The blue light of the monitor was the only thing keeping Raki Rubyant awake. It was 3:00 AM. His eyes were bloodshot, tracing lines of code that felt like a digital prison.
"Raki! Why is the project not finished? I told you, I want it on my desk by Monday!" his manager's voice echoed in his head—the same man who had dumped a mountain of administrative files on his desk yesterday. Files that weren't even a programmer's job.
Raki sighed, his stomach churning from too much cheap coffee and not enough food. He looked at his paycheck notification on his phone. Deducted again. No overtime pay, just more penalties for "slow progress."
"What a life," he whispered, shutting down his computer. All he had to comfort him were the Murim webnovels he read during his ten-minute lunch breaks. He dreamed of the Heavenly Demon, of the Mount Hua Sect, of a world where strength decided one's fate, not a greedy manager in a suit.
The Trap and The Betrayal
The morning air was cold as Raki walked home. His legs felt like lead. That was when he heard it—a muffled scream from a dark alley.
He saw them: four thugs surrounding a girl. She looked terrified, no older than eighteen, clutching her bag. Raki wasn't a hero, but his heart wouldn't let him walk away.
Remember the breathing technique from the 'Azure Sword' novel, he thought, half-joking, half-desperate. He had spent his few free hours practicing the movements he read about.
"Let her go!" Raki shouted.
The fight was a blur. To his surprise, the physical drills he'd mimicked from his novels actually worked. His movements were fluid, his strikes precise. He knocked the breath out of the first two and swept the legs of the third. The fourth retreated, but then... he started laughing.
"Check your back, hero," the thug sneered.
A cold, sharp pain blossomed in Raki's lower back. He gasped, looking down to see a jagged blade protruding from his stomach. He turned, eyes wide. The "innocent" girl was standing there, her face no longer fearful, but twisted in a cruel smirk.
"Thanks for the distraction, loser," she spat.
They pushed him. Raki stumbled back, his boots slipping on the wet asphalt, right into the path of the morning freight truck.
Is this it? he thought as the blinding headlights consumed his vision. Betrayed by the very kindness I tried to show?
A New Breath: The Forest of Shadows
Drip. Drip.
Raki opened his eyes. Everything was too big. The grass felt like tall bushes, and the air smelled of ozone and ancient earth. He tried to stand, but his balance was off. His hands... they were tiny. Soft.
Where am I? What happened to the truck?
GROOOAR!
The ground shook. A massive, green-skinned creature with a single tusk and a stench of rotting meat stepped into the clearing. An Ogre.
Raki froze. But before the beast could strike, a blur of silver fur intercepted it. A giant wolf, its fur matted with blood, fought the Ogre with suicidal ferocity. It was protecting something—a den nearby.
The wolf was losing. The Ogre's club smashed into its ribs, sending the silver beast crashing near Raki's feet.
In that moment, Raki felt something warm swirling in his chest. It wasn't the cold code of a programmer; it was a current of energy. Mana. But his mind didn't process it like a mage. He processed it like a martial artist.
Circulate the Qi... focus the flow to the fingertips.
He picked up a fallen branch. It was sharp, broken at an angle.
Raki didn't run. The little girl's body moved with the soul of a man who had nothing left to lose. He lunged, not with a clumsy swing, but with the 'Phantom Step' technique he had memorized a thousand times.
He was a shadow. A tiny, lethal shadow.
The Dance of the Branch
The Ogre roared, a sound that rattled Raki's new, smaller ribcage. To the beast, she was just a snack. To Raki, this was his first real trial.
Flow like the river, strike like the lightning, Raki whispered the mantra of the 'Cloud-Stepping Sword' technique.
He didn't have a steel blade, but his tiny fingers channeled the strange, warm energy—Mana—into the wooden branch. The tip glowed with a faint, sharp light. As the Ogre swung its massive club, Raki didn't retreat. He slid under the beast's legs, his small frame an advantage now.
Thrust!
The branch pierced the Ogre's ankle. The beast stumbled. Raki didn't stop; he used the Ogre's own knee as a stepping stone, leaping into the air. With a spin that defied gravity, he drove the sharp wood straight into the Ogre's throat.
The giant gurgled, blood spraying the grass, before crashing down like a fallen oak tree. Silence returned to the forest.
The Transformation of Valia
Raki panted, his small heart drumming against his chest. He turned to the silver wolf. She was dying, her breathing shallow, her silver fur soaked in crimson.
"Don't die... please," Raki murmured. He reached out, his small hands glowing. He didn't know "Healing Magic," but he knew the 'Internal Energy Circulation' used to mend broken meridians.
He pressed his palms against the wolf's wound. He imagined the Mana as a soft thread, sewing the torn flesh back together.
Suddenly, a blinding silver light erupted from the wolf's body. The fur began to recede, the bones shifted and cracked with a rhythmic sound. Within seconds, the wolf was gone. In her place lay a woman with long, silver hair and ears that twitched like a predator's. She was beautiful, dressed in tattered furs, but her eyes were filled with pain.
"You... a human child?" the woman gasped, her voice like velvet. She looked at Raki, then at the dead Ogre. She saw the way the child held the branch—like a master swordsman.
A New Identity: Rany Rubyant
The woman struggled to sit up, her wound miraculously closed. She looked at Raki's tattered clothes—the remains of his modern office shirt, now oversized and ruined.
"You saved me, Little One," she said softly. "I am Valia, a guardian of this forest. What is your name?"
Raki hesitated. Raki Rubyant didn't fit this body. He was no longer the overworked programmer. He looked at his reflection in a nearby puddle: a girl with striking eyes and a face that held a wisdom far beyond five years.
"Raki..." he started, then paused. He wanted a fresh start. A life where he wasn't stepped on. "My name is... Rany. Rany Rubyant."
Valia smiled, reaching out to brush a strand of hair from Rany's face. "A strange name, but a strong one. From this day, Rany, you are under the protection of the Silver Pack. But with the power you just showed... I suspect it is I who should be honored to walk beside you."
Rany looked at her small, pale hands. The programmer was dead. The swordsman of the new world was born.