The bells of Heaven-Splitting Sword Sect tolled thrice, their echoes rolling through the peaks like thunder across a fractured sky. Disciples streamed back through the mountain gates, weary from missions, their robes streaked with dust and blood.
Xu Tian walked among them, calm as ever. His white robe was unstained despite the battle in the gorge, his gaze steady as a blade laid upon silk. Yet though his steps were measured, whispers followed like shadows.
"They say the bandits turned their blades against each other.""No, I heard the ground itself betrayed them. Xu Tian cursed their fate!""A demon's seed. Heaven will not allow him to live long."
The words slithered, growing sharper with every retelling. Even those who had once admired his brilliance now stepped back as he passed, as though his shadow itself carried misfortune.
Only Zhou Wei stayed at his side, pale but resolute. His hand trembled as he held his bamboo scrolls, but his voice was firm. "Let them whisper, Tian-ge. Truth is a blade as well — and when drawn, it cuts deeper than lies."
Xu Tian smiled faintly. "Indeed. But until then, let their whispers weave my path."
When the mission party reported before Elder Ming, the mercenary leader stepped forward first. He bowed stiffly, his weathered face uneasy.
"Elder, the mission was completed. But I must speak plainly — without Xu Tian, we would all be corpses. His sword… it twisted the battle itself. I have never seen such a Dao."
Gasps stirred among the disciples gathered outside. Elder Ming's eyes flickered toward Xu Tian, unreadable.
Then Bai Heng stepped forward, his face the picture of righteousness though his eyes gleamed with venom. "Elder Ming, it is true that Xu Tian fought bravely. Yet we must speak of what we saw — enemies stumbled without cause, blades turned against their wielders. This is no ordinary sword Dao. Such unnatural arts may endanger the sect itself."
The murmurs sharpened, hissing like snakes.
Elder Ming's gaze hardened. "Silence. The mission is complete, and merit earned. Xu Tian, Bai Heng, Zhou Wei, and the rest shall receive contribution points."
His words cut the whispers short, but only for a breath. Beneath the surface, suspicion thickened.
That evening, Xu Tian returned to his courtyard. He had barely lit his lantern when Lady Xue arrived, her face pale with urgency.
"Tian'er," she whispered, "the rumors grow unchecked. Already, petitions spread among the elders to investigate you. They speak of forbidden Dao, of cursed blood."
Xu Tian bowed respectfully. "Mother, I expected no less. A rising blade always attracts the whetstone of envy."
Her hands trembled as she grasped his sleeve. "Listen to me — the sect is not merely whispers. It is politics, ancient debts, hidden blades. The Supreme Elder waits for the moment when the sect itself casts you aside. Do not give him cause."
Xu Tian placed his hand gently upon hers. "Do not fear. I will sheath my edge until the time is right. But remember, Mother — even a sheathed blade casts a shadow."
Days passed. Xu Tian trained in silence, his sword arcs simple, restrained. He avoided attention, bowed to instructors, acted as the model disciple.
Yet the whispers only grew.
"He hides his edge now — proof he fears Heaven's wrath.""Even the elders watch him closely. He will not last.""No genius cursed by Heaven has ever lived long."
And one by one, those who once greeted him turned their backs. In the training grounds, sparring partners withdrew. In the dining halls, disciples left empty spaces between themselves and him.
Isolation descended like winter frost.
Only Zhou Wei remained steadfast, though his timid frame grew thinner under the weight of standing at Tian's side.
One evening, as Tian walked through the moonlit courtyards, Bai Heng approached with a group of followers. Their faces were smug, their eyes glittering with malice.
"Xu Tian," Bai Heng said loudly, his voice carrying across the courtyard. "The sect praises brilliance, but it does not tolerate demons. If you are truly pure, swear upon the sword stone that your Dao is righteous. Or dare you not?"
A crowd gathered swiftly, eager for spectacle.
Xu Tian's gaze was calm, his voice even. "A blade need not swear to prove its sharpness. It cuts, and that is enough."
Gasps rippled. Some sneered, others looked fearful. Bai Heng laughed coldly. "You see? He hides! Even he fears Heaven's judgment!"
The crowd murmured, suspicion tightening like a noose.
Xu Tian turned without another word, his robe fluttering like drifting snow. Behind him, whispers surged like a tide.
That night, alone in his courtyard, Xu Tian unrolled the Fragments of the Ninth Sky. His father's faded handwriting glimmered faintly in lantern light.
"To walk this path is to walk alone. Friends will falter, allies will fear. Even love will turn to suspicion. Only the blade remains."
Xu Tian's hand tightened upon the parchment. For the first time, he felt the cold weight of solitude pressing against his heart.
Yet within that cold, a spark burned brighter.
He lifted his sword, tracing its edge with his thumb until blood welled. The crimson drop slid down steel, gleaming in the lantern glow.
"I will walk alone if I must. But when my blade cuts, the heavens themselves shall bleed."
Above, thunder rumbled faintly, though the sky was clear.
Far within the sect's highest halls, the Supreme Elder listened to reports.
"Whispers spread. Already, disciples avoid him. Soon, even his allies will turn away."
The elder's lips curved into a thin smile. "Good. Isolation is the whetstone of despair. Let him taste it. Let him stand alone. And when Heaven's tribulation descends, there will be none to shield him."
He turned toward the fractured night sky beyond the window, his eyes sharp as drawn steel.
"Xu Tian… your brilliance will end as ashes."