shimmered with a dull luminescence. He felt drawn to their alluring presence, and Zayn instinctively flicked his fingers across them, expecting a melody to fill the air. Instead, the strings remained stubbornly unresponsive, and a sharp sting shot through his fingertips. Startled, he jerked his hand back, nearly dropping the instrument. He shook his hand to negate the sting in his fingers.

And after a deep breath, he calmed down. As he recomposed himself, a subtle scent of freshly moistened wood reached his nose, further emphasising. Zither's unique character. It wasn't just a weapon; it was a work of art, unlike anything he'd encountered in the previous VR games he'd played. All those weapons felt like a tool to him, a tool for his victory, but the Zither felt something more than that.

“I'm not strong enough to wield you, and I don’t have a battle technique related to you, so you’ll have to wait. However,” his hands drifted from top to bottom of Zither, following the flow of water portrayed on the wooden surface alongside the strings, “I’ll give you a name.” As he said that, he looked at the description of the Zither.

[Description: It awaits the touch of the ethereal, carved in the drifting silence of the last aurora of dawn.]

Zayn had a habit of naming his weapons, and the way this Zither made him feel, like that of flowing water, splashing, and curling, he ought to give this weapon a more meaningful name. “I’ll name you Silent Dawn.” As if the Zither acknowledged its new name, Silent Dawn, a melody's tingling sound reverberated from Silent Dawn and reached Zayn’s ears. His eyebrows shot up and a chuckle of surprise escaped his lips.

[Ding! You have named the soul weapon Zither.]

[Your bonding with Silent Dawn has increased from 0% to 10%.]

[Name: Silent Dawn]

Weapon: Zither

Grade: Mortal-Low Level

Type: Soul Weapon Bonding: 0%

Physical Strength Requirement: 300

Mental Strength Requirement: 1,000

Soul Strength Requirement: 1,000

[Description: It awaits the touch of the ethereal, carved in the drifting silence of the last aurora of dawn.]

“Another way to increase bonding with it is to refine it; well, that is certainly not possible in this environment, and now not only do I have to find a cultivation technique for myself but also a battle technique for Silent Dawn before I meet the requirements.”

There were only 57 seconds remaining, and without wasting any, he finally said, “Status bar,” which opened his character information section.

[Name: Ye Feng

Age: 19

Race: Human

Bloodline: None

Cultivation: None

Physique: None (Eternal Silence)

Spiritual Root: Frost Shadow Spiritual Root

Stigma: None

Inheritance: None

Physical Constitution: 7 (1222)

Mental Constitution: 8 (1032)

Soul Constitution: 9 (1620)

Cultivation Technique: None (Eternal is Path, Silence is Direction)

Battle Techniques: None]

Zayn furrowed his brow as he examined the discrepancies in his status with concern. “A glitch, maybe? Should I report it? Once I leave the game, I'll definitely complain. But those stats—damn, with those, I could be closer to a Spirit Foundation Realm cultivator."

Reluctantly, he tore his gaze away from the intriguing stats, cultivation technique, and physique that captivated him. Even if one didn’t have a good spiritual root, if they had a physique, even if that physique turned out to be of the lowest rank, it would still be better than the lowest-ranked spiritual root.

"Wait," he thought, "maybe these are my locked stats? Perhaps there's a way to unlock them permanently. I need to investigate further before complaining."

He glanced up, and only 12 seconds were remaining, he clicked on his spiritual roots because clicking on the crossed information didn’t open any new panels.

[Spiritual Root: Frost Shadow Spiritual Root

Grade: Mortal

Elemental Affinity: Yin and Darkness]

Zayn closed his eyes and rubbed them with the palm of his hand. He then inhaled sharply, and the timer reached zero.

“What a shit spiritual root; I’m screwed.” His voice faded along with him as he vanished from the dark space.

*** *** ***

Before Zayn opened his eyes, his ears perked to the sound of the crowd around him—chaotic yet at a certain level of harmony one would expect in a forest.

He cautiously opened his eyes, but the scene that greeted him forced him to shut them again momentarily. Squinting, he gradually accustomed his eyes to the environment.

The realism of the game widened his eyes in surprise. Subconsciously nodding in approval, he acknowledged that the past eight months had not been in vain. VR games provided freedom into fantasy, away from the real world and its rules and regulations. There was a different kind of smell in the air—not the scent found on the outskirts of towns in the Kingdom in the real world, but a lush scent of greenery and wildness lingered in the air. The realism of smell, vision, and senses was what made this the best game, and Zayn appreciated the bliss it offered. He even felt saliva in his mouth, and if he willed it, he could spit it out.

His gaze darted around, and he found himself standing on some kind of huge circular stone with a squarish pattern embedded in it, and all around them was a lush green forest with towering trees. The forums had referred to this as the ‘Summoning Stone,’ as the locals had informed them.

New individuals materialised on the summoning stone as if teleported there, and he understood they were players. They wore different expressions; some appeared happy, some neutral, and some despairing. Zayn himself maintained a neutral expression. He knew why these people had such expressions; it was all due to their acquisition of good-ranking cultivation techniques, spiritual roots, or even physique from the mysterious box, unlike him, who had received a low-grade mortal rank zither.

This was an obvious giveaway that newbies often displayed when revealing their gains through their expressions. The less one showed expression, the better they hid their cards.

“How many among these newbies are scavengers?” Zayn thought to himself. He glanced around, hoping to find Niyor standing somewhere, but to his disappointment, he was alone.

The surroundings were soon filled with more players as more and more teleported there.

“Mortals!” A voice booming with authority resounded, and the surroundings fell pin-drop quiet. Everyone gazed at the source of the voice: a man wearing a dark navy robe with light purplish embroidery depicting strange mythical creatures.

‘Dark navy robe with purplish embroidery of the mythical creature Nuckelavee, so he’s an elder from the Artic Lotus Sect. This means this place is...’ Before Zayn could think any further, the booming voice of the elder hovering in the sky boomed like thunder and reached their mortal ears: “Welcome to Blue Ink City, under the control of the Arctic Lotus Sect.”

---