The shouts erupted from the comrades of the man at his feet.
Faces etched with rage, they charged. But the boy didn’t move. He left the sword buried in the dead man’s back, his glare fixed solely on the Master of the Myriad Blade Pavilion.
Whether I die now or later, what’s the difference?
It was the day he had learned the shocking truth: his life was terminal. The pillar that had supported his sanity had crumbled to dust, never to be rebuilt.
A deep voice resonated from deep within the Master’s chest, as vast and hollow as a cavern. The charging men skidded to a halt.
The Master of the Myriad Blade Pavilion’s gaze was locked on the boy. His eyes were like an abyss, and Yixian met them squarely, his chest puffed out as if daring the man to strike him down.
“His killing intent,” the Master declared, “surpasses that of everyone in this manor combined.”
A visible tremor ran through the Warriors of the Myriad Blade Pavilion. It was clear their leader rarely gave such praise.
“Just kill him and be done with it!” one man roared. “Even if he is tied to the Huangyuan Fort Sect, a corpse can’t talk!”
The speaker, with his roughly cut red hair and crimson martial robe, looked to be a companion of the red-haired woman who had died moments before. He was from the Crimson Flame Sect, accompanying the Myriad Blade Pavilion on this raid.
I just have to hope they don’t know about the messenger.
At that moment, Yixian felt the true terror of dealing with the Thirteen Celestial Halls. Their sudden attack had been perfectly calculated. This was how the great sects that dominated the world operated; they already knew a young noble of the Wei family was connected to the Huangyuan Fort Sect.
“Chief Steward!” Yixian shouted. The man who had been lying amidst the wreckage of the doorframe flinched. He had been pretending to be dead.
“Yes, yes, Young Master.” The Chief Steward, not an ordinary man himself, staggered to his feet.
“You told me you were completing an information network that encompassed all of Xinye,” Yixian said, his voice ringing with authority. “These men arrogantly attacked our manor with little more than a dozen Warriors, without even setting up a blockade. Are you telling me the Wei family’s eyes and ears can’t even reach as far as Xiangyang?”
“No, no. Xiangyang… Xiangyang is close.”
Xiangyang, at the northern edge of Nanyan Province, was a border city near Xinye County. The Zhongyuan were vast, but that was close enough. A trained messenger could reach it without incident.
He might have already gone to the Huangyuan Fort Sect for help.
It was impossible to know if the family would think to call on his maternal relatives in an emergency. But even the Myriad Blade Pavilion wouldn’t be privy to every private matter of a minor family like the Wei.
“If you can’t bring yourself to kill me,” Yixian said, his hand tightening on the hilt of his sword. He wrenched the blade free from the corpse’s back. A long spray of blood arced through the air, and a heavy silence descended upon the manor. A fifteen-year-old boy now commanded a courtyard filled with the leader and Warriors of a major sect.
The Crimson Flame Sect warrior roared again. “You’re already on our list! You’re bound to talk, so how can we let you live?” He was speaking to Yixian, but his words were a desperate plea to the Master of the Myriad Blade Pavilion.
The next moment was crucial. The roles of predator and prey had somehow been reversed.
Yixian’s reply was sharp as glass. “You fool. Do you really think the Huangyuan Fort Sect, the greatest power in the martial world, would wage war on the Thirteen Celestial Halls over a grievance brought by the grandson of a former commander?”
If he were the grandson of the Huangyuan Fort Sect Lord, things might be different. That man, recognized by the emperor as an equal to a prince, was the guardian of the great ‘Asura Divine Tree’ and its life-extending fruit. But Yixian was no blood relative of the Sect Lord. If he were, the Wei family would never have dared to treat him so poorly over some superstitious unease.
“The grandson of the former Huangyuan Fort Sect commander?” Stride Edge Sword muttered as he checked on Yixin’s condition.
So, the boy was the grandson of a retired commander from their military branch. Killing him could have consequences far greater than letting him live. The Thirteen Celestial Halls were mighty, claiming dominance over the world, but harming the grandson of a Huangyuan Fort Sect elder was another matter entirely. It was as troublesome as taking a Jade Brush Academy scholar’s family hostage.
“The royal families established the Huangyuan Fort Sect to prevent martial uprisings,” the Master of the Myriad Blade Pavilion said. “He is indeed a troublesome loose end.” He paused, his gaze still fixed on Yixian. “But that is not why I have decided to spare you.”
The head of the Crimson Flame Sect warrior exploded. A pulse of intangible sword energy had burst from the Master, too swift for anyone to even sense its release.
“Crimson Flame Sect,” the Master said to the headless corpse, “I told you to stop.”
The remaining red-haired warrior trembled, but the Master’s dark eyes had already returned to Yixian. “I like you. Your talent, your spirit. You have the potential to reach the peak. If you had no ties to the Huangyuan Fort Sect, I would have taken you as my disciple.”
A wave of shock rippled through the courtyard. It wasn't just the Myriad Blade Pavilion Warriors; even the masters from the Taiyue Sect couldn't hide their astonishment.
The Master of the Myriad Blade Pavilion continued, unbothered. “I will answer any challenge. When you are ready, come seek your revenge.”
Yixian sheathed his sword. He turned his back on the intruders and walked toward the bodies of his family, some of whom were still breathing. The Master watched him go with a peculiar expression before turning to the Taiyue Sect Warriors.
“This land. No other sect is to enter. You have one day.” He glanced at the injured Yixin, his face twisting with something unreadable.
There was no time for a reunion with the approaching Chief Steward. Tending to the bodies would have to wait. There were no divine healers like Divine Physician Sun here; for those gravely injured, the most they could do was make their final moments comfortable.
He saw his eldest brother, Wei Nanshan, and his sister-in-law. They were already corpses. He carefully moved them aside and stomped hard on the floorboards where they had fallen. A hidden panel slid open, revealing an underground chamber—a secret room where he and his brothers used to hide and giggle as children.
Just as he expected, a five-year-old girl was huddled inside, her eyes squeezed shut. She had been paralyzed; a hand filled with qi had pressed the sleep Acupoint on her neck, forcing her into a deep slumber. Yixian lifted his niece into his arms and climbed out of the chamber.
A young man who had been speaking with the Chief Steward turned his head. It was Wei Zhongshan, the second son of the Wei family, destined to become a disciple of the Taiyue Sect. Their eyes met for a fraction of a second before Zhongshan looked away, his guilt a palpable thing. He had been hiding.
Without a word, Yixian walked over and handed him the sleeping Hui'er. “Raise her in Taiyue. Whatever it takes.”
“I’ll be too busy just taking care of myself.”
“Raising her in Taiyue… Is that… even possible?” Zhongshan stammered, unable to meet his younger brother’s gaze. He had clearly been hiding somewhere close, watching the entire fight.
Pathetic. Yixian felt an unfamiliar wetness on his cheek and wiped away a smear of blood with the back of his hand.
“You know more about the Nine Great Sects than I do,” Yixian said coldly. “Children who become disciples at five or six become the future of a sect. Beg if you have to. Hui'er’s talent is greater than yours; they’ll take her.”
Wei Zhongshan bit his lip and lowered his gaze to his niece. Yixian watched him for a moment, relieved to see a flicker of responsibility in his eyes, not contempt.
Just then, the Taiyue Sect Warriors approached. Yixin led the way, with Stride Edge Sword and a martial artist known as Tranquil Fist half a step behind. Though their robes were stained with blood and they were clearly nursing internal injuries, they were already helping with the aftermath. Righteous Warriors, indeed.
“Young Hero Yixian.” The title had changed. Only yesterday, they had called him the family head’s son. Yue Yixin’s expression was a mixture of self-reproach and awe, as if she were looking at some extraordinary prodigy. “Are you going to the Huangyuan Fort Sect?”
“I must. There is nowhere else I can go to become stronger.”
“Xiangyang isn’t the only path available to you.” Yixin’s voice was sincere. “How about joining us at Mount Taiyue? I extend a formal invitation.”
It wasn’t just the Chief Steward and Zhongshan who looked stunned. Stride Edge Sword and Tranquil Fist, standing behind her, showed no surprise, as if it were the most natural suggestion in the world. Their faces were alight with the desire to recruit such a talent. For the Great Elder to personally invite someone was a sign that the boy was a swordsman of unimaginable potential.
“For the Great Elder of one of the Nine Great Sects to invite me… I am truly honored.” Despite his polite words, Yixian’s expression remained placid. His path was already set.
Sensing his resolve, Yixin added with a hint of urgency, “I intend to recommend you as a direct disciple of the Sect Leader. You would be able to learn the supreme martial arts of our sect. And I know you are capable of mastering them, Young Hero.”
This time, the shock was universal. The position of direct disciple to the Taiyue Sect Leader was one of immense prestige, a gateway to learning some of the most profound martial arts in the world. Moreover, the current Sect Leader was renowned as one of the ten greatest swordsmen alive. The tales of his peerless sword techniques, seen during his many chivalrous exploits, were legendary.
The people of Xiqin call him one of the top five martial artists in the Zhongyuan! the Chief Steward screamed internally. He must go! No matter how powerful the Huangyuan Fort Sect was, Yixian was merely the grandson of a retired officer. Becoming the direct disciple of the Taiyue Sect’s leader was by far the better choice. The Wei family had always valued being the head of a snake over the tail of a dragon.
Young Master! Please!
The Chief Steward’s silent plea went unheard. The boy simply bowed his head respectfully. “I will carry the Great Elder’s generous offer in my heart.”
Yixin’s elegant face fell, a hint of resignation in her eyes. She gave up quickly, as if she had expected this. “You have confidence in yourself, I see. You believe you can rise to the top, even within the Huangyuan Fort Sect.” She smiled faintly. “I covet your talent. I suppose the Master of the Myriad Blade Pavilion felt the same.”
“You are too kind.”
“There is no need for that. Just remember that the doors of Taiyue will always be open to you.”
Yixian looked directly at Yue Yixin. “I understand you are one of the elders among the noble race. Do you know of a way to obtain the fruit of the Asura Divine Tree?”
“The fruit of the Asura Divine Tree! Then you truly are…!” Yixin’s eyes widened in understanding, her expression turning to one of regret. “I have not lived even half of my allotted years. I hold no authority over the Asura Divine Tree. Only the Lord of the Huangyuan Fort Sect can grant access to its fruit.”
“Then I must go to the Huangyuan Fort Sect.”
“It will not be easy. That fruit is sacred, even among our people.”
“I have no other choice. I will strive to make great contributions as the commander of the Divine Sword Brigade.”
“Then I will support you from afar.” Yixin returned his bow. Her noble bearing would remain with Yixian for a long time.
Their farewell was final. The path to the Taiyue Sect in Yong'an City, Xiqin Province, was in the opposite direction of Xiangyang, and she was eager to return and deliver her report. Stride Edge Sword and Tranquil Fist lacked her profound movement techniques, so Zhongshan decided to leave with them the next day. He needed to stay and watch over the family head, who was still clinging to life.
Yixian knelt beside his father, cradling the dying man’s head in his hands. His own eyes trembled slightly. The sword wound in his father’s abdomen was fatal. If you were going to die anyway, you could have at least treated me better while you were alive.
“Why are you so strong?” his father whispered, his lips quivering as his life force faded. “How did you become so powerful…?”
Yixian knew there wasn’t much time. The family head, Wei Daming, would be dead in a matter of moments. “I created it myself. And I mastered it. I call it the Wei Family Body-Forging Art.” Instead of grief or lamentation, he offered only the stark fact of his achievement. How his father took it was up to him. Yixian, long disillusioned with his family, left the man’s final feelings to chance.
“Wei… Family Body-Forging Art,” his father breathed, a tremor running through his body. “I see.” He struggled to open his mouth one last time. “A divine art… created by a Wei. My foolish, ignorant self… My son… The third son of this family has created a divine art.”
The boy listened in silence as his father spoke his last words.
“You… have… the potential… of a Great Master…”