Chapter Twenty-Eight: Inheritance

"You sword cultivators always talk about verifying the Dao with your sword. Have you ever considered how a sword itself verifies the Dao?" The voice of the female sword spirit drifted on the night breeze.

"Verify what Dao?" Lin Fei gave his sword a light flick, his tone carrying a hint of defiance. "With a sword in my hand and a direction in my heart, even the Great Dao is nothing more than a single strike for me."

...

"What do you do if you encounter an opponent you cannot defeat?" the sword spirit continued.

"Run." Lin Fei’s answer was concise and direct.

"I thought you would say that sword cultivators only ever draw their swords against stronger foes," the sword spirit said, a trace of mockery in her voice.

"If I'm dead, what would I use to draw my sword? That is a very foolish question."

"Then how many times have you run before?"

"None."

"Why?"

"Because until now, no one has ever been able to defeat me."

...

"One last question: who is the Wood God?" the sword spirit asked once more.

"The Wood God is... hmm?" Lin Fei looked up, confirming she wasn't joking, then said, "Also a sword spirit, much stronger than you, but I haven't found them yet."

The sword spirit nodded, remaining silent.

Lin Fei smiled. "I am telling you the truth."

"I know, but I don't like the answers to your first and third questions."

"However, I like the answer to the second. If you can't win, you should run. That’s good, because I am very afraid of pain."

Lin Fei wore a peculiar expression, thinking to himself that it was fortunate he hadn't said the rest out loud: "One should run when they can't win, but in my eyes, there has never been anyone I couldn't defeat."

Ignoring his expression, the sword spirit remarked, "I know you are strong, because that person who died was very strong, but you appear to be even stronger than him."

Lin Fei replied, "If you knew that, why didn't you help me sooner?"

The sword spirit thought for a moment and said, "Because you are ugly."

Lin Fei took a deep breath, looked up at the sky, and stayed silent.

The sword spirit was quiet for a moment, then added softly, "Actually, not ugly. Just... not that good-looking."

The corner of Lin Fei's mouth twitched slightly. He changed the subject. "Then why did you choose to help me in the end?"

The sword spirit’s tone turned serious. "Because you complimented me on my appearance later."

Lin Fei felt a sense of helplessness. He gave a soft acknowledgment, thinking to himself that after all these years, he was indeed no longer suited for communicating with sword spirits.

The sword light flickered once more.

A slender figure slowly descended from the blade.

Lin Fei finally caught a glimpse of the sword spirit's true form. She looked quite young, with clear, bright eyes and long, vibrant red hair cascading loosely behind her shoulders. Within her pure black pupils seemed to dwell a faint white mist, as if she could perceive everything in the world.

"Stand up," the sword spirit said, looking at him with a degree of solemnity.

Lin Fei vaguely guessed what she was about to do. He shook his head and said, "I don't care for such empty formalities. There is no need."

The sword spirit stubbornly shook her head. With a gentle wave of her hand, Lin Fei’s body floated involuntarily, hovering about a meter off the ground.

"I have grown weary of this place, so I am very much looking forward to going out and seeing the world beyond," the sword spirit said, her voice filled with anticipation.

"But since you already have the sword spirit Wood God, I can only accompany you for ten years. What are your thoughts on this?"

"I have no objections."

"Good!" Upon hearing this, the sword spirit knelt on one knee.

The entire cliffside was completely enveloped in a brilliant white light.

Lin Fei slowly opened his eyes to find himself in a realm of profound darkness.

Directly in front of his chest, a faint white light began to coalesce. It twisted and transformed, eventually forming the shape of a tiny sword.

This sword of light hovered weightlessly before slowly drilling into the young man’s chest. Immediately after, a vertical white mark appeared between his brows, resembling a newly opened celestial eye.

The youth looked around, but there was nothing besides endless darkness.

A flash of nostalgia crossed his eyes, for he had experienced this scene once before.

This place was known as the Divine Consciousness Sword Court, a mysterious realm where humans and sword spirits undergo a spiritual inheritance. Initially, it was a state of chaos, and only by using one’s own strength to break through this chaos could one gain enlightenment.

To break through the chaos and undergo the sword spirit's inheritance was the most critical step.

But to break the chaos, one naturally needed a sword.

Lin Fei extended his right hand, as if to grasp something from the void.

In the darkness, a sliver of light, as faint as a grain of rice, began to gather in his palm. The light grew brilliant and intense, spreading from his palm to the surroundings until a shimmering sword of light, three feet in length, manifested in his hand.

The blade trembled slightly, emitting a dazzling radiance.

"Lin Fei, remember your promise," the sword spirit’s voice echoed in the darkness.

"Believe me, this is the most correct choice you have ever made."

Lin Fei gripped the hilt tightly, and suddenly, light burst forth from the heavens and earth, as if the entire world were being filled with brilliance.

...

Late at night, the silence at the foot of Sword Mound Mountain was broken by a sudden bustle.

The elders of the thirteen peaks arrived one after another, their presence signaling that an important selection was about to begin.

Disciples who obtained a sword spirit’s inheritance within Sword Mound Mountain were almost destined to become powerhouses of the Void-Breaking or even Saint realms in the future.

Naturally, no one wanted to miss such an opportunity to bolster the strength of their respective peaks.

Ye Xianghan stood upon a rock, expressionless, quietly observing her surroundings.

Feng Qian of the West Ridge Mountains appeared beside her, also silently gazing at the peaks, as if waiting for something.

As time passed, some disciples began to walk down the mountain. Many held nothing in their hands, their faces etched with disappointment.

Facing the gazes of those at the foot of the mountain, they lowered their heads in shame.

The scene was silent; no one mocked, and no one paid excessive attention, for such outcomes were not uncommon.

For decades, the number of disciples who could gain the recognition of an ancient sword on their first attempt could be counted on one hand.

Finally, a disciple descended the mountain holding a primitive, long sword. He was quickly intercepted by an elder from the Fallen Leaf Peak.

After a brief conversation, the disciple followed the elder, officially becoming a member of Fallen Leaf Peak.

Following this, more and more disciples descended. Their expressions varied; some were ecstatic, others utterly dejected.

The stewards of the various peaks began to step forward personally to select the disciples they favored.

Meanwhile, the elders of the four main peaks remained calm, their gazes locked firmly on the mountain peak.

During the biennial journey to the Sword Mound, while the four main peaks did not take in many disciples, every one they did recruit was a prodigy of exceptional talent.

...

Zhao Xiuyuan walked down from the foot of Sword Mound Mountain, his joy undisguised.

He clutched a crimson long sword, which emanated wisps of mist from its blade, making it appear mysterious and extraordinary.

Su Yueke, an elder of the South Mi Mountains, saw this and a flash of surprise crossed her eyes. "The Burning Heaven Divine Sword? That is a famous blade I haven't seen in many years."

Guan Shao of the West Ridge Mountains added, "Burning Heaven was once the sword of Senior Brother Wentian. Although this lad’s talent isn't top-tier, his luck today is truly excellent."

The elder from the East Ming Mountains merely smiled as he watched the scene, offering no opinion.

Finally, Gu Chuanqiong of the North Wanderer Mountains stepped forward. This was the first time one of the four main peaks had proactively recruited a disciple.

The other three elders maintained calm expressions, for Wentian had hailed from the North Wanderer Mountains; thus, it was only natural that the one who inherited his sword should also inherit his legacy and join the North Wanderer Mountains.

Amidst the envious gazes of the crowd, Zhao Xiuyuan bowed respectfully to Gu Chuanqiong.

The first disciple of the four main peaks had finally been born.