Reincarnator Returns: Second Shot

Eren’s eyes scanned the entire gymnasium. Towards the hundreds of examinees unleashing their Martial Manuals with great pride and gusto. Their ’Psions’ painted the concrete walls a blood red hue.

Thunderous punches went off like a volley of ballistics. So much concrete was shattered that a thin dust field permeated the entire gymnasium, turning it slightly more polluted.

Perhaps Eren was the only one amongst the examinees who had yet to throw a single Primal Strike.

Observation was his first and only focus.

His attention was inevitably drawn towards a certain examinee at the center of attention.

It was the same cocksure individual from before. The Ræzoň on both of his fists billowed with flames curling unnaturally, like they were ocean waves painted by an ancient painter from the olden times.

Wrath of Damnation’s Torment, Eren recognized.

It was a famous Martial Manual from the Realm of Perdition. Its greatest strength came from the unrelenting barrage of strikes that its cultivator could unleash, reminiscent of the unending suffering and terror that the realm was infamous for.

Cultivated to perfection, this Martial Manual could incinerate anything it touched.

”So that’s Magnus... this first exam will be a piece of cake for him.”

”He’s a Lindberg. Of course he’s going to get a Licence.”

”I bet he could crush through five consecutive concrete walls with ease.”

Magnus Lindberg gazed at his hands, its animated flames curling with activity as it was nourished with Psions from his Dantian.

Then, he unleashed a hellfire of punches. One after another. Flowing like an engine’s pistons with great speed and power.

He broke through the twelve-inch thick wall within less than a second. A perfect demonstration of his skill and power. Enough for him to burn his way through the first test of the exam with ease.

But he wasn’t satisfied with simply breaking through the concrete wall. His foot shuffled to the side, allowing him to seamlessly shift his body to the unbroken area of the concrete wall.

He moved sideways, striking his target until he left a connection of depressions on the facet of the wall, as if it had a personal vendetta against it.

His last punch struck the last connection between the upper and lower part of the concrete wall, causing the former to crash backwards, almost burying the examinee training on the other side.

Magnus gained admiration, awe and intimidation from that stunt.

A careless use of information, Eren thought to himself.

Magnus painted a target on his own back in exchange for notoriety. Now, everyone knew his strengths. And Eren knew his weakness.

Eren took a stroll in his Mind Palace. Within seconds, he found the Martial Manual detailing the entire cultivation method for the [Wrath of Damnation’s Torment].

Its secrets were laid bare for him to see.

It looked complex and impressive, surely. But after reading through its contents, Eren realized that the Martial Manual was simply an application of the Primal Strike performed in quick succession.

He supplemented this knowledge with first-hand accounts from memoirs and journals criticizing the Martial Manual for all its flaws.

This guy has reached the Middle Proficiency rank. At this mastery, movement is still its main limiting factor.

”I can’t believe Magnus got placed in our group. He’s got a 8-star talent in the Upper Body, you know?” someone whispered from the side.

Lucky him. The [Wrath of Damnation’s Torment] was resource heavy. Performing such numerous strikes took a massive toll on a cultivator’s Ræzoň reserves. Meaning, the Martial Manual’s limit was based on the amount of Ræzoň in a person’s dantian.

Eren wouldn’t have ever chosen this Martial Manual for himself, even if he had an 8-star talent himself.

It was too flashy and ostentatious. It focused far too much in the Upper Body, basically neglecting the Lower Body.

Eren continued to observe the rest of the examinees. Not many stood out. Their Martial Manuals were commonplace, mostly given to outer disciples.

That guy looks more interesting.

His gaze landed on another examinee. A monk. His head was completely devoid of any hair. No eyebrows, no mustache, no beard.

Instead, red markings covered his entire face.

Tiger eyes were painted above where his eyebrows would be, with their unique stripes stretching up to the top of his skull and down into the back of his head. Meanwhile, his left hand was covered with a leopard print and his right, a turtle’s scales.

It wouldn’t be surprising if the rest of his body was inundated with more markings.

He’s using the [Primordial Beast Hunter] Ascension Art!

The monk carried with him a large wasp’s nest strapped behind his back. No sound came from this hive. Not until the monk gazed at his hands, summoning Ræzoň into his fists.

Suddenly, miniature sprites bursted out at the top of the wasp’s nest, buzzing their butterfly-like wings like a disturbed hive.

Pixies!

Eren could barely hide his excitement. Pixies were creatures that were made out of pure Ræzoň, living in the Uncanny Realm as a natural force like storms and volcanoes and droughts.

They were humanoid-like creatures the size of a fingernail. Their bodies were translucent, made from the energy of nature around them. Sometimes, they presented as creatures with overgrown, leafy bodies. Sometimes, they manifested as ethereal, smoky figures.

So they exist here too!

Pixies were born in any place where chaos and mystery reigned. None of which, he thought, would be found here on Earth.

They did say 30% of the world is still uninhabited. Perhaps, the destruction caused by those Phantoms caused nature energy to become destabilized, allowing the emergence of the Pixies.

Just like how cultivators found a way to wield the power of the storms in their hands, cultivators also found a way to domesticate these Pixies.

Taming these creatures granted incredible power and chaotic energy. But Pixies were temperamental creatures. One does not simply command them without first attaining their respect and consent.

This monk seemed to have done just that.

As Ræzoň gathered in his hands, Pixies swarmed atop his palms like bees hungry for pollen.

Once filled with Ræzoň, the Pixies coalesced to form a ball brimming with energy. Their wings vibrated with excitement.

Then, they shot towards the concrete, exploding into sprite confetti, taking with them a large chunk of the wall.