Elder Baishan said with confusion and a trace of tension,
"Fang Lin… you chose an ordinary piece of wood. This is not a sword. If others find out, they will think the clan did not grant you a sword at all. You still have a chance to choose properly."
Fang Lin replied quickly, scratching the back of his head in slight embarrassment,
"Yes, I know this. But I truly can't decide what is best for me. There are too many swords here… that's why I want your suggestion, Elder."
As he spoke, he lowered his head slightly in respect.
Elder Baishan fell silent.
Elder Baishan looked at Fang Lin for a long moment. The tension on his aged face slowly eased, replaced by a calm, thoughtful expression.
"Hmm…" he murmured, stroking his white beard. "Since you are unable to decide, then listening to an elder's guidance is not a wrong choice."
He turned his gaze toward the vast rows of swords within the repository.
"A sword is not chosen only by sharpness or rank," Elder Baishan continued. "Some cultivators chase power, some chase compatibility, and some… unknowingly chase their own path."
Fang Lin stood quietly, listening with full attention. His earlier excitement had settled, replaced by seriousness. This was not a simple reward anymore—it was a decision that would affect his future cultivation.
Elder Baishan took a few steps forward, his footsteps barely making a sound within the vast sword repository. Fang Lin followed silently behind him, his expression calm, though a hidden heat stirred deep within his body.
Elder Baishan suddenly stopped.
"From the way you walk, breathe, and observe your surroundings,"
he said slowly,
"it seems that yin energy within you is unusually prominent."
Fang Lin was slightly startled.
Turning around, Elder Baishan explained,
"Yin and Yang are the fundamental forces of this world. Yin represents cold, stillness, and darkness, while Yang represents heat, vitality, and fire. Most cultivators possess a balance of the two, but in your case—"
His gaze settled on Fang Lin's chest.
"—there is fire-type yang energy sealed deep within your core, yet your outward flow resembles yin. This contradiction is rare… and intriguing."
With that, Elder Baishan moved toward a different section of the repository.
This area felt completely different.
Rows of swords rested within wooden racks, each blade emitting a soft golden glow. The air itself felt warmer, as if faint flames were breathing within the space. Every sword here carried a quiet dignity, as though waiting to be awakened.
Elder Baishan reached out and lifted one sword.
The moment his fingers touched the hilt, a subtle warmth pulsed outward.
"I believe,"
he said while turning the sword toward Fang Lin,
"that this type of sword suits you better—a blade that appears calm on the surface, yet hides fierce fire within."
Fang Lin stared at the sword.
Lingyi gazed at the sword for a moment before speaking softly,
"I like this one, Fang Lin."
Hearing that, Fang Lin felt a sense of agreement rise within his heart. He stepped forward and gave a respectful greeting.
"If you have chosen this sword for me,"
he said sincerely to Elder Baishan,
"then it must be the right one."
He paused, concern briefly crossing his face.
"But you said earlier that every sword here possesses its own will, and that they resist before acknowledging a master. If that is the case… how will I be able to use it?"
Elder Baishan smiled faintly, his expression relaxed and confident.
"That is precisely why I am here," he replied.
"For now, I will suppress the sword's will. When you grow strong enough, you will claim it as your own—completely and without restraint."
As he spoke, a gentle golden light began to emanate from Elder Baishan's body. It flowed along his arm, gathered at his palm, and slowly entered the sword.
For a brief instant—
The sword trembled, as if resisting.
Then, silence.
The blade became still, obedient, as though a once-ferocious beast had been calmly brought under control.
Fang Lin felt his heartbeat steady…
yet deep inside, he knew—
This sword had not submitted.
It was merely waiting.
Elder Baishan held the golden sword in his hand, its surface glowing faintly like heated metal that had just been drawn from a forge.
"This sword," he said slowly, "is called the Blazing Ember Sword."
Fang Lin's eyes narrowed slightly as he looked at it.
"Blazing… Ember?" he repeated. "It feels hot, but not aggressive. Like a fire that hasn't fully awakened yet."
Elder Baishan glanced at him with faint surprise, then nodded.
"Good perception," he said. "This sword was forged more than a hundred years ago by a senior refiner of the Holy Sword Sect. At that time, the refiner wanted to create a sword that did not burn everything immediately—but instead grew stronger with its wielder."
He gently rotated the blade. The golden surface reflected torchlight like flowing magma.
"The word Ember means a remaining spark," Elder Baishan continued.
"This sword does not seek explosive destruction. Instead, it nurtures a hidden flame. The stronger the cultivator's fire-type essence and will, the more fiercely that ember will burn."
Fang Lin listened carefully, his breathing steady.
"Then why hasn't anyone taken it before?" Fang Lin asked.
A faint smile appeared on Elder Baishan's face.
"Because," he said calmly, "most people want immediate power. The Blazing Ember Sword rejects impatience. Those with unstable hearts or shallow foundations cannot resonate with it. To them, it is just a beautiful sword with no real strength."
He looked directly at Fang Lin.
"But your aura is different. Your fire energy is restrained, not wild. And more importantly—your will is steady."
Fang Lin slowly reached out, stopping just short of touching the sword.
"So if I grow stronger," he said softly, "this sword will grow with me?"
"Yes," Elder Baishan replied without hesitation.
"When your cultivation rises, the ember will turn into a flame. When your will sharpens, the flame will become an inferno."
For a moment, Fang Lin imagined it—
a quiet spark becoming a blazing fire that could cut through the heavens.
He bowed deeply.
"Thank you, Elder Baishan," Fang Lin said with sincerity.
"I will not let this sword be wasted."
Elder Baishan nodded, satisfied.
"Remember this," he said as he released the sword into Fang Lin's hands.
"A true sword is not chosen by strength alone. It is chosen by the path its master walks."
The Blazing Ember Sword hummed softly, as if acknowledging its new bearer.
And somewhere deep within Fang Lin's body, an unseen spark quietly burned brighter.