novellaaa Chapter 20: Breaking Up
Chapter 20: Breaking Up
The black sword light lingered in the sky above the main peak of the Qingyun Sect for the duration of an incense stick burning.
Within the time it takes for an incense stick to burn, the entire Qingyun Sect trembled. Three fine cracks appeared on the stone tablet in the Sword Stele Plaza, each about an inch deep. The mountain-protecting formation activated on its own, and layers of sword light shone from the peaks of the nine mountains, enveloping the entire mountain range in a chilling blue light. All disciples were ordered to remain where they were and not to move. The outer disciples, unaware of what was happening, could only see the sea of clouds above the main peak, now stained black; while the inner disciples—especially those who had previously attempted to draw their swords—understood what that black sword light meant. The sword in the center of the Ancient Sword Platform, sealed for three thousand years, had recognized its master.
The news of Duan Nian's emergence spread throughout the entire inner sect within the time it takes to drink half a cup of tea. The messenger lowered his voice, the listeners gasped, and then they all asked the same question in unison—who is it?
Deep within the Sword Tomb lies the Ancient Sword Platform.
Ling Chen knelt on one knee on the cracked stone platform, his right hand gripping the cold hilt of the Duan Nian sword as he slowly rose. The sword was entirely black, devoid of any luster, with fine cracks faintly visible near the hilt—hidden wounds left from the war between gods and demons ten thousand years ago. At that time, the sword servant had used all his strength to unleash a final strike to intercept demonic energy, the sword colliding head-on with the power of the Demon Lord, nearly shattering on the spot. Duan Nian, with its cracks, sealed itself for three thousand years; now, although the seal had been broken, the old wound remained.
"Can these cracks be repaired?"
Mo Lao paused for a moment: "Yes. But we need to gather the other two Servant Swords—Frostbite of the Ice Servant and Skyburn of the Flame Servant. Only when the three swords resonate can the hidden wounds from that battle be completely healed."
Ling Chen didn't ask any more questions. He looked down at the Broken Thoughts in his hand, his face reflected on the blade, overlapping for a moment with the smiling face of the white-clad girl in his hallucination. He remembered Jian Xuan's words before he left—the sword servant's inheritance is in the Sword Tomb; find it and bring it out. Now the Broken Thoughts was in his hands, but this sword gave him a feeling that went far beyond "an ancient sword that recognized its master." The sword intent, memories, and emotions sealed within the blade far exceeded the scope of a weapon. The sword servant had sealed all his learning, understanding, and feelings into this sword; the inheritance had begun the moment he grasped the hilt.
He simply didn't have time to sit down and slowly comprehend it. The commotion caused by the emergence of the Severed Thoughts was too great; the entire Sword Tomb trembled, and the surrounding mist swirled rapidly around the Ancient Sword Platform, forming a massive grayish-white vortex. Such a commotion couldn't be hidden from anyone. It wouldn't be long before someone found this place.
Ling Chen sheathed Duan Nian back into the makeshift scabbard at his waist and bent down to pick up the Po Jun Dao from the edge of the stone platform. Then he noticed something—the eight guardian swords surrounding the ancient sword platform hadn't scattered as he'd expected. They remained planted in their places, their light mostly dimmed, but their sword intent was still there, only no longer hostile towards him. After the seal was broken, the sword intent of these eight guardian swords had changed from "repulsion" to "protection," as if at the same time Duan Nian recognized him as its master, these eight ancient swords that had protected him for three thousand years had also acknowledged him.
"Although these eight protective swords are not the swords of the attendants, they are the remnants of righteous sword cultivators who perished on the battlefield between gods and demons ten thousand years ago. Although the sword spirits are incomplete, the sword intent of each one is sharp enough. Keeping them may be useful in the future."
The eight ancient swords hummed in unison, as if responding to his words.
Elder Mo couldn't help but sigh, "In your past life, you wielded swords, and all swords returned to their origin. In this life, even the protective array of the Sword Tomb is eager to acknowledge you as its master. Put them away; they have waited three thousand years, waiting not only for the severing of their ties, but also for you."
Ling Chen was somewhat troubled. Taking nine swords out alone, not to mention their weight, the mere clash of sword energies would be enough to tear his storage bag to shreds.
After a moment of contemplation, Elder Mo instructed, "Put the eight protective swords into the Myriad Dao Returning to the Void Diagram. The diagram is a world unto itself, and it can easily accommodate several ancient swords. Keep Duan Nian with you—it has just recognized you as its master and needs to come into contact with your aura to refine its sword intent."
With a thought, Ling Chen slowly unfurled the Myriad Dao Returning to Nothingness Diagram within his dantian. The eight protective swords transformed into eight streams of light of different colors, disappearing into the diagram and quietly hovering in their respective corners within its space. He picked up the scabbard of the Broken Thought Sword—the scabbard was so decayed that only a few iron filings remained—torn off a strip of cloth from his robe and wrapped it around the blade several times. Just as he was about to return the way he came, he suddenly stopped.
The Eye of Truth detected a faint, almost imperceptible demonic aura drifting from the west. It was so faint that it was almost completely masked by the rusty smell and sword intent within the Sword Tomb. However, having had the Shadow Demon General's aura recorded in the Myriad Paths Returning to Ruins Diagram, he was extremely sensitive to this fluctuation, like someone bitten by a snake who could smell its stench from ten steps away.
Someone has arrived. And they're not from the Qingyun Sect. At least, not a normal Qingyun Sect disciple.
"The aura of the Shadow Demon General?" Ling Chen asked in his mind.
"...It's him." Old Master Mo's voice deepened.
Ling Chen drew the Broken Thought. A faint blue light emanated from the black sword, as his own chaotic spiritual power merged with the sword's body, blending with the remaining sword intent of his sword servant. Holding the hilt in his hand, he could feel subtle pulses, like a heartbeat, or like breathing.
"Sever all ties, the first battle in three thousand years—we stand shoulder to shoulder."
The black blade emitted a clear, melodious sword cry, as if it were laughing.
The hissing sound of a sharp blade cleaving through the mist grew louder as it approached. A tall, slender figure emerged slowly from the gray fog, a thin, gossamer-like sword in his right hand, its tip touching the ground, leaving a long, thin gash. The soil on either side of the gash silently turned black.
It is Liu Yuan.
He was third in the inner sect, at the late stage of the Condensation Realm. Last year, he almost crippled a fellow disciple in the Sword Tomb and was personally dragged out by Jian Xuan. At this moment, he appeared alone near the Ancient Sword Platform. The spiritual energy fluctuations on his soft sword were completely different from any sword cultivator he had ever seen before—cold, sticky, like chilling air seeping from the ground.
When Liu Yuan saw the Severing Thoughts Sword in Ling Chen's hand, a hint of surprise flashed in his eyes, but it was quickly replaced by even greater interest.
"I've guarded this sword for two years. If Jian Xuan hadn't discovered it last year, I'd be here already. You've only been an inner disciple for half a month, yet you've managed to make it recognize you as its master. I underestimated you." His tone was calm and deliberate, as if analyzing a math problem. "Did you use some special method? Or is it that—the sword that serves as the Sword Servant only recognizes the aura of a Celestial Venerable?"
Ling Chen did not answer. He gripped the sword hilt tightly, his chaotic spiritual power surging through his meridians, and the Myriad Paths Returning to Nothingness Diagram in his dantian had already locked onto Liu Yuan's demonic energy characteristics.
"I've always been curious about something. Since you were able to attract Su Qingyuan's attention, you must have something special about you. I've also been to Qingzhou, and I know why those idiots in the Blood Fiend Sect were wiped out. But I'm not one of those idiots—I never need anyone to answer my questions."
Liu Yuan raised his soft sword, the tip pointing directly at Ling Chen's heart.
"I will cut it open myself to see."
As soon as he finished speaking, the soft sword transformed into a black streak, silently slicing through the air. There was no sword wind, no sound of air being cut; the entire sword was like a venomous snake lurking in the shadows, striking with deadly precision, its silence sending chills down one's spine. The speed of this sword strike far exceeded the limits of the Qi Gathering Realm; even with Ling Chen pushing his Eyes of Truth to their limit, he could only catch a blurry trajectory. He used his Instant Shadow Step to its limit to dodge to the side, the black soft sword grazing his shoulder, silently cutting a gash in his robes. The broken fibers of the fabric immediately turned black and curled, as if corroded by something.
It wasn't the most basic corrosive sword energy of the Shadow Demon Technique, but its toxicity was enough to invade the meridians the moment it came into contact with flesh and blood.
Ling Chen swung his sword diagonally with a backhand motion, the azure sword light on the Broken Thought Sword transforming into a crescent-shaped sword aura, aiming straight for Liu Yuan's waist and abdomen. Liu Yuan let out a soft exclamation. He dodged the sword aura to the side, and as the azure light grazed his robes, it collided with his protective demonic energy, producing a slight sizzling sound—a small piece of his demonic energy was absorbed.
"Interesting. The power of chaos really can devour demonic energy. The ancient records are true." Liu Yuan's interest grew stronger, but his tone remained unhurried. "It seems that the information Meng Hu gave before his death was not wrong about you. The Myriad Paths Returning to the Void Diagram is indeed on you."
He ceased his probing. His soft sword drew an arc before him, billowing black energy emanating from its blade, condensing into a massive black sword aura in the air, its intensity far surpassing any of his previous attempts. His specialty was corrosive sword intent, which specifically targeted and pierced protective spiritual energy. Ling Chen parried with his sword, the Blade of Severance trembling violently. The cracks that had appeared during the great war between gods and demons ten thousand years ago were torn open even deeper upon direct collision with Liu Yuan's corrosive demonic energy.
A hint of smugness flashed in Liu Yuan's eyes: "So there are old wounds on the sword. It hasn't been repaired in ten thousand years? That's perfect—the Nine Heaven-Splitting Slashes requires an absolutely stable sword body, and your sword won't last until that slash is unleashed."
Whether you can hold on or not is not up to you.
Ling Chen gritted his teeth, pouring his chaotic spiritual power into the Severing Thoughts Sword without restraint. Every crack on the sword was filled with azure-gold light, and at the same time, the Myriad Dao Returning to Nothingness Diagram in his dantian suddenly unfolded. The eight protective swords stuck on the stone platform sensed the Heavenly Venerable's decree-like will within the diagram, and behind Ling Chen, they roared in unison, transforming into eight sword lights of different colors that soared into the sky.
Crimson flames, frost, lightning patterns, thick earth... eight colors of sword light intertwined to form a sword net, carrying the sword intent that had been buried for three thousand years, and descended upon Liu Yuan.
"Eight swords protecting their master? You can even mobilize the ancient swords of the Sword Tomb—a reincarnation of the Celestial Venerable, you really shouldn't have stayed any longer."
Liu Yuan's expression changed slightly. He raised his soft sword, and the black sword energy collided head-on with the eight-colored sword light. With a deafening roar, the grayish-white mist was blasted into a hole several tens of feet in diameter. Shattered sword light scattered like a torrential rain, creating countless holes in the stone platform and the surrounding ground. The eight protective swords flew back to Ling Chen's side simultaneously, their light dimming slightly. Liu Yuan staggered back five steps before regaining his footing. A section of his sword robe was torn off his right arm, revealing a very faint blue mark at the cuff—the mark left by one of the protective swords.
He didn't gain any real advantage, but Ling Chen didn't gain much either. The full force of the sword's attack only forced him back five steps, and launching such an offensive greatly depleted Ling Chen's spiritual power and divine sense. His gaze passed over Ling Chen's shoulder to several figures faintly visible in the mist in the distance—after the Sword Tomb trembled, the other disciples were rushing towards this direction. If they lingered any longer, their identities would be exposed.
"I'll remember this sword strike for now."
Liu Yuan sheathed his sword, his figure disappearing swiftly into the depths of the gray mist like an ink droplet merging into water. Before the mist closed in, he uttered his final words: "Five days remain in the trial. Within five days, the cracks in the Severed Will will deepen. At that time, I won't need to lift a finger; it will shatter on its own. A sword servant inheritor who has lost his natal sword—guess how many demon generals the Demon Lord will send to capture you?"
The sound vanished. Ling Chen knelt on one knee, Duan Nian supporting himself on the ground, panting heavily. He looked down at the sword—the crack on the spine where Liu Yuan had struck him head-on had deepened, expanding from a hair's breadth to the width of a spider web. The deepest part of the crack was trembling slightly; if two more attacks of the same intensity were to strike, Duan Nian might truly shatter.
He gritted his teeth, stood up, and gripped the broken heart tightly in his hand.
"You won't break."
The black blade trembled slightly, as if in response.
He tore off another piece of his robe and carefully wrapped it three times around the crack, then looked up in the direction Liu Yuan had disappeared. The trial had five days left; Liu Yuan would never give up so easily. He had to find the Sword Servant's inheritance within those five days to repair the hidden damage to the sword—even if only temporarily. Only then would he have the strength to face the next wave of attacks.