In front of me there is the image of a wooden town burning to the ground. The stench of burning flesh and smoke fills the air. Wails and cries of despair combine to make a cocophony in my ears. There are humans whose hands are chained all around and I stare in wonder. What the hell? Where am I?

*Crack!* Another whip hits me on the back. Shrugging off the pain I turn around to see the bastard who keeps on whipping me. There in front of me was a blob of iron, maybe three feet tall, a black tendril withdrawing into a hole on its side. This thing has been hitting me?

"Hisssssss"

The damn blob hissed at me. What the hell is going on? A black tendril extends and points towards the setting sun where all the other chained humans seem to be walking. I try breaking the bindings around my hands apart with brute force, but I'm rewarded with stinging pain and intact cuffs. My body feels extraordinarily weak, like I was near death. Fighting right now does not seem promising, so I turn and begin walking towards the direction of the setting sun. A line of iron covered black blobs surrounds the column of humans.

We walked for hours and arrived in a forest under the cover of night. The column of humans begin sitting down and the blob soldiers on either side spread out to keep a perimeter. I wearily plonk myself onto the ground and begin checking the state of my body. The results are insightful but horrendous.

This is not my body. Everything is wrong, the veins, muscles, all of it. It also appears that I've been starving for weeks, which explains the debilitating weakness. The iron covered blobs, the four moons hanging in the sky. It looks like I'm in a different world. Who knows how I got here? First my soul experienced an amazing transformation, and now I'm being taken into slavery by blobs.

Fantastic, I've always loved traveling anyway. A smile comes across my face and the people near me inch away.

Now that we've settled down, its time to begin my strengthening. By circulating the energy of the soul through the body, it would become stronger and more in tune with the soul which allows for greater control. This cultivation would allow for superhuman feats, such as throwing a one ton rock. I directed my new soul energy to begin circulation.

The energy was much more potent than imagined; it rebuilt muscle and bone at a rate at least five hundred times faster than when I cultivated in my previous life. Energy rushed through and reinvigorated this starved body. This cultivation was extraordinary!

The power in my soul had increased the limits on my body significantly. The quality of soul factored heavily in the strength of a body and was called "talent" in my old world. Those with weak souls were destined to be weaker than others with stronger souls.

Now my soul has rocketed up in strength. If my old body was iron at the peak of its cultivation, then my new one would be like magically enhanced dragon scales. However, all things have a foundation.

The foundation of swordsmanship is based in the control and strength of the body. I'm in a completely new body with a completely new strength and if I'm not careful, I might kill myself with this strength. Imagine gaining superhuman strength and then putting too much pressure on one of your arms in the wrong way, ripping it off.

I'm going to train until there is no more room for improvement before escaping and searching for information about everything.

When the darkest part of night comes, I begin my training regime to familiarize myself with my body, a variety of calisthenics and fighting shadows of enemies long vanquished.

Inevitably, the day came and our column of humans began marching once again through the forest. On the march to wherever we were going, I learned of a new problem. It appears I have no idea what language the other humans are speaking.

A human behind me looks at me curiously and whispers to another person beside him, "Hazrag ful keer val..." The other person nods in agreement.

Sigh... I'll cross that bridge when I come to it.

In no time at all we advanced into a plains area, filled with golden grass and three eyed birds flying through the air. A long highway stretched as far as the eye could see.

Another night passed with training and another chunk of cultivation. I could at least lift a hundred pound rock with one hand now, a far cry from my previous weakness.

Another day of marching passed in this sea of grass and at the end of the day we saw the first signs of civilization. What looked like six legged cows grazed the fields outside of farmsteads and black blobs tended to their fields of golden grain. There was even one wearing a circular straw hat atop its blobiness. A stone fort came into view.

This time we slept outside as usual, but most of the soldiers had gone into the fort. Maybe they had barracks. More training and cultivation passed me through the night, the energy from my cultivation made sleeping unnecessary. I could lift two hundred pounds with one hand now. This rate of improvement is amazing, even for a master like myself.

We left the fort in the morning after the blobs threw rough bread at us. I gave my bread to a nearby child, my cultivation could support me more than food ever could. The child who got my bread ran off with a big grin. A little warmth appeared in my heart. All things would improve in the future, but this is not the time to act.

In the late afternoon after quite a few miles, we finally reached what looked like a major area. A midnight black fortress stood there and the twenty meter tall black gates opened to reveal a dreary inside. The human column filed inside and a multitude of hisses came from the black blobs on the sides of the streets.

We came to a building and were questioned by a black blob on a podium one at a time.

"Hisssss?", I stared at it.

Most were filed into the a group on the right, including me, and some were filed into group on the left. My group was led to a large bowl shaped depression in the stone with paths in the edges and what looked like tunnels in the sides. We all filed up and grabbed a mining pick from several wooden carts at the top of the bowl.

I had no idea what the hell to do, so I picked a spot near another miner and began picking at the wall with a strength I toned down to what they would think are more normal levels. More physical work would just let me gain more fine tune control over my body and I welcomed it.

The atmosphere was dark and depressing, the sound of crying was commonplace. All of the people here had dim eyes as if they had lost all hope. I observed it all.

All of the miners turned in for the night and slept in crowded huddles on the floor, attempting to share warmth in the cold darkness. I diligently trained and soon enough morning came again.

I picked up my mining pick and went to my previous place in the quarry to start another day.