Heavenly Sword Saint
Clang!
The sword cry echoed through the ancient palace.
For a brief moment, everything fell silent.
Then
Clang!
Another broken sword trembled.
Clang!
A second rose from the dust.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
One sword after another began to shake.
Some lifted only a few inches from the ground. Others rose completely into the air, surrounded by faint wisps of Sword Intent that had remained dormant for countless years.
The ancient blades were awakening.
The entire palace trembled with them.
Long Tian's smile gradually disappeared.
His gaze swept across the floating swords before settling on Jian Chen.
"What is this?"
A Lin Clan youth stared at the scene in disbelief.
"The inheritance..."
His voice trembled.
"The inheritance is resonating with him!"
Another youth's expression changed.
"If he absorbs the inheritance, we'll never be able to stop him!"
Long Tian's eyes became cold.
"Then don't give him the chance."
He raised his hand.
"Kill him!"
Boom!
The Lin Clan youths erupted with spiritual energy.
More than a dozen figures rushed forward simultaneously.
Sword qi tore through the air.
Saber lights descended from above.
Palm seals smashed toward Jian Chen from every direction.
The attacks sealed every possible path of retreat.
They weren't giving Jian Chen a chance to recover.
They wanted him dead before the strange phenomenon could progress any further.
Jian Chen remained where he stood.
Blood continued to flow from the wound in his chest.
His robes were soaked crimson.
Every breath felt like his lungs were being torn apart.
His heartbeat had become weak and irregular.
His vision blurred.
Death was no longer some distant possibility.
It was standing beside him.
Waiting.
Jian Chen lowered his eyes.
His gaze fell upon the sword in his hand.
This sword had accompanied him through countless battles.
It had witnessed his victories.
His defeats.
His moments of glory.
His moments of despair.
Unlike people...
It had never lied to him.
Never abandoned him.
Never turned against him.
A faint smile appeared on Jian Chen's blood-stained lips.
"The sword..."
His fingers tightened around the hilt.
"...has never betrayed me."
Clang!
He drew the sword.
A clear sword cry swept through the palace.
At that instant, something inside Jian Chen settled.
The pain remained.
The wound remained.
His life was still slipping away.
But the hesitation disappeared.
So did the disbelief.
The grief was still buried deep within his heart, but he pushed it aside.
For now, there was only one thing left.
His sword.
Jian Chen raised his head.
His eyes were calm.
Unnaturally calm.
The young master who had just suffered the greatest betrayal of his life seemed to have vanished.
In his place stood a swordsman.
A swordsman who had spent decades walking the Sword Dao.
A swordsman who had fought countless battles where one mistake meant death.
A swordsman who had learned long ago that fear could never be allowed to control the hand holding a sword.
Boom!
The first Lin Clan youth arrived before him.
His saber descended with enough force to split a mountain.
Jian Chen raised his sword.
Clang!
The collision shook the palace.
The saber shattered.
The young man's eyes widened.
He hadn't even understood what happened.
Jian Chen's wrist moved.
A silver arc flashed across the air.
Pfft!
Blood sprayed across the ancient floor.
The young man's body fell heavily.
Dead.
The entire palace became silent.
One breath.
One sword.
One death.
The surviving Lin Clan youths stared at Jian Chen.
He had been stabbed through the chest.
His life force was fading.
Yet he had killed one of their strongest companions as though the man had never stood a chance.
"Impossible..."
"How can he still fight?"
"He's already suffered a fatal injury!"
Fear began creeping into their eyes.
They had heard the stories.
Jian Chen was the greatest genius of the Jian Clan's younger generation.
His understanding of the sword was said to be frightening.
But stories were different from reality.
Now they were standing before that reality.
And they finally understood why his name had spread throughout the Divine Realm.
Long Tian's expression darkened.
"Don't retreat!"
His voice rang through the palace.
"He's dying!"
"That wound will kill him eventually!"
"Attack together!"
Boom!
The remaining Lin Clan youths charged again.
This time, they attacked without hesitation.
Sword qi filled the palace.
Saber lights crossed through the air.
Palm seals crashed down from above.
More than a dozen attacks converged on Jian Chen.
The combined power was enough to annihilate an ordinary Heaven Profound Realm cultivator.
Jian Chen stepped forward.
His body swayed.
A violent wave of pain erupted from his chest.
His vision suddenly went black.
His knees nearly buckled.
For a fraction of a second, he thought he was going to fall.
Then his fingers tightened around the sword.
He forced his body forward.
He couldn't rely on powerful techniques anymore.
His spiritual energy was running dry.
His injured body couldn't withstand another prolonged battle.
So he stopped trying to overpower them.
He relied on precision.
On experience.
On the sword.
Slash!
A sword flashed.
An incoming blade split cleanly in two.
Pierce!
Jian Chen's sword pierced an opponent's shoulder.
With a twist of his wrist, the youth was thrown aside.
Cut!
A saber came toward his head.
Jian Chen tilted his body.
The saber passed inches from his face.
A thin line of blood appeared on his cheek.
His sword swept backward.
Pfft!
The attacker's throat opened.
He collapsed.
Jian Chen continued forward.
Every movement was minimal.
Every step was calculated.
Every strike carried lethal intent.
There was no wasted motion.
No unnecessary display of power.
Only swordsmanship refined through countless battles.
Clang!
Three weapons broke beneath his blade.
Pfft!
Another Lin Clan youth screamed as his arm was severed.
Bang!
One opponent was sent crashing through a stone pillar.
Jian Chen's breathing grew heavier.
Blood flowed faster from his chest.
His vision continued to blur.
But he refused to stop.
One opponent fell.
Then another.
Then another.
Within moments, five Lin Clan youths lay scattered across the ancient floor.
Some were dead.
Others were wounded beyond the ability to continue fighting.
The survivors instinctively backed away.
Their faces were pale.
Jian Chen stood among them.
Blood covered his sword.
Blood covered his robes.
Blood ran down his chin.
And yet his eyes remained frighteningly clear.
The Lin Clan youths finally understood.
Jian Chen's strength wasn't simply his cultivation.
It wasn't his Spirit Vein.
It wasn't even his extraordinary talent.
It was his understanding of battle.
His understanding of the sword.
He knew exactly how much force was necessary.
Exactly where to strike.
Exactly when an opponent would expose an opening.
He didn't fight like a young genius.
He fought like someone who had survived countless battles against death itself.
Long Tian's fists slowly tightened.
His nails dug into his palms.
He stared at Jian Chen.
Jealousy burned within his chest.
Why?
Why had the heavens given Jian Chen such talent?
Even after being stabbed through the chest, he could still suppress the strongest youths around him.
If Jian Chen survived today...
Long Tian's expression became increasingly cold.
He couldn't allow that.
The thought of Jian Chen growing stronger terrified him more than he wanted to admit.
Today, Jian Chen was wounded.
Tomorrow, he could recover.
Years from now...
Who could stop him?
Long Tian's gaze hardened.
No.
He would not gamble with the future.
If Jian Chen died here, everything would end.
If Jian Chen lived...
Long Tian might spend the rest of his life looking up at his back.
He couldn't accept that.
Not today.
Not ever.
His hand slowly reached for the golden sword at his waist.
Clang!
The moment the blade left its scabbard, a deep dragon roar shook the palace.
Golden spiritual energy erupted from Long Tian's body.
The pressure swept outward.
The remaining Lin Clan youths immediately retreated.
None dared to remain in his way.
Long Tian stepped forward.
His golden robes fluttered beneath the surging spiritual energy.
He raised his sword.
A golden dragon coiled around the blade.
"The inheritance belongs to me."
His gaze locked onto Jian Chen.
"So does the title of greatest genius."
Jian Chen looked at him.
For several breaths, he remained silent.
Then a faint trace of contempt appeared in his eyes.
"You?"
His voice was weak.
But the contempt was unmistakable.
"You aren't worthy."
Long Tian's face twisted.
"Die!"
Boom!
He exploded forward.
His body became a streak of golden light.
The golden sword tore through the air.
A massive golden dragon emerged from the blade.
Its body coiled around the ancient pillars as it surged toward Jian Chen.
Its enormous jaws opened.
The pressure alone caused cracks to spread beneath Jian Chen's feet.
Yet Jian Chen didn't retreat.
His body had already reached its limit.
His heartbeat was becoming weaker.
His blood was running cold.
Every breath could be his last.
He knew it.
Long Tian knew it.
Everyone in the palace knew it.
Jian Chen slowly closed his eyes.
For the first time since the betrayal...
His mind became completely still.
He remembered his childhood.
The first time he held a sword.
The first time he defeated an opponent stronger than himself.
The countless mornings when he had risen before sunrise to practice.
The countless nights when his hands had bled from holding his sword too long.
He remembered the battles.
The victories.
The defeats.
The people he had lost.
The promises he had once believed in.
Then he remembered Lin Xue'er.
Pain pierced his heart.
But this time...
He didn't cling to it.
He let the memory pass.
He let it go.
That part of his life was over.
When Jian Chen opened his eyes again, there was no hatred in them.
No desperation.
No fear.
Only the sword.
Only his path.
A terrifying Sword Intent erupted from his body.
Boom!
The ancient palace shook violently.
The broken swords scattered across the ruins rose simultaneously.
Clang!
Clang!
Clang!
Thousands of ancient blades soared into the air.
Their Sword Intent erupted like a storm.
The golden dragon charging toward Jian Chen suddenly slowed.
Long Tian's pupils contracted.
"What...?"
More swords rose.
Higher.
Higher.
Until countless ancient blades filled the entire palace.
Ancient runes illuminated the cracked walls.
The ground trembled.
The pillars shook.
Even the air seemed to become sharp enough to cut flesh.
Jian Chen stood beneath the countless swords.
His blood-soaked robes fluttered violently.
His sword pointed toward Long Tian.
For a moment, neither side moved.
Then
Boom!
A terrifying wave of Sword Intent swept through the ancient palace.
It spread beyond the palace.
Beyond the ruins.
Across the entire Secret Realm.
Every ancient sword trembled.
Every broken blade cried out.
The ancient palace itself seemed to awaken from an eternal slumber.
Long Tian stared at Jian Chen.
For the first time...
A trace of fear appeared in his eyes.
He had wanted to kill Jian Chen before the inheritance awakened.
But now he understood something.
He might already be too late.
Jian Chen didn't know why the swords had risen.
He didn't know what they wanted from him.
He didn't know whether the inheritance had truly chosen him.
But he could feel something within the ancient palace.
Not submission.
Not worship.
Recognition.
As if something ancient had sensed his presence...
And remembered a person it had been waiting for.
Jian Chen tightened his grip around his sword.
The countless ancient blades answered with another thunderous cry.
Clang!
And in that moment, the last stand of the greatest genius of the Jian Clan truly began.