Before Burial Sword Slope, Chaos Begins

The setting sun bled like blood, casting its light upon Burial Sword Slope, outside Qingfeng Town in the Qingyun Region.

Withered grass danced wildly in the autumn wind, and scattered across the slope were dozens of low earthen graves. None of them had even a decent tombstone; only half a rusted iron sword was stuck into the mound of each grave. This was the burial ground for the entire Ling family, 371 souls, three years ago.

A youth, clad in patched, gray cloth, knelt before the grave in the very center, meticulously wiping the iron sword at its head with a tattered rag. The boy's name was Ling Yun. He was sixteen, but his frame appeared frail compared to others his age. Only his eyes, on his dirt-smeared face, shone with astonishing brilliance, like sword edges quenched with cold stars, hiding a resilience and fortitude far beyond his years.

"Father, Mother, Eldest Brother… today marks the third anniversary of the Ling family's massacre. Yun has come to see you." Ling Yun's voice was hoarse. His fingertips brushed against the cold iron sword, the rust staining his skin like the blood that had splashed across his face three years ago.

On that rainy night three years ago, Qingfeng Town was engulfed in flames. The cultivators of the Zhao family stormed into the Ling residence like malevolent gods. They wielded blood-colored longswords and practiced sinister, unorthodox techniques. The Ling family's protective sword formation was no match for such malevolent power. His father, Ling Xiaotian, unleashed the family's inherited remnant scroll of the Lingyun Sword Manual and fought desperately to hold off Zhao Kun, the head of the Zhao family. However, he was struck by the opponent's Blood Devouring Palm, shattering his heart. His mother hid him in a dry well before turning to charge at the pursuers, her silhouette forever etched in the flames. His eldest brother, Ling Yunxiao, to cover his escape, was pierced through the chest by a Zhao family guard's sword.

That night, the Ling family, which had flourished for three hundred years in the Qingyun Region, along with the remnant scroll said to contain the secrets of ancient sword cultivators, became nothing but a blood fiend. And he, Ling Yun, became the sole survivor of the Ling family.

For three years, he had transformed from a pampered young master of a noble family into a beggar and herb collector. He dared not reveal his identity, dared not form deep connections with anyone. Every day, apart from filling his belly, he guarded his relatives' graves on Burial Sword Slope, replaying the horrors of that night in his mind, engraving Zhao Kun's face and the sneering laughter of the Zhao family cultivators deep into his bones.

"Zhao Kun…" Ling Yun clenched his fists, his knuckles turning white. "And all you dogs of the Zhao family, you wait. I will avenge the Ling family sooner or later!"

Before his words had even faded, a fierce gust of wind suddenly swept across Burial Sword Slope. The iron sword on the grave emitted a low hum, as if responding to his oath. In Ling Yun's embrace, a fragment wrapped in silk suddenly grew hot. He quickly took it out. It was the only remaining half-page of the Lingyun Sword Manual, given to him by his mother before she died.

The edges of the fragment were scorched black. On it were written a few lines of incomplete sword techniques in ancient script, along with a blurry diagram of a sword. For three years, he had read it over and over, but he couldn't understand a single character. He only knew it was the root of his family, something his parents had died protecting.

But today, the fragment seemed to have been activated by something. Where the silk wrapping didn't cover it, a faint green spiritual light emanated. Ling Yun stared at the fragment in surprise. The ancient script characters began to glow faintly, and the sword shadow in the diagram seemed to come alive, slowly flowing across the fragment.

"This is…" Ling Yun's heart pounded. He had never seen the fragment exhibit such an anomaly.

Just then, his fingertip was cut by the iron sword, and a drop of blood fell onto the fragment. As soon as the blood touched it, it was instantly absorbed. The spiritual light of the fragment surged, and the green radiance shot up into the sky, enveloping the entire Burial Sword Slope.

"RUMBLE!"

The ground of Burial Sword Slope suddenly shook violently. A crack split open in the earth beneath Ling Yun's feet, and a pitch-black ancient sword, covered in rust, slowly rose from the fissure. The sword was about three feet seven inches long, its scabbard mottled, showing no ornamentation. It looked like a discarded piece of scrap iron, but the moment it appeared, the surrounding air seemed to freeze, and even the autumn wind stopped in its tracks.

"Is this… the family's treasured artifact, the Sky-Rending Sword?" Ling Yun's eyes widened.

He had seen records of it in the family's ancient texts. The founding ancestor of the Ling family had obtained an ancient sword from antiquity and named it "Sky-Rending." Unfortunately, it was lost in a sect war a thousand years ago and its whereabouts became unknown. He never imagined that this legendary ancient sword had been buried beneath Burial Sword Slope all along.

The Sky-Rending Sword hovered in mid-air. The rust on its scabbard peeled away at a visible rate, revealing the dark, flowing sword body within. Then, as if possessing intelligence, it slowly flew towards Ling Yun, its hilt gently touching the sword manual fragment in his hand.

"Buzz–"

The spiritual light of the fragment and the dark glow of the sword body intertwined, forming a pillar of green light that instantly enveloped Ling Yun. A vast yet gentle power flowed into his body, coursing through his meridians. Wherever it passed, the lingering ailments from malnutrition and cold over the past three years vanished without a trace.

Even more miraculously, in his dantian, the previously empty sea of qi suddenly rippled, and a strange vortex began to condense. Ling Yun had secretly observed other cultivators practicing and knew this was a sign of sensing spiritual energy and about to embark on the path of cultivation.

"I… I can cultivate?" Ling Yun was both shocked and delighted.

For three years, he had thought of seeking a master countless times, but no matter which sect he tested at, the result was always "no spiritual root, unable to cultivate." This had almost extinguished his hope for revenge, but now, the Sky-Rending Sword and the sword manual fragment had opened the door to cultivation for him.

Just as the vortex was about to stabilize, an even more potent force surged from the Sky-Rending Sword, directly into his sea of consciousness. Ling Yun felt a sharp pain in his head as countless pieces of information about the sword path flooded in—basic sword momentum techniques, insights into sword intent, and diagrams of profound sword moves.

"Chaos Sword Body… it actually exists…" a hoarse and weak voice suddenly echoed in his sea of consciousness.

Ling Yun startled. "Who? Who's speaking?"

"I am the spirit of the Sky-Rending Sword, a remnant wisp of a soul…" the voice stammered. "You possess the Chaos Sword Body, capable of accommodating all methods and absorbing various sword intents… This is the supreme physique for the sword path, yet it also draws the jealousy of the Heavenly Dao…"

Chaos Sword Body? Ling Yun was stunned; he had never heard of such a physique.

"The sword manual fragment… is the opening chapter of the Qiankun Sword Canon… it is compatible with your physique…" The spirit's voice grew weaker. "I need to slumber to recover… For future cultivation, you may consult the remnant soul within the sword…"

As the voice faded, it completely disappeared from his sea of consciousness. The light of the Sky-Rending Sword dimmed, transforming into a stream of light that drilled into his dantian's sea of qi, merging with the vortex. The sword manual fragment in his hand also dissolved into specks of green light, integrating into his brow. Those ancient script characters and sword move diagrams were clearly imprinted in his sea of consciousness.

Ling Yun slowly opened his eyes, feeling strength coursing through his body. The vortex in his dantian flowed steadily. Although it was only the early stage of a basic Sword Apprentice, his vortex was several times more condensed than that of an ordinary cultivator. More importantly, he could clearly feel the faint energy permeating the surrounding air. As long as he willed it, he could absorb it into his body at any time, converting it into his own spiritual power.

"Father, Mother, Eldest Brother, did you see? I can cultivate! I have hope for revenge!" Ling Yun kowtowed three times towards the graves, oblivious to the blood seeping from his forehead.

He stood up, brushed the dust off his clothes, and the confusion in his eyes completely vanished, replaced by a determined light. He knew that with his current strength, let alone revenge, he couldn't even get through the Zhao family's gates. Zhao Kun was a rare Sword Emperor realm expert in the Qingyun Region, and the Zhao family had dozens of Sword Masters and Great Swordsmen. The disparity in strength was like a chasm.

"I must improve my strength as quickly as possible," Ling Yun clenched his fist. "The Flowing Cloud Sword Sect recruits disciples in three months. That is my only chance."

The Flowing Cloud Sword Sect was one of the seven great sword sects in the Qingyun Region. Although ranked lower, it was a legitimate immortal cultivation sect. Three years ago, the Ling family had maintained contact with the Flowing Cloud Sword Sect. If he could join the sect, not only could he cultivate systematically, but he might also uncover more secrets about the Zhao family.

However, before that, he had to visit the Zhao family. He wanted to see for himself how glorious the life of the murderer of his entire family had become.

Night fell, and Qingfeng Town was shrouded in silence. Ling Yun changed into even more worn-out clothes, smeared some dirt on his face, disguised himself as a beggar, and quietly infiltrated the Zhao family mansion in the town center.

The Zhao family mansion had doubled in size since three years ago. A vermilion gate bore a gilded plaque. Two guards armed with long spears stood at the entrance, their auras condensed; they were actually Sword Master realm cultivators. Ling Yun crouched in the shadows of a street corner, his heart pounding. This was the first time in three years he had been so close to his enemies.

Under the cover of night, he darted between the Zhao family's courtyard walls like a civet cat. The Zhao family's guard formations were even tighter than three years ago, and the air was filled with a faint smell of blood, indicating that Zhao Kun was still cultivating that sinister Sword Devouring Art.

Passing through several courtyards, Ling Yun arrived outside the Zhao family's training room. The training room window was not fully closed, leaving a gap. Heavy breathing could be heard from within. Ling Yun crept closer and peeked through the gap.

In the center of the training room, a burly middle-aged man, bare-chested, was circulating his cultivation technique. His skin had a strange dark red hue, and faint blood mist swirled around him. With every breath, countless tiny blood threads were absorbed into his body. This was the head of the Zhao family, the Sword Emperor realm expert, Zhao Kun.

Before Zhao Kun knelt a young cultivator, his face as pale as paper, trembling all over. Zhao Kun suddenly opened his eyes, a hint of bloodthirsty red flashing within them. He formed his right hand into a claw and suddenly grabbed at the cultivator's head.

"Puchi!"

A soft sound, and the cultivator's head exploded like a shattered watermelon, spraying blood and brain matter. Zhao Kun opened his mouth and inhaled. A ball of blood-colored light flew out from the cultivator's corpse and was swallowed by him. His aura instantly strengthened a few points, and the dark red hue of his skin deepened.

"The Sword Devouring Art is indeed potent. It's a pity this body's sword soul is too weak; it's not of much use," Zhao Kun licked the blood from the corner of his mouth, his tone chillingly devoid of humanity.

Ling Yun, hiding outside the window, felt ice-cold, a chill rising from his feet to the crown of his head. He had personally witnessed the cultivator's soul being devoured by Zhao Kun, not even a wisp of it remaining. Such an evil technique was simply insane!

"The Ling family's Lingyun Sword Manual is indeed extraordinary. Although I only obtained half of it, it allowed my Sword Devouring Art to break through to the seventh level," Zhao Kun walked to the side, picking up the half-scroll of the sword manual from the table, greed in his eyes. "It's a pity the other half's whereabouts are unknown. If I could find the complete manual, perhaps I could break through to the Sword Venerable Realm!"

Ling Yun's heart skipped a beat. So the Zhao family had only obtained half the manual. The other half must have been buried on Burial Sword Slope with his parents' bodies. If not for the Sky-Rending Sword's awakening today, he would probably never have known how important his family's sword manual was.

Just then, Zhao Kun seemed to sense something and abruptly turned his head towards the window. "Who's outside?"

A powerful spiritual pressure instantly locked onto Ling Yun, pressing down on him like a mountain, making it difficult to breathe. Ling Yun's face changed drastically, and he turned to run. He knew that with Zhao Kun's strength, if he were caught, he would surely die.

"You're asking for death!" Zhao Kun roared, his figure flashing as he appeared outside the training room. He watched Ling Yun's retreating back, killing intent flashing in his eyes. With a wave of his right hand, a bloody sword energy shot towards Ling Yun's back.

Ling Yun felt a chill down his spine. At the brink of death, the incomplete sword manual in his sea of consciousness suddenly grew warm, and the Sky-Rending Sword in his dantian vibrated slightly. Instinctively, he followed the sword move diagrams in his sea of consciousness, dodging the sword energy by sidestepping. At the same time, he employed a profound footwork technique, his speed suddenly increasing.

"Hmm? This footwork... is it 'Treading Snow Without Trace' from the Lingyun Sword Manual?" Zhao Kun was taken aback for a moment, then his eyes flashed with ecstasy. "So you're a remnant of the Ling Family! It's truly a case of searching high and low for something, only to find it when you least expect it!"

His figure moved again, his speed several times faster than Ling Yun's. In the blink of an eye, he caught up. Bloody sword energy rained down, sealing off all of Ling Yun's escape routes.

Ling Yun gritted his teeth, the spiritual energy in his dantian circulating madly. The sword intent techniques in his sea of consciousness instantly activated. He casually picked up a withered branch from the ground and, following the basic sword stances of the Qiankun Sword Canon, slashed towards the foremost sword energy.

"Crack!"

The withered branch collided with the bloody sword energy. Instead of breaking immediately, it actually deflected the sword energy by a few inches. Ling Yun used the recoil to accelerate again, running towards the outside of the Zhao Family compound.

"Interesting!" Zhao Kun became even more excited. "A mere early-stage Sword Apprentice can actually block my sword energy. The Chaos Sword Body is indeed extraordinary! If I capture you, not only will I obtain the complete sword manual, but perhaps I can also extract the secrets of the Chaos Sword Body from you!"

He no longer held back his strength. Blood mist surged around him, and his figure transformed into a bloody shadow, relentlessly pursuing Ling Yun. The Zhao Family guards along the way heard the commotion and rushed over, only to be repelled by Zhao Kun's aura.

Ling Yun gave his all, his feet moving in the 'Treading Snow Without Trace' footwork as he weaved through the alleyways of Qingfeng Town. He could feel the killing intent behind him growing closer, the shadow of death clinging to him like a parasite.

"Sky-Rending Sword, aid me!" Ling Yun cried out in his heart.

The Sky-Rending Sword in his dantian suddenly erupted with a dark light, merging into his legs. Ling Yun felt his body lighten, his speed surging once more. He shot out of the Zhao Family mansion like an arrow released from a bow, heading towards Burial Sword Slope outside the town.

"Trying to run?" Zhao Kun snorted coldly and was about to give chase, but suddenly stopped. He looked in the direction Ling Yun had disappeared, a hint of apprehension in his eyes. "Burial Sword Slope has residual protective formations of the Ling Family. Although they are damaged, they are still troublesome. Moreover, pursuing him late at night, if seen by people from other sword sects, it might lead to criticism."

He pondered for a moment, then instructed the steward who had rushed over behind him, "Pass down the order to seal all exits of Qingfeng Town and search for any suspicious individuals. That brat possesses the Chaos Sword Body; he can't run far! Also, send someone to keep an eye on Burial Sword Slope. He will definitely return there!"

"Yes, Patriarch!" The steward quickly took his orders.

Zhao Kun stood in place, gazing in the direction of Burial Sword Slope, a sinister glint in his eyes. "Remnant of the Ling Family, you won't escape this time!"

On Burial Sword Slope, Ling Yun collapsed before his parents' graves, gasping for breath. The chase just now had been like a nightmare. If not for the final burst of power from the Sky-Rending Sword, he would likely have become Zhao Kun's vanquished soul.

"That was close..." Ling Yun wiped the cold sweat from his forehead, his heart still pounding violently.

He knew he could no longer stay in Qingfeng Town. Zhao Kun would surely launch a large-scale search; he had to leave immediately and head to the Flowing Cloud Sword Sect.

Ling Yun kowtowed three times to the graves again, his eyes resolute. "Father, Mother, Eldest Brother, I'm leaving now. When I return after completing my training, I will definitely make the Zhao Family pay their blood debt!"

He stood up, not looking back, and walked in the direction of the Qingyun Region. The night was deep, and the wind was biting cold, but it could not extinguish the light in his eyes.

In his dantian, the Sky-Rending Sword floated quietly, emitting a faint dark glow. In his sea of consciousness, the sword move diagrams of the Qiankun Sword Canon slowly circulated. A young man burdened by a deep-seated hatred, a ancient sword that had slept for millennia, and an incomplete ancient sword canon quietly began the prelude to a legend on this late autumn night.

The road ahead was long and fraught with peril, but a blazing fire ignited in Ling Yun's heart. He knew that his path of the sword had only just begun.