“In the waning years of the Great Qian dynasty, slaves rolled in blood at the mines, while secret realms of the martial world lay hidden amid piles of corpses. Everyone knew that the ‘Martial Treasury’ left behind by an ancient Martial Saint could make someone a saint, but nine out of ten who entered would die.
Lin Zhao was the one who survived.
The ‘Martial Treasury Attribute Allocation System’ awakened as he sank into the river, driving him into one deadly predicament after another. In the Shaolin secret realm, he forced his way into the Pavilion of Seventy-Two Arts, hauling a wooden training dummy on his back. In the Demon Cult secret realm, he fought his way out of a massacre of ten thousand with a bloodied blade in hand. At an ancient ruin, he ran his fingers over a broken stele engraved with the words ‘Resist the demonic cultivators from beyond the realms’ and finally understood that the so-called ‘Martial Treasury’ was a collection of killing techniques forged from the lives of those who came before.
When his attribute panel reached ‘Martial Saint: 800 points (Peak),’ and Shen Qingzhu’s silver needles pierced his heart to help him break through the final bottleneck, Lin Zhao gripped the ‘Martial Treasury Token’ he had brought back from the secret realm and smiled at the demonic clouds roiling across the horizon.
“If a mine slave can become a saint, then I’ll guard this world in the name of the Martial Saint.”
