The Accidental Cultivator

The boy tilted his head ever so slightly, the fire reflecting off his obsidian mask like a second sun.

"I'll remember your name… before I crush it."

Aryan didn't answer.

He couldn't.

His body was already aching, screaming at him from every joint, every tendon. He was running purely on instinct now—his fists were bruised, his stance unbalanced, and yet… his feet stepped forward again.

"Come on, then," he muttered through his teeth. "Let's see how much you remember with a broken jaw."

The masked boy didn't even blink.

He vanished—and reappeared in front of Aryan mid-sentence.

THWACK!

A crushing blow to Aryan's jaw snapped his head sideways. He staggered, and before he could react—

CRACK!

A knee slammed into his gut, lifting him off the ground. Spit flew from his mouth as he gasped for air.

He hit the dirt like a ragdoll.

But still… he got up.

"System," Aryan coughed, blood staining his teeth. "I could use a little help."

System:

"You're doing great. For a guy who thinks boxing footwork can match chakra-enhanced murder art."

Aryan snarled and charged again, swinging a right hook that might've knocked out a normal opponent.

The masked boy caught it mid-swing.

And squeezed.

POP!

Aryan screamed. His wrist bent the wrong way—dislocated, shattered.

Then came another strike to the ribs.

CRUNCH.

Something broke. Maybe two somethings.

He collapsed, rolling across the ground, choking on dust and blood. His fingers clawed weakly at the dirt as the masked boy strolled closer, calm as ever.

System:

"Warning: Internal damage critical. Rib fracture. Blood loss at 22%. Left forearm—useless. Chakra core unstable."

"This fight is now classified as: Unwinnable."

Aryan groaned, blinking through blood. The world spun.

The masked boy knelt beside him. "You tried. That's rare. Most scream. Beg. You didn't."

He tilted his head. "But I break bones, not spirits. So let's fix that."

His fingers reached toward Aryan's throat.

System Trigger: Passive Skill Unlocked.

New Skill Acquired: #Another Chance#

Type: Passive – Regenerative

Description: When the host is on the verge of death, this skill triggers automatically. Consumes 10% of real chakra reserves. Can regenerate even fatal wounds—including missing limbs and crushed organs.

Warning: Pain will not be reduced. You will feel everything.

Aryan's eyes snapped open red glowing faintly.

Then came the fire.

Not the fire of rage, or power.

It was raw pain. White-hot agony as bones cracked back into place, blood vessels re-formed, muscle fibers stitched together with chakra threads.

His scream ripped through the village ruins.

AAAAARGHHHHHH!

The masked boy stepped back, eyes narrowing scared that boy might becoming even more powerful or getting some kind of transformation.

Aryan's spine arched as his broken ribs reshaped. His twisted wrist crunched, reset, and sealed with a pulse of chakra. Bruises vanished. Torn flesh wove itself closed.

He coughed. Once. Then sat up—shaking.

The System's voice returned calm, cruelly cheerful:

System:

"Congratulations. You are now one of the few idiots to survive a skull-busting chakra beating through sheer spite and illegal regeneration."

Aryan looked up at the masked boy, his body screaming from inside—healed, yes, but completely drained.

He panted heavily, voice hoarse.

"…Round two?"

The boy didn't answer.

But for the first time…

He looked curious.

Aryan stood, barely. His body steamed, blood gone, bones healed, but his stamina was drowning in the aftermath of Another Chance. His breaths came ragged, each step feeling like he was walking on fire.

The masked boy tilted his head slightly. "You're healing now? Interesting."

Then, without warning—

WHAM!

A palm strike cracked into Aryan's sternum, hurling him backward like a cannonball. He slammed into a mud wall of already collapsed house, cratering it on impact.

Before he could even slide down—

SWOOSH!

The masked boy appeared behind him in mid-air and drove a foot into his spine.

Aryan hit the ground face-first, coughing blood again.

System:

"Well, that lasted five seconds. New record for 'Shortest Comeback Ever.' Want a participation trophy?"

Aryan growled through gritted teeth and tried to stand. His body shook, every muscle refusing to obey.

The masked boy landed calmly, like a dancer after a routine. "I was going to kill you quickly," he said, brushing ash off his cloak. "But now… I want to see how much you can take."

Then came the onslaught.

A brutal, unrelenting barrage of kicks, elbows, and pressure-point strikes.

Aryan blocked what he could, deflected what he recognized, but most of it—

BAM!

—landed squarely.

CRACK!

—shattered ribs again.

THUD!

—drove his face into the ground like a hammer hitting wet clay.

It wasn't a fight.

It was a demonstration.

Of power.

Of control.

Of humiliation.

And all Aryan could do…

…was breathe.

Until—

System:

"Hey, bro. Quick idea. You know that giant chakra core you have but don't use properly because you're a walking disappointment?"

Aryan coughed blood, barely upright. "N-Now's not the time—"

System:

"Wrong. Now is exactly the time. Can you gather some chakra? Just a little? 100% would be nice. For science."

Aryan blinked. His vision doubled. But his instincts screamed.

So he focused.

He closed his eyes… and pulled.

From within.

And the chakra responded.

Not like a trickle.

But like a dam breaking.

It surged up through his legs, his core, his lungs—boiling, rushing, snapping through his veins like liquid lightning.

System Notice:

Skill Triggered: Chakra Overload

Current Capacity: 92%

Warning: Vessel Integrity Compromised. Stop right now if you like having a skeleton.

Aryan's fingers dug into the ground. His chakra cracked the stones beneath him.

The masked boy paused, one eyebrow raising behind the obsidian mask.

Aryan's eyes snapped open glowing a blinding electric white.

His body spasmed.

His nose twitched.

System Notice:

Skill Triggered: Chakra Overload

Current Capacity: 100%

Warning: release excess chakra through any means possible or you will be blown up and this time regeneration will be 10,000% painful.

System:

"Oh, gods. Wait—wait—DON'T—"

ACHOO!!!

The sneeze wasn't normal.

It wasn't human.

It was a chakra-ignited explosive blast from deep within his overloaded body.

BOOOOOOOOM!!!

A pulse of white-hot chakra tore through the entire battlefield like a divine shockwave. The ground split open. The trees ahead of him were incinerated. A wall of air crushed outward in every direction.

The masked boy didn't even get time to move.

He was obliterated in mid-step.

The sound was deafening. A thunderclap from the heavens.

And when the dust cleared…

Nothing remained.

No blood.

No bones.

Just a scorched crater and in middle of that crater, a perfect conditioned Black Cloak, and a single Obsidian Mask.

Aryan lay at the center of it all, smoking like charcoal, eyes wide in disbelief.

System:

"…You weaponized a sneeze. You absolute lunatic."

He coughed and his nose bleeding from the explosion he caused, his vision dazed. "Did I… win?"

System:

"Win? You nuked the battlefield with your nose. What are you, a walking chakra bomb?"

Aryan let his head fall back, laughing weakly through burned nose and lips. "Told you… I was holding back."

System:

"Yeah, I was seeing that when he was beating you like a humanized punching bag all over the field"

Aryan chuckles and replies "Yeah, but still Victory was mine in the end"

System:

"Well, no doubt in that my Psycho"

Aryan slowly sat up in the center of the scorched crater, his body screaming but still intact. Smoke drifted lazily into the evening air. The earth was cracked, the trees were gone, and silence finally reigned.

He looked around.

Nothing remained of the masked boy.

Except—

The obsidian mask, lying in perfect condition but eerily untouched, glinting softly in the ashes.

And the black cloak, magically fine but somehow still pulsing with residual chakra.

Aryan crawled over and picked up the mask, turning it over in his hands.

It was cold. Heavy. And strangely comforting.

He stared at it for a second…

Then pressed it to his face.

Click.

It fit perfectly.

As if it was made for him.

His reflection shone in a piece of glass formed by intense heat in sand because of his explosion nearby—a wild-haired teen, shirtless and bruised, now wearing the same terrifying mask as his enemy. But on him, it looked different. Regal. Feral. Right.

System:

"Wow. You went from village idiot to final boss in five seconds. Not bad."

Aryan chuckled. "Feels good. Like I just leveled up in coolness."

Then he reached down for the black cloak.

As his fingers brushed its surface, he felt a strange pull—like falling inward.

A flash of energy sparked.

And suddenly, he wasn't just holding a cloak.

He was holding a spatial storage cloak.

A ripple spread through the fabric as he realized what he was sensing—a massive internal chamber folded into the cloth. A hidden dimension, ten meters wide and ten meters deep.

System Alert:

"Artifact Identified: Cloak of the Hollow Vault"

— Bound Spatial Inventory Activated

— Total Internal Space: 100 Cubic Meters

— Previous Owner: Aditya Raj 

System:

"Poor Aditya faced a calamity instead of a fair fight"

Aryan pouted angrily, 'you didn't interfere while I was getting beaten up like a dog huhhh....'

System:

"Because I was enjoying that and you were clearly a broken destiny person"

"Well, that's true" He ignores system's yapping and checks the cloak and Aryan's jaw dropped. "It's... a freakin' wardrobe dimension."

He shoved a nearby burning stick into the cloak experimentally—it vanished inside.

He yanked it back out.

Still burning.

Still real.

Aryan blinked.

Then grinned.

Then cackled.

A deep, unhinged laugh burst from his chest, echoing across the ruined battlefield.

"HAHAHAHAHA—THIS IS AWESOME!! A MASK THAT LOOKS SICK! A CLOAK BAG THAT'S A WHOLE ROOM! I'M THE COOLEST DAMN MONSTER ALIVE!"

He threw his arms wide, standing in the middle of ruin like a newly crowned warlord.

System:

"Oh no. He's gone full maniac."

Aryan spun, still laughing, cloak billowing behind him, mask gleaming in the firelight.

"Let the next guy try me! I've got loot now!"