After a few weeks of acclimating to his newfound strength, Tao's physical might had soared to an astounding ten tons, and then some. His body, now a vessel of overwhelming power, had reached a level where every movement carried the weight of devastation.
At least for those below the seventh level of the Foundation Establishment.
With his foundation now solidified, he set his sights on the next stage of his cultivation. It was time to delve into sword cultivation, the very technique left behind by his mother.
A technique crafted by her own hands, imbued with her understanding of the Dao and her indomitable will. Tao looked forward, his gaze steady, his heart resolute. The path of the sword awaited him.
He was very eager to learn. Back in his old life, Tao had always wanted to learn swordsmanship; he had envisioned himself splitting the sky open or cutting a planet in half. And now he was in a place where that was very much possible.
Tao sat cross-legged in the jade courtyard.
The Void Severing Sword Manual rested before him. Its cover was worn, yet the faint remnants of his mother's qi lingered upon it, a whisper of her presence that made his heart ache.
With a deep breath, he placed his hands on the aged pages and flipped them open.
The first words carved into the ancient script were simple but carried an undeniable weight:
"To sever the void is to sever all that binds you. The sword is not merely a weapon but an extension of the will. Those who cannot cut their doubts will never grasp the Dao of Severance."
Tao traced his fingers over the flowing script, feeling the depth of meaning hidden within. This was more than just a sword technique—it was a philosophy, a way of life. He closed his eyes, inhaling deeply, steadying his heart.
Then, he read on.
…
Void Severing Sword Manual – Sword Techniques
First Form – Severing the Tether
"All things are bound by unseen chains—fear, weakness, hesitation. The first step is to cut them away."
This move was a foundation of utilizing sword intent, an attack that disrupts an enemy's flow of qi and severs their control over external forces.
With a single strike, it could break formations, unravel techniques, and dispel incoming energy waves. It was an execution of absolute precision, requiring the wielder to cut only what must be severed.
Second Form – Horizon Rend
"To sever the sky is to defy limitations."
A slash so fast and vast that it split even the heavens. Utilizing Sword intent, this technique unleashes an arc of sword energy that extends for miles, capable of cutting through mountains, rivers, and even spatial distortions. It was a strike of pure, unbridled destruction.
Third Form – Void Collapse
"What is cut does not merely split—it ceases to be."
This technique targeted the very essence of existence. By channeling the Dao of Severance, the user could strike a target and erase its presence momentarily, creating a rift where the enemy's body, weapon, or even qi would vanish as if it had never existed.
The power of this move grows stronger with the wielder's comprehension of void, sword, and severance laws.
Fourth Form – Karma Severance
"Fate binds us in unseen ways. But the sword has no master but itself."
This was the most esoteric move in the manual, allowing the wielder to sever karmic ties, remove curses, cut off destiny, and even break cause-and-effect links. It was not just an attack, but a technique that could reshape one's life path. A single stroke could free someone from their past burdens or render an opponent unable to escape their fate.
Final Form – Nothingness Cut
"What exists can be severed. What does not exist can be erased."
The pinnacle of the Void Severing Sword Manual. With this move, the wielder's sword becomes one with the void, transcending the material world. This is an attack that does not merely cut—it removes.
A strike that could erase an opponent, their qi, their soul, and their very presence from existence itself. Even time and space could not contain it. A technique feared by all who had witnessed it.
….
As Tao read the final passage, his hands trembled. His mother had created this manual—not just as a weapon but as a legacy, a message to him.
"Sever your limits. Sever your fate. Walk your path, my son."
Her voice, long gone, whispered into his ears.
Tao clenched his fists, his heart surging with determination. He would master this manual. Not just to become stronger, but to honor her will.
After reading and re-reading the manual for the past few hours, Tao realized that currently, he could only comprehend and use the first style.
But he was extremely excited!
This Manual was a way for him to comprehend and gain Sword intent!
After thinking it over, Tao decided to rest; his mind felt overloaded from the sheer information he had just read. And later on tonight, he would begin his practice until he could effectively use this first strike and awaken sword intent.
With a happy smile on his face, Tao leaped into his bed and fell asleep.
…..
Beneath the pale moonlight, Tao stood with his practice sword in hand. The iron sword was just a simple piece of iron, but a much stronger iron than normal.
The wind howled through the barren training field, carrying the scent of damp earth and steel.
Before him, an old and slightly huge boulder loomed. Tao chose this adversary, as it was unmoving and unyielding.
The words from the Void Severing Sword Manual echoed in his mind:
"All things are bound by unseen chains—fear, weakness, hesitation. The first step is to cut them away."
The agenda was to gain an understanding of and be able to use the first style of the Void Severing Manual.
Tao exhaled. His grip tightened around the hilt of his sword, his slightly calloused fingers pressing against the cool metal.
He had memorized every stroke, every principle, yet execution was another matter entirely. The first swing was clumsy, lacking intent. The second was better, but the blade barely scraped the boulder's surface.
He gritted his teeth. "Again."
Days blurred into nights as Tao honed his strikes.
His muscles ached, and his hands blistered, but he refused to stop.
The first month passed in relentless repetition, each movement shaving away hesitation, each cut refining his will. He began to feel the unseen forces around him—the flow of immortal qi in the air, the tremors in the ground, the subtle resistance between his blade and the world itself.
By the end of the second month, something had changed.
His sword was no longer just an extension of his arm; it was an extension of his soul. A silver aura shimmered around his strikes, each slash tearing through the air with increasing sharpness.
Sword aura, the first tangible step towards sword mastery.
Yet, it was not enough.
It was around the third month that Tao lost himself in the sword. He no longer felt hunger or fatigue.
His body moved on instinct, each swing carving through the wind like a whisper of death. The world faded, leaving only his breath, his sword, and the boulder before him.
Then, on one chilly night—when his body was beyond exhaustion and his mind was on the verge of collapse—it happened.
As Tao raised his sword for the last strike, the world stilled. The wind ceased. The air grew thin, heavy with an unseen sharp weight.
His mind, spirit, and his very existence were engulfed by the sword.
In that instant, it was as if night had turned to day. And he understood.
To sever the tether was not to cut the stone, but to cut the very concept of resistance between him and it.
His sword fell.
A single, soundless slash.
The massive boulder, unbroken after countless strikes, split in two. Not shattered, not crushed—simply cut and cleanly severed. The cut was impossibly smooth, as if the stone had never been whole to begin with.
Tao stared, chest rising and falling in slow, even breaths.
Sword intent.
He had awakened it. And the first style of the Void Severing Manul, Sever the Tether, he finally used it the correct way. The culmination of all his effort, all his will, all his understanding—manifested in that single, perfect strike.
He closed his eyes, the ghost of a smile tugging at his lips.
And then he collapsed on the ground, unconscious.
….
Far above the training grounds, in the vast throne room of the Dragon Palace, Sage Dai Long sat upon his throne, watching. His blood red eyes, filled with the wisdom of centuries, bore into the distant figure of his son as he practiced.
The room was silent save for the occasional flicker of lantern light and the quiet murmuring of an attendant, but Dai Long paid them no heed. His mind was elsewhere, drifting between past and present.
Yu Bai Lian.
The name alone stirred a tempest in his heart.
She had been a woman of unparalleled brilliance, a sword prodigy so terrifyingly talented that even ancient sects had sought her out. Yet she had walked her own path, defying convention, wielding the sword not for power, but for something greater.
And now, their son walked that same path, even if he didn't fully understand it.
Dai Long's gaze softened as he observed Tao. He saw the fierce determination in his stance, the relentless pursuit of perfection in every cut. It was her. The same madness, the same obsession, the same undeniable talent.
"Even in death, you live on through him, Bai Lian."
After the first month of watching Tao practice, he had feared that Tao would quit, give up after the countless setbacks. But no, the boy had been determined to master this first style.
So, of course, Dai Long was worried that Tao could have exhausted his soul and died.
But now, as he watched the shimmer of sword aura form around Tao's strikes, Dai Long knew.
His blood burned with the same fiery temperament as his mother's.
Then, when he saw Tao's will and sword aura merging with the sword, he was extremely happy.
For the first time in years, Dai Long closed his eyes—not in mourning, but in happiness.
Tao may not know it, but he has done, in just three and a half months, what many who proclaim themselves swordsmen fail to achieve their entire lives.
Tao finally awakened sword intent.
…..
Days after his grueling training, Tao finally stirred from his deep rest. His body, once pushed beyond its limits, now felt refreshed—stronger, sharper, as if something fundamental within him had changed.
He sat up, exhaling slowly, feeling an unfamiliar, but familiar presence humming beneath his skin. It was all around him, even within him.
Sword Intent.
It was unlike sword aura, which simply enhanced his strikes with sharp energy. This was something deeper—something that resonated with the very concept of the sword itself. It wasn't just power; it was will made manifest.
Tao stood, stretching his limbs before stepping out onto the training grounds. The morning air was crisp, the sky painted in hues of gold and blue. His gaze fell upon his practice sword, resting nearby. He reached for it instinctively—but before his fingers could close around the hilt, an idea struck him.
Could he move it... Without touching it?
Taking a steady breath, he extended his hand, his fingers barely curled as he focused.
For a moment, nothing happened.
Then, as if responding to an unseen command, the sword trembled. A faint, invisible force wrapped around the blade, and before Tao's eyes, it floated.
His heart pounded in excitement. He hadn't infused it with qi or used any external force—this was pure Sword Intent. It was as if the sword recognized his will, obeying him without resistance.
With a flick of his fingers, the blade tilted, moving fluidly through the air, as if guided by invisible threads. He made small motions, testing how precisely he could control it. The sword followed, responding as though it were an extension of his own body.
Tao's eyes narrowed. What about cutting?
He turned his gaze to a training dummy nearby, willing the floating sword forward. The weapon obeyed, gliding across the field with eerie smoothness. With a single thought, he urged it to strike.
Shing!
The blade carved through the wooden figure without effort. The cut was clean, precise, and absolute.
Tao exhaled slowly, lowering his hand. The sword drifted back toward him, landing gently in his palm. His grip tightened around the familiar hilt, but now, it felt different.
Before, he had been a swordsman wielding a weapon.
Now, the sword was an extension of himself.
A sharp smile crossed his lips. Though his Sword Intent was still raw, unsharpened, and untested in true combat, he knew one thing for certain— that this was only the beginning.