The road to the Divine Sword Manor was paved with dust and silence. Lu Feng walked, each step measured, each breath a wisp of frost in the air. He was a storm contained in human form, his killing intent a physical pressure that made the very insects in the grass fall silent. The name whispered by the terrified Master of the Blood Shadow Tower echoed in his mind: Alliance Leader of the Divine Sword Manor. A man revered as a paragon of justice, a pillar of the martial world. A hypocrite whose hands were stained with innocent blood. Lu Feng’s eyes, cold as ancient glaciers, held no emotion. Only a promise of annihilation. He had torn the Blood Shadow Tower down to its foundations. The Divine Sword Manor would be next. It was a simple matter of erasing a name from a list. Suddenly, the coarse shouts of men shattered the quiet. Ahead, where the path curved around a cluster of ancient willows, a group of five burly thugs surrounded a lone figure. They were low-level cultivators, their Inner Qi murky and undisciplined, but their malice was potent. Their target was a young woman in a simple white dress. She stood with a quiet dignity, her back straight, a cloth strip tied neatly over her eyes. A blind swordswoman. She held a slender, unadorned sword, its sheath worn from travel. "Little beauty, don't be so stubborn!" the leader, a man with a jagged scar across his face, sneered. "Just hand over the jade pendant and we'll let you go. Maybe we'll even have some fun first!" His companions roared with vile laughter. The woman’s lips, pale and unadorned, tightened. Her face was serene, but her knuckles were white where she gripped her sword. "Leave now," she said, her voice clear and cold, like a mountain spring. "Or face the consequences." The Scar-faced man guffawed. "Consequences? From a blind little cripple? What will you do? Trip over a rock and fall on us?" He took a step closer, his hand reaching for her. Lu Feng didn't alter his pace. He simply continued walking, his path taking him directly through their crude circle. He was just a servant in worn clothes, a ghost on the road. They barely noticed him until he was among them. "Get lost, beggar!" one of the thugs snarled, shoving a hand toward Lu Feng’s chest. "This is our business!" He didn't finish the sentence. Lu Feng did not look at him. He did not raise a hand. He simply… existed. An invisible force, colder than death, slammed into the thug. It wasn't a push. It was a crushing weight of pure will. A whisper of sword-qi, so refined it was imperceptible to these brutes, pulsed from Lu Feng's very being. The man’s eyes bulged. He choked, a gurgling sound escaping his throat as his meridians shattered from the inside out. He dropped to the ground, a broken puppet whose strings had been cut. Silence. The other four thugs froze, their jeering smiles wiped from their faces. They stared at their fallen comrade, then at the silent, unimposing figure of Lu Feng. "What… what did you do?" the Scar-faced leader stammered, a primal fear creeping into his voice. Lu Feng stopped. He slowly turned his head, his gaze sweeping over them. It was not a look of anger. It was a look of utter indifference, the way a god might glance at insects before crushing them underfoot. In that single glance, they saw their own deaths. They saw mountains of corpses and rivers of blood. They felt a peerless killing intent so sharp it seemed to flay the skin from their bones. Their Inner Qi froze in their dantian. Their legs gave out. One by one, they collapsed, not from a blow, but from sheer, soul-crushing terror. They whimpered on the ground, bladders letting go, their minds shattered. Lu Feng paid them no more mind. They were less than dust. He turned his attention to the blind swordswoman. She had not flinched. She stood perfectly still, her head tilted as if listening. Her senses, not reliant on sight, felt the world in a different way. She felt the sudden, terrifying spike of power. A pressure like a mountain descending from the heavens. An aura of death so profound it made her very soul tremble. Yet, it had not been directed at her. "Senior…" she whispered, her voice laced with awe and trepidation. "Thank you for your assistance." Lu Feng's eyes rested on her. He saw no fear, only a deep, ingrained wariness. He also sensed a faint, pure energy circulating within her, a medical sect's true essence, though it was weak and damaged. Her meridians were blocked in several places. "They wanted something from you," Lu Feng stated. It was not a question. Her hand went instinctively to a small, embroidered pouch at her belt. "It is nothing of value to anyone but myself." "You are from the Sacred Orchid Medical Sect," he said, his voice flat. Her composure finally broke. A tremor ran through her. Her sightless eyes widened behind the cloth. "How… how could you know? My sect was destroyed three years ago. Everyone… was killed." "Your Qi has the scent of the Thousand-Year Spirit Orchid. Only your sect knew how to cultivate it." He looked at her, his gaze piercing, as if he could see the story of her life. "You are their Saintess, Xue Feng." The name hung in the air. The woman, Xue Feng, lowered her head. A single tear escaped from beneath her blindfold and traced a path down her pale cheek. "I am all that is left," she said softly. "I survived only to fulfill a promise. To find the one who carries the other half of this." She seemed to make a decision. Her hands, though trembling slightly, moved with purpose. She opened the pouch at her belt and took out an object wrapped in silk. She unwrapped it carefully. Lu Feng watched, his expression unchanged. He was impatient to get to the Divine Sword Manor, to start the cleansing. This girl was a momentary distraction. Then, she stepped forward and held the object out to him. Lu Feng didn't move to take it. "I have no interest in your trinkets," he said, his voice cold. "Please, Senior," she implored, her voice urgent. "I do not know who you are, but I can feel your power. It is vast, like the sky. You are the only person I have ever met who might understand. I sense no evil in you. Let me show you this, as a sign of my gratitude. It is my only hope." With a final, determined step, Xue Feng reached out, her hand finding his. She pressed a cool, smooth object into his palm. It was half of an ancient jade pendant, intricately carved with the likeness of a soaring celestial dragon. Lu Feng glanced down at it, his mind already turning back to the road, to his impending revenge. Then he froze. The world, the wind, the very flow of time seemed to stop. His blood ran cold. That carving. That specific shade of emerald green. That unique, chilling touch of ancient jade against his skin. His hand, a hand that had slain gods and devils without a tremor, began to shake. Xue Feng pressed the half of the ancient jade pendant firmly into his hand. Lu Feng was shaken to his core as he recognized it. This was the very half of the jade tied to his own true origins, the one belonging to his dead mother.

Chapter 7: The Blind Swordswoman