Chapter 1: Devouring

Qingzhou.

Yuanyang Prefecture, Xiangu County.

Yuanshun Escort Agency, inside a patch of open ground in a side room of the Back Courtyard.

This place was where the Escort Agency stacked firewood and charcoal; few people usually came here, but at this moment, more than ten thin figures were standing scattered across the open ground.

These people were all youths of fifteen or sixteen; most of their bodies had not yet fully developed, and their faces were sallow from long-term malnutrition.

These youths were all Miscellaneous Disciples newly recruited by the Yuanshun Escort Agency this year.

When they first entered the Yuanshun Escort Agency, they had each been exceptionally excited.

Because the Miscellaneous Disciples of the Yuanshun Escort Agency had the opportunity to learn some rudimentary martial techniques.

Those who learned well had the opportunity to be promoted to Apprentices.

Once they became Apprentices, they could learn real martial arts and could follow Escorts to go out on escort missions.

Given time, once they were proficient in the business, they could also become Escorts themselves.

Although it was said that being an Escort meant eating a meal from the jianghu, which carried some danger, for these youths from impoverished backgrounds, this was already a quite good profession.

At the very least, they could fill their stomachs, and they could scrape together some extra profit to some extent.

But now, they had already been through the doors for two and a half months.

Their moods had also slowly turned dim from excitement.

Out of a batch of Miscellaneous Disciples, at most one or two could become Apprentices, and often, they would be wiped out in whole batches, with not a single one standing out.

Seeing that in half a month, it would be the day of the assessment.

How well one had practiced, one knew best in one's own heart.

Most of the Miscellaneous Disciples already knew that they could not possibly be selected, so they had already begun to give up and just drift through the days.

Starting a few days ago, people had already been successively absent from the evening martial arts practice time.

Just at this moment, Duan Rong wiped the fine sweat from his forehead and ran into this courtyard from the corner gate.

He was the last Miscellaneous Disciple to enter, because he had been assigned to the horse stables furthest from here.

Duan Rong wore a set of brown short-sleeved clothes, his body appearing slightly thin, but this was all from being starved due to long-term lack of food.

In fact, his frame was not small.

Duan Rong swept a glance at the number of people in the courtyard; there were only about ten or so left.

The Yuanshun Escort Agency had recruited over thirty Miscellaneous Disciples this year, and before the assessment had even arrived, more than half were already gone.

Duan Rong sighed, though he could actually understand the thoughts of those who had left; these Miscellaneous Disciples had to labor hard every day and still come here to practice martial arts in the evening—if there was hope, they could grit their teeth and persist.

If they knew they wouldn't be selected, what was the point of working themselves to death like this?

Duan Rong cast his eyes toward the old weapon rack standing in the corner of the courtyard.

On that rack were placed broken-edged, discarded sabers, used for these Miscellaneous Disciples to practice.

Duan Rong's eyes suddenly lit up; he saw that there was an extra saber on the rack.

Duan Rong immediately walked over with some excitement, found the newly added saber, and gripped it in his hand.

This was an ordinary Ox-Tail Saber, its hilt worn down and its blade chipped in four or five places, just like a scarred, disabled old soldier who had retired from the battlefield.

Duan Rong took a breath with some nervousness and silently recited in his heart: "Spirit Reader!"

A set of data immediately floated before Duan Rong's eyes.

Artifact: Ox-Tail Saber.

Spirit Artifact Tier: Second Tier.

Devouring Requirement: Host Level 2 Mental Power (Not Met).

Devouring Effect: Five Tigers Flock of Sheep Saber Proficiency, Asura Saber Entry, Plum Blossom Saber Technique Entry.

After seeing the data, Duan Rong's bright eyes instantly dimmed; the Spirit Artifact Tiers of these retired, discarded sabers were either Second Tier or Third Tier, and he simply could not devour them.

Duan Rong cursed inwardly and put the Ox-Tail Saber back onto the rack; he had only soul-transmigrated to this world a few days ago, and although he had inherited the original owner's memories, he was still confused about many situations.

Especially this Devouring Artifact Spirit ability that had come with him; until now, he still didn't know if this ability was reliable or not.

After all, he had already tried all the discarded sabers on the rack once, and not a single one had been successfully devoured.

Duan Rong stood into the ranks with some depression.

As soon as Duan Rong entered the crowd, several people covered their noses and distanced themselves from him.

"Smells like horse manure, it stinks to death!"

Duan Rong indeed had a foul smell all over him.

He worked in the stables, and the horses were important property of the Escort Agency.

Every day he had to feed the horses soaked fodder, and he also had to clean up the horse manure.

If there was an escort mission the next day, he also had to brush and wash the bodies of the horses going on the mission.

After a day of labor, the smell of foul sweat and horse manure all over his body was unavoidable.

Duan Rong looked at the way those few people frowned in disgust, but his heart felt a burst of secret joy.

In his previous life, Duan Rong was an insurance salesman and had long since trained a thick skin that could endure being spat on; this bit of disdainful expression was, to him, simply like a light breeze brushing his face, nothing more than a drizzle.

"Suffocate you few ignorant fools..." Duan Rong cursed in his heart.

Just at this moment, a broad figure flashed out from the main gate of the courtyard.

Zhao Mu was an Intern Escort in the Escort Agency; he was big and burly, quite sturdy.

Because he had made a small mistake on his last escort mission, he had been scolded bloody by the Escort Head, who had also assigned him the job of leading the Miscellaneous Disciples, a task that required effort but yielded no profit.

Although Zhao Mu was quite dissatisfied, he dared not slack off; the Escort Head already had a bad impression of him, and if he didn't teach well, if something went wrong, perhaps his transition from intern to full status this year would go down the drain.

That would be a loss that outweighed the gain!

Zhao Mu held his hands across his chest, clutching a sheathed Ox-Tail Saber in his arms, stepped over the threshold, and walked in with a haughty air.

Zhao Mu spat a thick glob of phlegm onto the ground, his gaze sweeping over the crowd like a wild dog, before stopping on Duan Rong and shouting, "Kid, come here, take the oily rag and wipe my saber!"

There was no one around Duan Rong, and standing in the ranks, he was indeed somewhat conspicuous; he had not expected to be singled out by Zhao Mu.

Duan Rong wrinkled his nose and walked over somewhat reluctantly, a burst of low laughter coming from behind him.

In fact, it was not because Duan Rong was conspicuous in the ranks that Zhao Mu called him.

He himself had also come up from being a Miscellaneous Disciple; he knew very well who among these people practiced well and who did not.

Not only did Duan Rong practice poorly, with no possibility of being chosen as an Apprentice, but he had also had a serious illness some time ago, and his progress could not keep up at all; having him wipe his saber could be considered finding some value in him.

Duan Rong took the saber from Zhao Mu's hand, picked up an oily rag from the windowsill, and sat on the steps of the courtyard gate.

This rag was soaked in castor oil; using this rag to wipe the saber could provide a certain level of maintenance.

Duan Rong drew the saber from its scabbard, only to see the bright, gleaming blade emitting a piercing cold light, completely incomparable to the shabby appearance of those scrap sabers on the rack.

Duan Rong exclaimed "Good saber!" in his heart; his eyes rolled, and with a thought, he wanted to see the Spirit Artifact Tier of the saber in his hand.

"Spirit Reader!"

Duan Rong looked at the set of data before his eyes, his heart filled with astonishment.

Artifact: Ox-Tail Saber.

Spirit Artifact Tier: Unranked.

Devour Requirement: None. (Satisfied)

Devour Effect: Five Tigers Flock of Sheep Saber entry-level.

He had originally expected that the Spirit Tool of such a good saber would certainly be of a higher tier than those scrap sabers on the rack.

But the result was exactly the opposite.

The Spirit Tools of the scrap sabers on the rack were all Second Tier or Third Tier, yet the Spirit Tool of this good saber in his hand was actually still Unranked.

In other words, the Spirit Tool of this good saber was still far inferior to those scrap sabers on the rack.

"This..." Duan Rong could not fathom the reason for this for a moment.

"Could it be that the longer a weapon is used, the more it will soak up a person's essence, energy, and spirit, thereby nourishing the growth of the Spirit Tool?"

However, this was only Duan Rong's guess, which would still need to be verified in the future. He did not dwell too long on this uncertain question; after all, he could devour the Spirit Tool of this saber, which was a good thing for him.

Moreover, the devour effect was the Five Tigers Flock of Sheep Saber, reaching the entry-level realm of saber technique.

For him, this could be called sending charcoal in snowy weather.

Although it was only the entry-level realm, if he could truly reach it, it would be more than enough to be promoted to an Apprentice.

Duan Rong was suddenly overjoyed.

"Devour!"

(End of chapter)