A sword was the other half of a Sword Cultivator's life.
The Sword Tomb was no ordinary burial ground for swords, but the final resting place of fallen Sword Cultivators from the Li Clan and across the world.
Thus, every sword within the Sword Tomb carried its owner's Sword Intent, obsessions, and even souls that had yet to disperse.
Nurtured over long years, deranged Sword Spirits could even be born from them.
They were not mere spirits, but Remnant Souls steeped in powerful obsessions.
They would actively attack the living, drag them into illusions, and reenact their masters' final battles. Those weak in will would sink into them, their Divine Souls scattering.
Then they would seize their bodies.
Though dangerous, it was also an exceptional place to comprehend the sword.
The group arrived before the Sword Tomb's barrier.
Qin Wangchuan stood at the edge of the barrier, his pupils abruptly shrinking.
Before him stood a towering Sword Mountain built from tens of millions of Ancient Swords. Their rust-covered blades crisscrossed one another, glimmering with a dark crimson, bloodlike light in the twilight.
The entire mountain resembled a mountain of corpses, desperately clawing its way toward the Heavenly Sword hanging down from the heavens, a sight shocking beyond measure.
It was as if these were not dead objects, but living people, one after another.
A narrow goat trail, barely wide enough for one person, stretched from the middle of the mountain. The densely packed blades on both sides trembled from time to time, giving off a hair-raising hum.
"This path is called the 'Path of Questioning the Heart.'"
As Li Qingluan helped Qin Wangchuan straighten his clothes, she explained, "For every ten steps you take, you must answer one question from the ancestors."
"This will determine how far you can go, and where you can comprehend the sword."
With a light sweep of her fingertip, a snowy, lustrous jade pearl and a Jade Slip glowing with azure light appeared in Qin Wangchuan's palm.
"Listen carefully." Li Qingluan lowered her voice, and a rare trace of severity appeared in her tone.
"This bead is called the Soul-Stabilizing Bead. Hold it beneath your tongue, and it will stabilize your Divine Soul, making you impervious to all evil."
"But you may only use it after you have completed the Path of Questioning the Heart."
After saying that, her fingertip settled on the Cyan Jade Slip. A blood-red pattern faintly surfaced across its face, as though linked to her aura.
"If you encounter danger—" Li Qingluan's voice abruptly halted. "Break it, and I will certainly come save you."
Two white-haired elders had already formed hand seals ahead. Sword Qi parted to either side like a tide, revealing a deep passageway.
Qin Wangchuan nodded, just about to step inside.
Li Qingluan suddenly caught his sleeve and whispered into his ear amid the ringing of countless swords:
"Fortune is small; life is great. Be careful..."
After speaking those final words, Li Qingluan fixed her frost-cold eyes tightly upon him, obvious worry churning in their depths.
Qin Wangchuan's lips curved slightly.
The smile was faint, yet for some reason, it put people at ease.
"Mm, I'll remember."
His voice was neither hurried nor slow, like a mountain stream flowing gently through the hills, carrying a calming strength.
After saying that, he lightly patted the back of her hand, signaling for her not to worry.
When he turned and stepped into the Sword Tomb, his back was straight as a pine, every step steady and firm.
The passageway slowly closed behind him, and Qin Wangchuan's figure was instantly swallowed by surging Sword Qi.
Li Qingluan stood where she was, unconsciously rubbing the back of the hand he had just touched. It seemed his palm's warmth still lingered there.
Inside the Sword Tomb, Qin Wangchuan's footsteps echoed through the deep passageway.
The Ancient Swords embedded across the Rock Walls on both sides suddenly trembled in unison, releasing piercing hums.
Dark crimson bloodlight flickered across their rusted blades, as if countless eyes were peering from the darkness.
"Who comes?"
A voice whose gender could not be discerned suddenly came from all directions.
Qin Wangchuan did not stop. The Immortal Bone within him suddenly lit up, wisps of pale golden immortal light flowing from his meridians and forming a hazy halo around him.
His gaze blazed like a torch, his voice steady as a mountain crushing down:
"Qin Clan, Qin Wangchuan."
The instant his words fell, several azure lamps abruptly lit up in the passage ahead, as if inviting him onward.
After ten steps, the Ancient Swords on both sides suddenly gave sharp, shrieking cries. The dark red blood-rust on their blades peeled away on its own, condensing into four savage blood-red words in the air:
"Why seek the sword?"
The characters looked carved by blades and axes, carrying a fierce, interrogating intent.
Without stopping, he answered, "To command Qiankun."
The instant those four words left his lips, the bloody characters exploded with a boom, turning into a sky full of blood mist.
At twenty steps, thick Blood Beads suddenly seeped from the cracks between the blue bricks. Each droplet gleamed with a chilling light, winding across the ground and gathering together until they formed four razor-sharp blood-red words:
"Have you ever betrayed another?"
The characters twisted like venomous snakes flicking their tongues, bearing an aggressive, pressing force.
"I will not betray my true heart."
He stepped over the bloody words, and pale golden flames ignited within his footprints.
At thirty steps, the Rock Wall above his head shook violently. Countless fragments of stone peeled away, collided and scraped against each other in midair, scattering dazzling sparks before assembling into three sharp stone characters:
"Do you fear death?"
Every character was sharply angular, as though it would pierce through the void.
"I fear dying without the Dao."
He raised his head and stared directly at the stone characters, his gaze flashing like lightning.
The stone characters shattered at once. Before the dust could hit the ground, Sword Qi had already shredded it apart.
At forty steps, the entire passageway suddenly groaned under unbearable strain and tilted a full forty-five degrees.
The blades on both sides crazily carved into the Rock Walls. Amid flying stone chips, four enormous words—"How sharp is your sword?"—came rushing at him with fierce Sword Intent, every stroke like a sword leaving its sheath.
"It can sever the star river."
His voice was not loud, yet the tilted passageway froze before slowly returning to its original position.
The writing on the Rock Walls cracked inch by inch before finally turning into dust.
At fifty steps, all the Ancient Swords suddenly let out mournful cries and flipped upside down.
Countless sword tassels wriggled and tangled like living things, twisting into several savage words in midair: "Who in heaven and earth is supreme?" Within the characters, countless agonized, howling faces could vaguely be seen.
"On the path of cultivation, everyone can become supreme."
Before his words had faded, half the inverted Ancient Swords snapped with crisp cracks. As their blades returned to position, those twisted faces vanished as well.
At sixty steps, countless cracks suddenly split open in the ground. Black Mist, dark as ink, surged out, roiling and twisting in midair before condensing into four sinister words:
"Do you trust heaven's will?"
Every character constantly changed form, sometimes resembling fierce ghosts wailing, sometimes demonfiends grinning savagely.
"My will is heaven's will."
He took one step forward, and the savage faces within the Black Mist screamed at once, collapsing as though struck by heavenly lightning.
At seventy steps, ripples suddenly spread through the air ahead, and a water mirror appeared from nothing.
As the mirror surface rippled, four words surfaced like swimming fish: "What is the meaning of love?" Each character was crystal-clear, yet carried a bone-piercing chill, as though it could freeze one's Divine Soul.
"Neither betray nor owe."
He looked directly at the characters in the mirror, his expression calm and open.
The water mirror exploded at once. Before countless ice crystals could fall, they completely evaporated, leaving behind only a long sigh echoing through the passageway.
Qin Wangchuan continued onward, unaware that—
Outside the Sword Tomb, seven days slipped by like a white colt passing through a crack.
"He still hasn't come out?" Li Qingluan stood at the entrance. There was no sign of Qin Wangchuan, only the morning breeze stirring fallen leaves across the ground.
Several duty disciples exchanged glances.
By precedent, those of mediocre talent who entered would be driven back by the overwhelming Sword Intent within a day or two.
Those with a little aptitude might endure for four or five days.
As for six or seven days, throughout all the generations, the only ones who could persist that long were Peerless Prodigies like Li Qingluan.
Could it be that this Young Master of the Qin Clan possessed such aptitude in the Sword Dao as well?
"Could something have happened?" A female disciple had barely spoken when an older deacon glared her back into silence.
"Perhaps he has comprehended something. Wait a little longer."
A morning bell rang in the distance, startling a flock of cold crows into flight.
Ten days later · Sword Tomb Guard Hall
"He still hasn't come out?" The Guard Elder's teacup lid scraped against the rim with a piercing rasp. "This Young Master of the Qin Clan really knows how to stir up trouble. If something happens to him in our Li Clan, we'll be in deep trouble."
"Report this to all the elders at once."
"And go to the Sword Tomb!"
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