Void Clarity Sword Heart

The night deepened.

Qin Jue sat cross-legged on his meditation cushion, as still as an old monk in meditation. Only when the moon reached its zenith did he slowly open his eyes.

They were not the eyes of a seventeen-year-old boy. His pupils were deep, free of panic, holding only the detachment of someone who had seen the vicissitudes of life—and a trace... of long-lost vitality.

He lowered his head and looked at his hands. His palms were pale, but calluses covered them—the marks of years spent gripping a sword.

"Three days..."

Qin Jue murmured, the corners of his mouth lifting slightly. "Interesting."

The original owner of this body had also been named Qin Jue. He was seventeen, an Outer Court Disciple of Qingcang Academy.

That morning, Ning Zhiyuan had issued a public challenge, setting a duel for the academy's martial arts day three days later.

When the original owner heard the news, fury and anxiety overwhelmed him. On top of that, years of scarce resources had left his body depleted. He fainted on the spot and passed away not long after returning to his courtyard.

Now, the soul occupying this body came from another world called "Blue Star."

In his previous life, in a world where vital energy had dried up, he had spent a full sixty years honing the sword as a mortal, until he had reached the pinnacle of the Sword Dao.

No inner force, no vital energy—only technique.

He could read the autumn wind in the patterns of a leaf and sense killing intent in the chirp of a cicada.

One sword stroke decided life or death.

He had been honored as a Grandmaster of the Sword Dao, yet the limitations of that world had kept him from surpassing the human body's limits. In the end, his lifespan ran out, and he died with his sword in his arms.

He had never imagined that after waking, he would find himself in this unfamiliar world.

Qin Jue took a deep breath, sensing the faint energy flowing through the air.

This feeling... was wonderful!

In his previous life, the air had been as lifeless and stagnant as a pool of dead water. Here, it teemed with vitality. The energy in the air slipped into his lungs with each breath, bringing a coolness and ease he had never known.

"Is this the legendary vital energy?"

Qin Jue greedily drew in several breaths, like a traveler who had spent sixty years dying of thirst in the desert and had finally found an oasis.

"Sixty years..." he murmured, his voice full of ruefulness. "I struggled for sixty years over there, honing my swordsmanship to its limit, yet I was always missing that final step. If only I'd known a place like this existed..."

He suddenly smiled, the expression full of acceptance. "Forget it. What good would knowing have done? To get another chance at life is already an incredible blessing."

At the thought, Qin Jue's heart stirred. He immediately closed his eyes and circulated his cultivation method.

As he breathed, the faint vital energy in the air was drawn into his body. It flowed along his meridians, mingling with his blood and gradually transforming into purer vital blood energy. With every cycle, the vital blood energy in his body grew stronger.

This was the Azure Pine Qi Drawing Art, a Mortal Tier Mid-grade cultivation method and the basic method practiced by Qingcang Academy's Outer Court Disciples.

"So that's how it works... Use vital energy to temper the body and strengthen the blood, then break through the limits of the human body."

Qin Jue's eyes flew open, a glimmer of understanding in them.

In his previous life, the world had held him back. He had possessed swordsmanship without equal, yet could make no further progress. Now, everything was different!

Qin Jue clenched his fist, feeling the vital blood energy slowly coursing through his body. This body was still weak, but given enough time, there was no reason he couldn't go further!

Moving mountains and filling seas, flying through the sky and burrowing underground—here, they were more than just legends.

"Since I'm here, I might as well make the most of it."

Qin Jue stood and stretched his limbs. His bones cracked in a rapid series of pops, like beans frying in a pan, and he couldn't help grimacing as he rubbed his lower back.

"Ugh—this body's badly run down."

Qin Jue shook out his arms and rolled his neck. The more he moved, the more his brow furrowed. "This back, these legs, and these shoulders... Tsk, old injuries all over."

He sighed. "Still, it's no big deal. A body is trained, not born. I'll slowly nurse it back to health."

His gaze fell on a corner of the room, where an iron sword lay.

The sword was old and mottled with rust. It didn't even have a scabbard, only a strip of coarse cloth wrapped around it. This was the original owner's only weapon.

Qin Jue walked over, picked up the iron sword, and casually spun it through a flourish.

It was too light, its balance was off, and the blade was slightly bent.

"Tsk."

He clicked his tongue in distaste and lightly flicked a finger against the blade. It gave off a dull hum.

"It'll have to do."

Qin Jue gripped the sword and casually swung it a couple of times. "As the ancients said, a good calligrapher doesn't pick and choose his brushes. I'm a Grandmaster of the Sword Dao; I can't let a lousy sword stump me. Besides..."

"A sword's worth has never depended on what it's made of."

As he spoke, he turned his wrist, and the blade traced a cold gleam through the moonlight.

Still... would this sword hold together through the battle three days from now?

"Ning Zhiyuan..."

Qin Jue recalled the original owner's memories.

Ning Zhiyuan had reached the Jade Bone stage of the Hundred Refinements Fourth Layer. Like the original owner, he came from a collateral branch of the family, but he had a natural talent for the saber.

The original owner, meanwhile, was at the Hundred Refinements Third Layer. He practiced the Azure Pine Qi Drawing Art and the Tide Rising Sword Technique. His cultivation method was only Mortal Tier Mid-grade, and his martial skill was an ordinary Mortal Tier sword art—the sort everyone at the academy had a copy of.

It was far inferior to Ning Zhiyuan's Mortal Tier High-grade Hundred Bones Thunderous Sound Art.

It was an exceptionally rare and overbearing cultivation method, even among Mortal Tier High-grade arts. By vibrating the bones, it tapped into the body's potential. Its practitioners' vital blood surged, and faint thunder sounded between their bones. Their aura was terrifying, and their explosive power far surpassed others at the same level.

Even at the same Hundred Refinements Fourth Layer, a martial artist who practiced the Hundred Bones Thunderous Sound Art was at least thirty percent stronger than one who practiced a Mortal Tier Mid-grade method.

That was the gap between cultivation method grades.

"No wonder the original owner was driven to his death. This was a challenge he was bound to lose."

A trace of pity entered Qin Jue's voice.

Any martial artist at the Hundred Refinements Third Layer facing someone at the Fourth Layer—and one who practiced Mortal Tier High-grade cultivation methods and martial skills, no less—would meet the same fate: defeat.

"If I were the original owner, defeat would be certain. But I'm not."

Qin Jue stilled his breath and sat cross-legged, then closed his eyes and let his consciousness sink into his body.

As his vital blood circulated, his awareness traveled upward along his meridians, eventually reaching the Sea of Consciousness deep behind his brow.

The Sea of Consciousness was shrouded in gray mist, its depths impossible to make out. At its very center, a Broken Sword floated in silence.

The sword was pitch-black, its material unknown. Its blade was covered in countless cracks and looked as though it might crumble to dust at any moment. Yet there it hung, radiating an ancient, desolate aura that inspired awe in anyone who sensed it.

This was the thing that had crossed worlds with him.

Qin Jue hesitated for a moment, then cautiously extended a wisp of consciousness toward the Broken Sword and gently touched it.

The instant he touched the Broken Sword—

Qin Jue felt a coolness at his brow. A breath of icy clarity surged from the sword, sweeping through his entire Sea of Consciousness before spreading along his meridians to his limbs and bones. It was as if every pore in his body had been cleansed, leaving him indescribably clear and refreshed.

As this cool breath spread, the world around him underwent a wondrous change.

The vital energy drifting through the air, which he had previously sensed only faintly, now seemed like visible points of light. He could clearly perceive every wisp and thread as it flowed.

More importantly, his mind had changed.

The martial techniques he had inherited from the original owner, once obscure and difficult to understand, now seemed clear and simple. He could see exactly where each movement's power came from and what made every move and stance so effective. Nothing remained unclear.

"This is..."

Qin Jue's mind shook. He abruptly opened his eyes, a flash of brilliance in them.

Void Clarity Sword Heart!

This was the innate divine ability the Broken Sword had bestowed upon him. In this state, his comprehension would rise to an unimaginable level. Every martial skill would become transparent to him, with not a single secret left hidden.

"With this, three days will be plenty."

Qin Jue rubbed his chin, a confident smile on his lips.

His gaze swept around the room before settling on a small wooden chest by the bed. Inside, he soon found a thin booklet: the manual for the Tide Rising Sword Technique.

He picked up the manual and began reading by moonlight.

The sword technique had three stances: the first, Tide Rising Stance; the second, Tide Surging Stance; and the third, Tidal Stance.

It was said to have been created by a senior who had watched the tide where a river met the sea. The technique did not seek strength, but a sword's momentum that was "alive"—unbroken and ceaseless, like the tide.

The original owner had practiced the first stance and mastered only three sword moves.

The first move was a level thrust. The second was a diagonal upward slash. The third was a turn and return. Together, the three formed a complete cycle: the finishing motion of one move became the starting motion of the next, so the momentum of the sword never broke. That was the essence of the first stance—to make the sword's momentum "live."

As Qin Jue flipped through the manual, his gaze suddenly stopped at the last page.

There were no illustrations or moves on this page, but it was crammed with annotations. Some handwriting was wild and hurried, while other notes were neat and forceful. They had clearly been written by different people.

Yet between the lines, only two words came through: unwillingness.

"I have practiced the Tide Rising Sword Technique for decades, hoping to deduce its Ultimate Form. But the Tide Rising Stance runs out of momentum before reaching the vast sea. What a regret."

"The Ultimate Form is elusive, beyond the reach of human effort."

"What if the martial skill is perfected? It is still only Mortal Tier; it can advance no further."

Qin Jue's eyes passed over the annotations, and his heart stirred.

Ultimate Form.

Qin Jue knew exactly how much those two words meant. In this world, any martial skill could theoretically lead to an "Ultimate Form." It was the skill's ascension, the key to breaking through the shackles of its tier.

Once someone comprehended an Ultimate Form, even a Mortal Tier martial skill could unleash, for an instant, power terrifying enough to rival an Earth Tier martial skill.

But possibility was only possibility.

Over the past several hundred years, tens of thousands of disciples had practiced the Tide Rising Sword Technique. Countless had perfected it, yet not one had taken that final step.

Qin Jue continued reading. At the very bottom of the page, a line of wildly scrawled characters stood out, written in thick, dark ink:

"The Tide Rising Sword Technique's Ultimate Form—its momentum like a tsunami and a dragon's roar, ten thousand swords returning as one! Master this form, and even the weak can defeat the strong, killing enemies above their level as easily as reaching into a bag! Alas! I exhausted half my life and still never crossed the threshold!"

The strokes were so forceful they seemed to pierce through the paper. Even across a century, one could feel the old man's fury and helplessness in his final moments.

"Ultimate Form... killing enemies above my level..."

Qin Jue's heart burned with excitement. He gently ran his fingers over the line, a fervent light flashing in his eyes.