Nascent Soul Rebirth: Starting as a Wizard

Just as White felt the pain in his body gradually subside and an unprecedented surge of power began to flow, making him almost want to roar to the sky, Solo pointed his fingers like a sword and once again pointed at his brow!

This time, it's a direct attack on the level of consciousness and soul!

Despite the dizziness and weakness caused by the fragmentation of his spiritual consciousness, Solo combined a small portion of the origin of his vast spiritual consciousness with basic martial arts moves, power generation techniques, and fragments of combat experience.

And the most rudimentary methods of sensing and identifying the wandering spiritual energy between heaven and earth are combined into an extremely complex flow of information and a faint but tenacious "seed of spiritual consciousness".

In an almost brutal manner, it directly "branded" and "planted" itself into the depths of White's consciousness, which had just been nourished and strengthened by internal energy!

"Ah—!" White felt as if his head was about to explode, with countless images, knowledge, and insights flooding in. The feeling was even more bizarre and unbearable than the physical pain he had just experienced.

After an unknown amount of time, when the torrent of information finally subsided, an unprecedented sense of clarity replaced the chaos.

What he "saw" was different—even with his eyes closed, he could vaguely sense the dust falling within a few feet of him and detect the subtle changes in the airflow outside the shack.

His mind was filled with many incredibly clear memories of battles and a preliminary understanding of his newly acquired power.

He could even vaguely sense some indescribable, thin, yet vibrant "glimmers" in the air.

Solo withdrew his fingers, his breathing noticeably weak, and even fine beads of sweat appeared on his forehead.

This transfer of power not only depleted most of his internal energy foundation and forcibly separated his spiritual source to condense a spiritual seed for White, but also put a considerable burden on his own divine sense, causing him to fall directly to the late stage of Qi Refining. He will need time to rest and recover.

He looked at White, who was slumped on the ground, drenched in sweat, his eyes filled with a mixture of horror, ecstasy, and sudden realization. His voice carried a hint of weariness, yet remained cold and stern: "How do you feel?"

White struggled to his feet, no longer crawling humbly, but kneeling on one knee, trying to mobilize the newborn, surging power within him.

He clenched his fist, and the air hummed slightly.

With a slight thought, the newly formed, though weak, but real spiritual consciousness spread outwards. Although it could only cover a few steps around him and was blurry, it was already an extraordinary experience!

"My Lord!" White's voice was hoarse from excitement and the immense shock he had just experienced, yet it carried an unprecedented strength and a reverence that came from the depths of his soul.

"White... I feel reborn! This kindness and virtue is something I can never repay, even with my life! From this day forward, White's life is the Lord's blade!"

"Remember where this power comes from, and remember the price and mission your rebirth carries." Solo slowly adjusted his breathing, his tone returning to calm.

"I will stay here for the next two weeks. Not to teach you anything new, but to help you get used to 'having'."

Solo's voice rang out in the dimly lit shack.

"Get used to the power within you, get used to the memories in your mind, get used to seeing, hearing, and thinking in new ways, and then learn to use them to 'take'."

White listened intently, clearly feeling the internal energy flowing through his body and the incredibly vivid images of battle in his mind.

They are like a part of oneself, yet so unfamiliar, and in dire need of taming.

Half a month passed in the air of the Rust District, a place unique to the region and imbued with an atmosphere of rust and despair.

Solo's "teaching" was almost harsh, but his methods were extremely direct and effective.

He rarely speaks; he focuses more on practical experience.

In the first few days, White was asked by Solo to "clean up" the local thugs in the alleys near the shack who were used to bullying the weak and extorting money, relying only on his rudimentary mastery of internal energy and the keenness given by his spiritual sense.

Solo remained hidden in the shadows, like a cold-blooded examiner, only appearing when White might be injured due to inexperience or subconscious reliance on old, clumsy fighting methods.

Only then will a cold thought or a simple and direct command be transmitted through the Blood Soul Pact—"Left rib, short strike," "Right rear, sweeping leg," "Spiritual sense locks onto the throat."

These instructions often come in the blink of an eye, forcing White to draw upon his "inherited" martial arts memories and the restless internal energy within him to respond.

What's amazing is that whenever the pressure of a life-or-death battle looms, the martial arts memories and internal energy circulation paths that were forcibly instilled in him are like a sleeping beast being awakened, and they begin to rapidly merge with his body's instincts.

Once, facing an attack by dozens of desperate men wielding rusty iron pipes, White was in grave danger. In a panic, almost instinctively, he stepped to the side, his body naturally twisting to generate power, and threw a punch.

That punch, fueled by internal energy, followed a precise and cunning trajectory, striking first despite being delivered later, accurately piercing through the gaps in the waving iron pipe and landing squarely on the leader's heart.

The man flew out without uttering a sound and fell to the ground, unable to get up.

White himself was stunned. The force, angle, and timing of that move were beyond his comprehension; it was as if his body "remembered" what to do.

Solo's cold voice echoed in his mind: "You saw it? Your body has memorized many things."

What you need to do is not to "learn," but to "remember," and then truly make it your own through "application."

Similar scenes keep playing out.

In the Rust Belt, a lawless zone, conflict and violence are the constant themes.

Under Solo's invisible urging, White was like a beast thrown into the arena, forced to constantly "remember" and "use" it.

His opponents gradually changed from ordinary thugs to small-time bosses with some brute force or ruthless methods, and even included one or two retired soldiers who had learned a rudimentary breathing technique and entered the realm of a formal knight.

Every battle is a forced catalysis and integration of internal energy control, spiritual awareness assistance, and the fighting techniques imprinted deep in the soul.

His progress is visible to the naked eye.

His initial clumsy and stiff movements quickly became ruthless and decisive, with each move simple and effective, often hitting the vital points.

Combined with his superhuman speed and strength, and the almost precognitive sense of danger brought by his spiritual awareness, in just over ten days, he single-handedly and actually managed to forcibly seize "order" in the three most chaotic neighborhoods around the shack, relying solely on his fists and several bloody conflicts.

Those thugs were either beaten into submission and taken in as his outermost henchmen, or they slunk away from the area.

He was measured in his actions, rarely fatal, but his ruthless decisiveness in breaking bones and crushing resistance quickly established a fearsome authority.

In the evening after training ended, the sky outside the shack was gloomy, and the faint hissing of steam valves could be heard in the distance amidst the unique noise of the rusty area.

White stood quietly in front of Solo, still carrying the faint scent of blood, but his eyes were no longer filled with the initial excitement or confusion, but with a calm and sharp look, like a honed blade.

His demeanor was calm and composed, a stark contrast to how he was just half a month ago.

"Looks like you've gotten used to this 'new skin'." Solo's gaze swept over him, his tone flat. "It's time to put it to some practical use."

"Please give your orders, my lord!" White straightened his back, his voice deep and rough, honed by the rust of the iron, yet utterly resolute.

"The first thing," Solo cut to the chase, "is to use these three blocks you currently control as a base to build your reputation and establish a presence that belongs to you."

"The name is 'Dragon and Tiger Club'."