Otherworld, vast grasslands.

Tens of thousands of barbarian troops formed a five to six-kilometer-long line, advancing slowly.

Among the line, over a hundred giant beasts resembling Komodo dragons but several times larger, were particularly eye-catching. These beasts, on Earth, would undoubtedly be the largest land creatures.

The giant beasts carried mountain-like supplies on their backs, causing the ground to tremble slightly with each step.

Compared to other tribesmen who resembled wild men, these barbarians exhibited a much higher level of civilization, with primitive bows and shields appearing among their weapons. Most of the barbarians wore clothing woven from coarse vines instead of animal hides.

However, those wearing such clothing were of lower status among the barbarians.

Those who were priests or strong warriors still wore animal hides.

This is not surprising; wearing animal hides is much more comfortable than clothes woven from thorny vines, and at times, it symbolizes personal strength.

Moreover, the hides of some powerful beasts provided stronger defense, protecting one's life.

Even on Earth, a well-preserved animal hide would be more expensive than ordinary clothing.

Except for the restrictions caused by mysterious power, which prevented the development of metal weapons, this civilization was transitioning from primitive hunting tribes to feudal agrarian civilization.

...

At this moment, one of the giant beasts in the procession seemed to be attracted by a patch of tender grass by the roadside and suddenly veered off course. A small-statured barbarian who was following the giant beast hurriedly chased after it in fright.

He looked to be only fifteen or sixteen years old, with dark, thin skin, not even half the height of the giant beast. A single massive leg of the beast was as thick as his waist. As he desperately ran to catch up, he silently prayed.

"Great God of Courage above, please don't let anything happen!"

Although this giant beast was a herbivore and mostly gentle, it could be quite temperamental at times. Once provoked, it would be a disaster.

In fact, he wasn't the first beast tamer; three before him had been trampled to death by the beast in a fit of madness, their bodies reduced to pulp.

The giant beast trotted a few dozen meters and stopped in front of a patch of grass, snorted happily, spraying a mist, then lowered its head to graze.

The barbarian youth, huffing and puffing, arrived beside the giant beast. Seeing what the beast was eating, he immediately thought to himself, "This is bad."

It was a kind of thorny sour grass with sharp little thorns on its leaves, tasting sour. It was the brute beast's favorite food, and he himself occasionally nibbled on it as a snack when his mouth felt dry and tasteless.

If he stopped it from eating at this moment, the youth could already predict his fate: he would certainly end up like the previous tamers, trampled into a pile of pulp.

The brute beast flicked its tongue, rolling a large patch of thorny sour grass into its mouth; the sharp little thorns seemed to be of no concern to it.

Just then, a priest dressed in luxurious animal hides, holding a long whip, approached with an impatient expression.

Seeing this, the barbarian youth became anxious and hurriedly called out a few tentative cries, only to be met with a warning growl.

"Believer, what's happening?" the priest called out grimly from a distance.

The barbarian youth was so scared that he fell to the ground, stammering, "Pri… priest sir, it's the thorny… sour grass!"

The priest approached, glanced at the grass the giant beast was eating, instantly understood, and his expression softened. "May the Great God of Courage bless you, believer, rise. This is not your fault!"

Saying so, he silently recited the "Beast Taming Art," and a kind light quickly entered the brute beast's body.

The Beast Taming Art was the most basic of divine arts, not very effective on wild and untamed beasts, but it worked wonders on those already partly domesticated. The beast shook its head and stopped eating, following the priest back to the line.

The barbarian youth, head drooping, quickly followed.

"Believer, remember this is the last time!" The priest, driving the giant beast back to the procession, snapped back.

"Yes, priest sir." The barbarian youth hurriedly knelt down again on the grass and shouted loudly.

...

Chen Shouyi woke up naturally. As he opened his eyes, he felt refreshed, with the headache from before his nap completely gone.

The kerosene lamp in the bedroom was still lit. He looked at his watch; it was only half-past four.

He opened his status panel and a hint of joy flashed in his heart; his willpower had increased by 0.1 points.

After lying for a few more seconds, he sat up from the bed. Glancing around, he noticed the Shell Lady nearby, gleefully and tirelessly putting on and taking off clothes. Seeing the silly yet endearing smile on her small face, Chen Shouyi couldn't comprehend what joy she found in it.

Anyway, from childhood to adulthood, whenever his mother bought him a bunch of clothes and asked him to try them on, he never wanted to.

"Why aren't you sleeping yet?" Chen Shouyi asked.

Perhaps because she was too engrossed, the sudden voice startled the Shell Lady, and she only then noticed the giant had woken up. She patted her plump chest, "Oh, giant, you scared me!"

Then she sighed and said, "I haven't finished yet, I'm so tired today, and there's still one—one more piece of clothing I haven't tried on yet?"

"Alright, alright, keep busy!" Chen Shouyi said helplessly.

He picked up the sword and carefully felt his body's exertion in the bedroom.

His movements were gentle and smooth, his muscles flowing like mercury, each move as natural as thought.

For a "Martial Artist Entering Serenity" who had completed the body refining phase, controlling one's muscles became second nature. Even though he'd only practiced for about a month, the optimized swordsmanship was already well-understood, completely replacing the old, crude version.

On his swordsmanship level, it had already leaped to: Mastery: 12.

And it was still progressing rapidly.

Barely using any force on his feet, he hovered over the ground as if gliding forward over three meters, like a nimble swallow. His sword slid silently across a walnut clothing rack.

"Damn!"

Chen Shouyi snapped out of it, smacking his forehead.

Curse your itchy hands!

Seeing that half of the clothing rack was dropping to the ground under gravity, Chen Shouyi quickly stepped forward and caught it before it landed.

Just as Chen Shouyi was about to put it aside and continue his practice, a sudden dull sound came from outside.

It was like the distant rumble of thunder.

At first, Chen Shouyi didn't pay much attention, but soon the booming noises became more frequent, and before long, it sounded like boiling thick porridge, as if the whole world was rolling and shaking.

This was artillery fire!

And there had to be at least dozens, even hundreds of cannons firing together to create such a boiling porridge-like sound.

Chen Shouyi stood dumbfounded for a moment, then suddenly came to his senses, stepping forward to the window and quickly pulling back the thick floor-length curtains, but unfortunately, the distance was too dark, and he couldn't see anything.

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