Somewhere in a western province of the Star Luo Empire.
High above, the clouds were violently torn apart.
A dazzling streak of blood-red light cut across the sky like a meteor.
With a piercing whistle, it descended straight onto a precipitous mountaintop.
At the summit, a magnificent complex of buildings stood against the mountainside.
Its presence was stern and imposing.
On the towering stone gate at the very front.
A plaque bore three large characters carved with the flourish of soaring dragons and dancing phoenixes-
"Wind Sword Sect"!
"Humm-!"
Lu Xuan stood upon empty air, hovering directly above the mountain gate.
With a deep hum.
Light blazed beneath his feet, and eight terrifying Soul Rings that defied all common sense rose in succession: two purple, three black, two red, and one orange.
They pulsed slowly around his body.
In an instant, the terrifying pressure of a high-ranking Soul Douluo mingled with the suffocating slaughter aura of the Asura God Sword.
It spread through the air like a tsunami, pressing down until even the air across the entire mountaintop seemed to freeze.
"Who goes there! How dare you run wild in our Wind Sword Sect!"
With a furious, startled roar.
A violent torrent of azure air shot skyward, shattering the massive mountain gate.
A middle-aged man in azure robes, wearing an eye patch.
Appeared before Lu Xuan with a sharp gale pressing around him, an azure longsword in hand.
Lu Xuan looked down at him from above and, with a thought, slowly reined in his overwhelmingly oppressive aura.
His voice was calm, but carried an unquestionable resolve. "Lu Xuan. I have come to request an audience with the sect master of the Wind Sword Sect."
The middle-aged man's pupil contracted slightly.
His gaze fixed on the two glaring red hundred-thousand-year Soul Rings around Lu Xuan and that utterly unheard-of orange Soul Ring.
His grip on his sword tightened involuntarily, and he spoke cautiously in a low voice:
"I am Feng Bailong, sect master of the Wind Sword Sect. May I ask what brings you here?"
"I have come to discuss the sword."
Lu Xuan looked straight into his eye and posed the question that had been troubling him.
"May I ask, Sect Master Feng, what conviction sustains your grip on the sword in your hand?"
Feng Bailong froze for a moment, clearly not expecting such a question from someone who had arrived with such an aggressive presence.
But he soon straightened his back, fierce determination and pride blazing in his eye:
"To uphold our Wind Sword Sect's standing on the continent!"
"For the future of the hundreds upon thousands of disciples of our Wind Sword Sect!"
"No matter how powerful the enemy I face, I must never put down the sword in my hand!"
He abruptly raised his azure longsword, its ring like the howl of the wind:
"The Wind Sword is the foundation upon which our Wind Sword Sect stands on this continent!"
"If the Wind Sword Sect declines in my hands, our ancestors will never forgive me, nor will I forgive myself!"
"Well said-for the sake of your sect's legacy." A flicker of understanding crossed Lu Xuan's eyes, followed by a rising will to fight.
"Then, Sect Master Feng, please let me witness this sword that carries your sect's future!"
"Lu Xuan, rank 83 Soul Douluo. Please instruct me!"
The moment he finished speaking, Lu Xuan thrust out his right hand.
The Asura God Sword hovering beneath his feet gave a bloodthirsty cry of delight and instantly fell into his palm.
"Humm-!"
The mysterious and terrifying orange Eighth Soul Ring behind him abruptly lit up.
Its dazzling radiance dyed half the sky blood-red.
Holding his sword in one hand, Lu Xuan unleashed a surge of bloody light from its blade, its almost tangible killing intent soaring into the clouds.
"Life-Severing Slash!" Lu Xuan swung his sword.
There were no elaborate flourishes.
Only a blood-red sword gleam, pure to the utmost, seemingly capable of severing all life.
It tore through space and slashed straight down at Feng Bailong's head!
Feng Bailong's pupil instantly shrank to the size of a needlepoint.
Before this sword strike, every hair on his body stood on end.
A sense of mortal danger frantically assaulted his nerves.
One careless move, and I'll die!
"Seventh Soul Skill, Martial Soul Avatar!"
"Eighth Soul Skill, Wind's Extremity!"
At the brink of life and death, Feng Bailong roared.
The seventh and eighth Soul Rings behind him erupted with dazzling light simultaneously.
Fierce winds rose, heaven and earth changed color, and his entire body merged with the Wind Sword in his hand.
He transformed into two enormous azure tornadoes of sword light that spanned heaven and earth.
They howled toward the blood-red sword gleam!
"Bang-RUMBLE!!!"
Bloody light and azure radiance collided violently in midair.
Terrifying waves of air exploded outward like a nuclear blast.
The violent shock wave swept down, uprooting and snapping hundreds upon thousands of towering forest trees at the waist like fragile stalks of wheat.
The entire mountain trembled violently, as though it might collapse at any moment.
At the center of the storm, the light was too dazzling to look at directly.
A moment later, the fierce winds gradually subsided.
In midair, Lu Xuan's expression remained calm as he slowly drew the Asura God Sword back to his side.
"Thank you for obliging me, Sect Master."
He inclined his head slightly.
Then, with a tap of his toes, he stepped onto the Asura God Sword again, turned into a streak of bloody light, and rode his sword away through the sky without the slightest hesitation.
Only after Lu Xuan's figure had vanished completely did the dust filling the sky slowly disperse.
Before the Wind Sword Sect's mountain gate lay an enormous chasm dozens of meters long, its bottom nowhere in sight!
The edges of the chasm were as smooth as a mirror.
Heart-chilling blood-red light still lingered within.
It continually leaked a bone-piercingly cold aura of slaughter.
Feng Bailong stood dazed at the edge of the chasm, utterly disheveled.
His splendid azure robes were in tatters.
Fine sword wounds covered his body, and blood stained the front of his robes red.
His sword hand trembled violently, the web between his thumb and forefinger already split open.
"What a terrifying sword strike... Where on this continent did such a monster come from!"
He gazed in the direction Lu Xuan had left, murmuring in a trembling voice.
He knew perfectly well that, had Lu Xuan not reined in his sword intent at the last moment.
That attack would have left him gravely wounded and crippled, even if it had not killed him.
Deep in the mountain forest not far from the Wind Sword Sect.
An elderly man with a physique as imposing as an iron tower hid soundlessly amid the dense treetops.
"What a lad! With that sword strike alone, he already possesses the absolute strength to rival any Titled Douluo below rank 95!"
Golden Crocodile Douluo's eyes were filled with shock and admiration, and he could not help stroking his beard in wonder.
Clearly, the terrifying combat strength Lu Xuan had just displayed had given Spirit Hall's Second Worship an enormous, pleasant surprise.
"Judging by the direction he's flying, he's probably heading to the Heaven Dou Empire."
Golden Crocodile Douluo put away the shock in his eyes and, with a flicker, transformed into a concealed streak of golden light, following from afar.
Several days later, Lu Xuan crossed the vast distance and entered the Heaven Dou Empire.
He had not stopped along the way.
He headed straight for Nuoding City in Fasinuo Province.
At last, he arrived at Sword Dao Village, the place that held his childhood memories.
To avoid causing a commotion.
He reined in all his aura outside the village.
He landed soundlessly in his familiar little courtyard at the end of the village.
The courtyard had been swept clean; clearly, someone came to tend it often.
Just as Lu Xuan was surveying his surroundings, he suddenly heard movement inside the house.
"Creak-"
The wooden door was pushed open.
An elderly man with graying hair and a stooped figure emerged from the house carrying a basin of water.
"Hello, who are you looking for?"
Seeing a stranger suddenly standing in the courtyard, the old man froze for a moment.
He did not recognize him and merely asked with a hint of wariness.
As Lu Xuan looked at that familiar, wrinkle-lined face, a ripple stirred in the depths of his formerly icy heart.
He hurried forward, his voice trembling slightly. "Grandpa Village Chief, it's me! Xiao Xuan!"
"You're... Xiao Xuan?!!!"
The basin in the old village chief's hands fell to the ground with a clang, spilling water everywhere.
His cloudy eyes widened as he stared in shock at the slender, handsome youth before him.
The youth's long hair was casually tied into a ponytail.
His features no longer bore any trace of how he had looked back then.
The cold, grimly murderous air that radiated from his entire body, keeping others a thousand miles away.
Felt utterly unfamiliar to the old village chief.
He reached out a trembling hand, scarcely daring to believe it.
How had that little child who used to run around the village with a bright smile become like this?
That young face showed not the slightest trace of the vitality or expression that belonged to his age.
It was like a block of ice weathered by wind and frost.
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