Chapter 2: Changing the Unchangeable (Patreon)

Standing on the barricade, Rey stared at the two warriors. Blocking the first swing, his spear shaft easily diverted the blow coming to take his life. After dying and repeating the same day a few times, he had learned a few tricks. The second blow came in the same manner as before, looking to gouge out his life. Switching from an overhead stance to a swift blow, he blocked the second strike as well.

Striking out like a viper, the two aggressors fell under Rey’s blade. Grimacing slightly he braced for the next hurdle, a spear wielder like him.

When he killed a man for the first time, Rey couldn’t endure and broke down, vomiting on the spot he stood.

He didn’t even see the blade of the second man as he decapitated him in a fit of anger, the death of his comrade enraging him.

Only after a three cycles could he endure the bad feeling in his stomach, fighting the second man after deposing of the first.

With enough experience, he looked back at the past and wondered how he had ever been so green. Now it only took him three blows to take out the spear wielder, a green recruit much like himself.

Nonetheless, the toll from fighting to the death wasn’t easy to ignore. The sixth enemy Rey faced managed to get past his guard, his spear blade slicing along his arm. Trading a few more blows, the young soldier once again fell into the darkness, despairing at the pain coming from his wounds.

As before, he couldn’t stop himself from jumping in fright.

“Calm down mate, the enemy is not here yet. The day is still young.”

And the same cycle repeated, Reynolds not understanding what exactly happened. Did he go mad? Is he dead already? Is he just dreaming?

Forcing his apology to his seniors, he hurried off after clothing himself.

Instead of manning the wall, he hurried more to finish carrying the sandbags and apologized himself before Miguel spotted the enemy. Hurrying through the courtyard, he was almost in the inner keep when the shout informed the others of the incoming Seven Treasure Palace troops. Running into the keep itself, where the clan master and the elders resided, he disguised himself as a messenger, looking for the lord. With the appearance of the enemy, no one stopped him and he quickly arrived at the back gate, the place leading directly into Green Mountain.

“If I can’t fight for my life, I might as well run!”

The inner disciple guard didn’t even doubt Reynolds as he told him of the dire circumstances at the wall and hurried off with his Martial Warrior friend, a realm he never dreamed to achieve.

He knew it was shameful to run from a battle. The clan provided his village with food several times when the harvest was bad and never bullied them. Repaying kindness with reason was not what he believed in, only the pain of dying was far stronger than his honor at this point.

Exposing his back to the war cries and death throes, Rey ran off into the Green Mountain. He knew the path he was treading on wasn’t safe either. Strong monsters in the Martial Warrior and even in the Martial Elder realm presided in the different regions, which was the reason it was a treasure trove of materials and precious items.

However, he could hide here for a while and evade death. Only that counts.

For a whole day, he stared down at the city, watching as it got overrun by the attacking army and going up in flames.

Several times he had to stop himself from going down the mountain, helping the screaming and dying brothers.

In the end he had to forcefully tear himself away, hiding in a mountain cave. If he worked hard, maybe he could evade capture from the Seven Treasure Palace and escape this hell.

Slowly falling asleep, his heart almost tore him apart, the treason weighing on his mind.

Turning and twisting, Rey finally shot from his rest, the presence of a voice alarming him. Did they capture him already?

“Calm down mate, the enemy is not here yet. The day is still young.”

This time, the cold sweat only poured from his body after he heard the voice.

No escape. It didn’t make sense. He didn’t die this time yet he still appeared back in the barracks, time rewinded and he even changed places. What kind of sorcery was this?

“Sorry … I’m not really focused, my bad.”

Sitting on the bed and placing his head between his hands, Rey pondered all the information he had. If he fought, he would die. If he ran, he couldn’t escape. Fight and die or just return to the beginning. The fear almost drove him insane.

“Are you coming, kid? Today is the great day.”

Waiting for him at the door, Ben cut his ponderings short.

Unable to make a decision, Rey simply grunted in agreement, making a resolve in his heart.

Survive.

No matter the cost, he wanted to survive. If running wasn’t the solution to escape the endless cycle, maybe he could win the war between the Green Mountain Clan and the Seven Treasure Palace. Maybe he would resume his regular life then. Or maybe he would really wake up then. Maybe he didn’t fight the right escape method yet - in the end, did it really matter?

At least he would have to try. He didn’t lack time if his hunch was correct.

On the next try, he overcame five warriors, the sixth killed him again.

Then, he could kill him as well, only to die to a stray arrow.

Taking care of the sky, the seventh warrior should have been the end again, but his battle experience soared and only the ninth fighter once again pierced his heart with his spear.

Tired from the constant death experiences, he fled the barricades for three consecutive days before fighting the enemy again. To his surprise, his body remembered more and more from his previous experiences and even lost some of the baby fat remaining on him, replacing it with taut muscles.

Overcoming twelve consecutive fighters, Rey eventually bled out and woke up in his bed. By now, even death started to lose some of its gruesomeness.

Repeating the same actions over and over again, lugging away sandbags didn’t even feel tiring anymore and he finished the task long before the enemy showed up. Ready to face all adversaries, twenty warriors fell under his spear before they recognized as a force to be reckoned with and even Ben admired the prowess he showed, relieved of the pressure as Reynolds dispatched everyone as if he could predict the future.

Of course this wasn’t the case, the young warrior simply experienced the same scenario over and over again, no matter what he did.

By the time Rey was able to defeat a hundred enemies, he lost count how often he died. He also ran out of ideas how he would possibly escape, he either died by being spotted by the enemy, his own clan or woke up in the barracks after falling asleep.

Resolved to obtain absolute victory, he fought more and more valiantly, ignoring bodily harm and rushing to the front, wielding his wooden spear like a divine weapon.

“Why fear death if I can’t die? It’s just my body, dying hurts way more than some cuts.”

As if possessed, his experience grew and grew.

When he slew a thousand soldiers, the upper ranks started showing interest in the formidable young man and sent their inner disciples. Faced with adversaries in the Martial Warrior realm, he died even before he knew what hit him the first few times.

After experiencing the prowess of a superior warrior, he felt despair and waited for death in his bed. Of course this didn’t release him from his course and things reset again, the heads that just tumbled down returning to their owners as he found him at the beginning again.

Convincing himself of the necessity to prevail and reforging his resolve, he realised his advantage. After dying, his body healed to the best possible state, exactly to the time he woke up. His muscles grew after continuous exercise, why not increase his cultivation in the same way?

Ignoring the enraged looks of his seniors, Rey took out the ‘Green Revolving Manual’ he obtained when entering the Clan. His copy was exactly the same as the one all other guards had, no one expected them to show great results practicing it. After all, it was only a degraded version of a better law from the outer court placed inside the inner walls. Nonetheless, it was all he could get his hands on at the moment. Even under siege from the enemy, he couldn’t walk into the inner wall to search for a better law to practice.

Pondering the mysteries and intricacies of the book, Reynolds remained seated until a troop of enemy soldiers burst into the barracks, tying him up before executing him in the yard.

Not minding his death, he cultivated again as soon as he woke up again. Repeating the process, he lost count how often he died again. Rising from the first level of the Martial Disciple realm, all the way to the second and then third level, he finally made the breakthrough to the first level to the first level of the Martial Warrior realm. An unprecedented achievement for an outer guard, there weren’t even legends of some guard practicing the shabby martial art they were supplied with into the Martial Warrior realm.

Nonetheless, Rey didn’t feel proud about it. Cultivating in the face of death, it was not like a choice. He could do it or die. He might as well do it.

Facing the storming army after a lengthy period of cultivation, the young warrior stumbled as his martial skills rusted during this time. While his body didn’t degrade, actual combat was needed to hone his skills and he only meditated for a long period.

Ascending to a new cultivation realm, he soon managed to kill a thousand enemies once again. Normally, the power of his body soared after reaching a new level in cultivation. In Rey’s case, he had trained his reflexes and strength to the limit of a Martial Disciple. Only overcoming a border once didn’t improve his combat abilities by much, he shed his body many times to reach this height again.

Facing the Martial Warriors the Seven Treasure Palace brought this time, at least the young warrior could face them before getting decapitated. In the first clash, he did not even go with the expectation to win. Simply experiencing the full extent of a true Martial Warrior was enough for him.

Alternating between meditation, fighting and improving his body, the odds slowly improved in his fights against the elite of the enemy forces.

Normal warriors couldn’t even exchange blows with Rey anymore. As soon as they climbed the walls, they lost their heads. Slaughtering all blue and white armored foes as soon as they arrived, disregarding his body and all injuries he sustained, he resembled a god of death, pursuing greater heights in each instance. Two outcomes were acceptable. Either Rey succumbed to his wounds or the blade, or he would take the life of his adversaries. Nothing else mattered. 

Life lost meaning. Death lost meaning. Cultivation lost meaning. Only overcoming the next hurdle counted.

Eventually, Rey slew the last remaining Martial Warrior the Seven Treasure Palace brought. Riddled with deadly wounds, the remaining blue and white armored warriors were enraged, their heroes fell under the sword of a single enemy.

And Rey lost his head eventually as well.

Repeating his practice, he noticed an important detail in the repeated fights. While his wooden spear served him well, even after shattering time and time again, his enemies wielded treasure swords from their sect. Made of precious materials, their quality was simply superior.

If it was the immature Reynolds, this difference would probably upset him. Why did they receive treasures while he had to make do with a wooden stick? That naive young man was  long gone.

Splitting his time even more, he started to experiment with his wooden spear. How to block weapons without damaging the shaft. How he could effectively take care of enemies without reducing the weapon’s durability. How to reduce the strain on the wood.

Eventually, he headed for the forge of the clan as soon as the day started, reforging his own weapon.

At first, a crude metal shaft was all he could manage with the given time before enemies swarmed the yard containing the forge. Bashing their heads in, even his superior cultivation could not hold out with a subpar weapon.

Nonetheless, he didn’t switch his methods. Cultivating, fighting to the death, forging, pondering the ways of the spear, each attempt lasted until he died. What meaning did death hold if he woke up from it again and again? His very essentials slowly shifted towards a transcended philosophy. Life, death, the journey in between, to Reynolds, it was only an illusion, nothing real.

With time, his cultivation even neared the limit of the Martial Warrior realm. His forged spears neither bent or break under ten thousand blows and resembled work of arts more than mortal weapons.

Through thousands of life and death battles, his spear technique soared. And every time, he survived longer. Sometimes the day would end while he was still fighting an army, either alone or with survivors from the clan. At the time, the darkness would come to claim Rey anyway, returning him to the beginning.

With a final blow, the young warrior finally beheaded the last hostile warrior one day - or was it one life?

Expecting the release from the nightmare, he waited for the day to end.

And the darkness came again, to carry him away.

Dazedly sitting on his simple bunk bed, Reynolds once again waited for the soldiers to come, executing him in the yard like before.

Laughing like a madman, a single thought dominated him in the face of darkness.

“How to change the unchangeable?”