I Can Extract Divine Power

The brush glides once across old silk, and the painted lady on the scroll seems to shiver.

Shen Bai has no business standing in a crumbling shrine in a dynasty that isn’t his own. Yesterday he was someone else, somewhere else. Today he wakes in an eerie realm where the gods have gone silent, the emperor’s banners are stained with smoke, and every alley whisper smells of blood and incense.

What he brings with him is a strange, stubborn gift: the Art of Appraisal.

A glance, a touch, and the truth of an object unfolds in his mind—along with the power sleeping inside it.

From a delicate *Lady Sword Dance Painting*, he draws out a fluid, deadly [Sword Dance Technique], the phantom music of clashing steel still ringing in his ears. A string of *Bloodstained Buddha Beads* gives up the brutal force of [Vajra Fist], each knuckle strike echoing temple bells long since cracked. A *Broken General Statue*, headless and forgotten in the dust, yields the cold precision of [Piercing Willow Arrow], like a winter wind aimed straight at the throat.

As the dynasty tears itself apart—courtiers plotting in shadowed corridors, cults digging for lost relics, generals praying to idols that never answer—Shen Bai walks the fault line between ruin and divinity, building his own arsenal from the leftovers of a vanished heaven.

Every treasure he appraises makes him stronger. Every power he claims paints a brighter target on his back. In a world where even the gods have abandoned their creations, a man who can strip the sacred from anything he touches becomes prize, threat, and heresy all at once.