Chapter 53: Starting Over

Yan Luo thought for a moment and chose the staff.

Strictly speaking, there wasn’t much to say about the staff as a weapon. In the era of cold weapons, most ancient generals—using the Romance of the Three Kingdoms as an example—favored spears, while some preferred blades, like the double-edged sword or the Green Dragon Crescent Blade.

The spear was mainly for thrusting, the blade for slashing. Either way, both were lethal on the battlefield.

Some confident warriors wielded halberds—take Lü Bu’s Sky Piercer, for example—which combined the features of a spear, a battle axe, and a great blade. It could thrust, slash, or chop, but demanded exceptional all-around skills from its wielder. So, unless one was showing off, those who dared choose the halberd were never weaklings.

A spear was just a shaft, while the halberd had extra components, making it much heavier. Losing agility in battle could mean the difference between life and death in an instant.

As for the staff...

No one had ever heard of a general daring to wield a staff in battle—it was practically suicidal. If you lacked strength, a blow with a staff wouldn’t kill; if you had the strength, why not use a great blade, an axe, or even a massive iron hammer? The staff was typically the choice of wandering vagabonds, useful for self-defense without risking fatal blows, and its lack of a sharp edge wouldn’t attract the attention of the authorities.

Take, for example, the cudgels frequently appearing in Water Margin.

But for Yan Luo, with the Coiling Dragon Staff in hand, the corresponding weapon was already acquired. Lü Bu’s Sky Piercer was certainly flashy, but not everyone could be Lü Bu. A bronze-rank general’s title only bestowed basic expertise, not advanced mastery or specialization.

The staff, above all, was the easiest to master!

The bronze-rank general’s title wouldn’t last long, and its greatest value lay in quickly helping him become proficient with one type of cold weapon. Rapidly honing his staff technique would greatly enhance his strength. As for the staff’s main drawback—its lack of killing power...

Low lethality could be offset by weight and force. The sixty-two-jin Coiling Dragon Staff was heavy enough. For now, carrying it on his back didn’t feel like much, but using it as a weapon, unleashing a single blow would consume tremendous physical strength!

This wasn’t due to any weakness on his part, but because wielding a weapon was not the same as simply bearing its weight.

Sixty-two jin! In ancient times, those mighty generals wielded such heavy weapons while on horseback, often relying on the horse’s strength. Take the great guandao, for instance: the blade would rest on the ground as the rider mounted, only to be swung when the time came to strike. As for the eighty-two-jin Green Dragon Crescent Blade, the weight system in the Eastern Han Dynasty was different from today—a jin was only 222.72 grams, so the actual weight was just thirty-six jin.

That was already a weapon for the elite!

Yan Luo possessed hidden bio-type genes; with ten gene points, he could advance from basic to intermediate lifeform. By then, his strength would surely see a dramatic increase, and he could fully unleash the Coiling Dragon Staff’s power.

Title, weapon specialization choice: staff.

“Basic Staff Technique.”

If he wanted to master another weapon in the future, he’d be even stronger by then. Worst case, he could grind for a “gold-rank general” title and gain a “specialization” gene directly.

“In fact, if I upgraded my basic lifeform to a perfect one, would my physical strength be enough to wield the 13,500-jin Ruyi Jingu Bang?” Yan Luo mused silently.

“Yan, come quick! Wang’s not going to make it!” Zhu Xiaoyong’s shout interrupted Yan Luo’s thoughts. When he approached, he saw that Wang Dongwei had already pulled out the arrow. The arrow that had pierced his chest had caused a fatal wound; now the man lay on the ground, barely breathing.

The overweight Zhu Xiaoyong had been hit by several arrows himself, but most were stopped by his fat. He knelt beside Wang, sobbing uncontrollably.

You feel a surge of emotion:

Grief +1

With the use of the persona mask, the Heartless Puppet could finally absorb emotions again.

“I thought... with a wound like this... if I pulled out the arrow, I’d survive... but I’ve failed again...” Wang Dongwei lay on the ground, a tragic smile on his face. Blood oozed from his wound, pooling beneath him. He spoke with difficulty: “Don’t cry... I’m just... a bit tired... I want to sleep a little... I’ll wake up soon...”

“Wang, your wounds must hurt so much. I hurt too.” Zhu Xiaoyong’s chubby face was scrunched up, tears and snot streaming down.

“In the storm... what’s a little pain... wipe away your tears, don’t be afraid... at least we still have our dreams...”

Wang Dongwei’s voice grew fainter, his head lolling to one side as his eyes closed.

“Wang? Wang...”

You feel a surge of emotion:

Grief +2

Yan Luo stood silently by, watching the scene unfold. The Heartless Puppet’s emotional gauge gradually rose. After a quarter of an hour, the grief had accumulated to ten points—quite a lot from just one person.

Suddenly, streams of light began to swirl rapidly over the corpse, and as the brilliance enveloped it, the body started to blur.

Zhu Xiaoyong looked on in surprise. “Could it be...?”

You feel a surge of emotion:

Anticipation +2

The swirling light finally dispersed. Wang Dongwei climbed to his feet, all his wounds completely healed, as though he’d never been injured at all.

“I’m alive again,” he sighed.

Yan Luo studied him. He’d had this feeling before, but now it was even more obvious—if Wang had looked about twenty or thirty before, now he looked every bit a man in his thirties. Could it be that he sacrificed longevity in exchange for resurrection?

“Wang, you... you’ve gotten older,” even Zhu Xiaoyong noticed.

“Yes, I have,” Wang Dongwei replied with a bitter smile.

“Is this your destiny talent? The ability to revive at the cost of your lifespan?” Yan Luo wasn’t so much curious as expressing his suspicion.

“It’s not resurrection,” Wang Dongwei shook his head. “My destiny talent is to start over.”

After a brief pause, he continued, “There’s no need to hide it from you two. When I made my wish to the Seed of Hope, I wished for success... Combined with my own traits, I gained the destiny talent: Start Over. This ability doesn’t guarantee me success, but it grants me a second chance... Even in death... my life can begin again.”

“That’s... that’s invincible!” Zhu Xiaoyong exclaimed, shocked. Wasn’t this like having a save point in a game?

“This world abides by the law of equivalent exchange. To start over... how could there not be a price?” Wang Dongwei’s expression was tinged with melancholy. “Again and again... as long as I don’t die, eventually I’ll succeed... But with each failure, time slips away... Every time I reset, I lose a portion of my lifespan... Over time, I’ll grow old.”

“As you can see, my best years are already behind me—lost in repeated failures.”

He brushed his hair aside, revealing white strands among the black. “But when will success finally come?”

“Enough... no more gloomy talk. Being able to start over is a gift from the heavens. At least I’m alive, still striving.”

Wang Dongwei smiled. “By the way, Yan Luo, thank you. If you hadn’t wiped out the Macedonian soldiers, even if I’d used Start Over at the moment of death, I’d have been killed all over again upon reviving.”

“And, since we’re a team, I’ve received a triggered side quest: Notification of the Macedonian Legion’s annihilation. When we clear the level, there’ll be rewards... I’m just lucky to have such a strong ally. If we finish the main quest this time, both Fatty and I should be able to use gene points to strengthen ourselves quite a bit.”

“Let’s go check if this legion dropped any weapons or equipment we can take back with us.”