Supreme Being: The Sword of True Martial Arts

News of the Spirit Mountain Gathering arrived even faster than Lin Yan and his group. Three days after leaving the circular valley, they first heard rumors about Spirit Mountain in a small town called "Qingxia" in southwestern Jin. It was said that deep within the southern borders, a thousand fragments of sword intent had burst forth during the reinforcement of an ancient seal, with several falling into the outer Bloodwood Forest and being picked up by a few herb-gathering rogue cultivators. These fragments contained the sword dao insights of four Dharma Body sword cultivators from a thousand years ago—the sharpness of the Tai Xu sword cultivator, the destruction of the Zi Lei sword cultivator, the protection of the Xuanjia swordsman, and the true meaning of the bamboo sword of the ancient guardian sword cultivator. Although only fragments, they were like rain after a long drought for sword cultivators who had been stuck at their bottlenecks for many years.

Those rogue cultivators sold the fragments to passing disciples of the East Sea Sword Manor, earning a large sum of silver and pills, and the news spread quickly. The six sword-wielding sects, the eight great families, and countless rogue cultivators were all rushing towards the Southern Frontier. Although the entrance to Mount Ling had been reinforced and sealed off, the fragments of sword intent that had shattered outside the seal were scattered among the Bloodwood Forest and Sword Leaf Forest; whoever found them would have a stroke of good fortune.

Lin Yan sat on a long bench in a teahouse at the entrance of Qingxia Town, slowly sipping tea from a rough earthenware bowl. An old orange cat and a gray cat sat side-by-side by the table, their six and a half legs tucked under their bellies, their tails swaying gently. Outside the teahouse, sword-wielding martial artists rode by on horseback, raising clouds of dust. A disciple of the Zhenwu Sect, seeing the Taixu Sword and bamboo sword at Lin Yan's waist, reined in his horse, intending to approach and pay his respects, but Lin Yan waved him off, indicating it wasn't necessary. He didn't want to be recognized—the news of the Lingshan Gathering had spread, along with the name of Lin Yan, the Hidden Edge Sword, and the story of how the four swords had gathered to reinforce the seal. Twentieth on the Human Ranking, a top expert at the fourth level of the Outer Realm, possessing three of the four keys. Such a reputation was too conspicuous in a small place like Qingxia Town.

Jiang Zhiwei sat opposite him, the White Rainbow Piercing the Sun sword resting across her lap, slowly sipping her tea. The rounded notch on the sword, nurtured by time, resembled a long-healed old wound in the afternoon sunlight. Lu Chen, carrying a large, gray-black sword on his back, sat to Lin Yan's left, a pale blue tassel hanging in front of his chest, the young man's slender back ramrod straight. Su Muyun sat on the outermost side, the Azure Edge sword resting across his lap, its azure blade reflecting the dust rising outside the teahouse after the rain, like a piece of color cut from the sky after the rain. Luo Shengyi, Meng Qi, Zhen Ding, Qi Xia, Qi Zhengyan, Ye Guichen, and Gu Qing sat around two square tables pushed together, the tea in their rough earthenware bowls reflecting the high, distant autumn sky of southern Xinjiang.

Su Muyun put down his teacup. "From Qingxia Town southwest, past the outer edge of the Bloodwood Forest lies the Sword Leaf Forest. Most of the sword intent fragments that shattered after the seal was reinforced are scattered in that area. Many people from the six sword-wielding sects have already arrived, including those from the East Sea Sword Manor, the Hidden Sword Pavilion, and the Great River Gang. The Huanhua Sword Sect is led by Chu Lingyun, who arrived last night. Also, the Cui family of Pingjin, with Cui Mingxuan coming in person. All parties have set up camp outside the Sword Leaf Forest, waiting for the fragments to settle from the aftershocks of the seal. The entrance to Ling Mountain remains sealed, and no one can enter. But the fragments are scattered on the outskirts; whoever finds them can keep them. This is the greatest opportunity in the Southern Frontier in a thousand years, and no one wants to miss it." His gaze fell on Lin Yan. "Young Master Lin, you possess three of the four swords: Tai Xu, Bamboo Sword, and Po Jun. The lingering sword intent from when the seal was reinforced still remains on your swords, naturally attracting the scattered fragments. If you enter the Sword Leaf Forest, the fragments will come to you on their own. All the forces understand this, which is why they are all waiting for you. Only when you arrive will the fragments truly begin to choose their masters. If you do not arrive, the fragments will remain suspended in the air, and no one can forcibly take them."

Lin Yan looked down at the deep golden tassel of the bamboo sword at his waist. After the seal was reinforced, the tassel's color deepened further, changing from honey to amber. Hundreds of fragments of sword intent within it were momentarily immersed in the sealing light, each piece coated with a faint hue of dawn—the color of the "First" flower on the seventh leaf. They were indeed waiting. Waiting for him to enter the Sword Leaf Forest, waiting for him to use the lingering sword intent of the four swords to awaken the sword dao insights of the four sword cultivators from a thousand years ago within the fragments. The fragments were not inanimate objects; they were wisps of sword intent peeled from the sword hearts of the four sword cultivators when they sealed their mad thoughts. The thousand-year operation of the seal during its reinforcement had shaken them awake from their slumber. They weren't burst forth; they flew out on their own—sensing the aura of the four swords gathering, they flew out from the depths of the seal to see who the "next generation" was. After seeing, they would choose who to follow.

"Then let's go." Lin Yan placed the teacup on the table. "They've waited a thousand years; let them see what the next generation looks like."

Everyone stood up. The old orange cat and the gray cat jumped off the table, their three and a half legs stepping over the threshold of the teahouse, following at Lin Yan's feet. After leaving the south gate of Qingxia Town, the official road turned into a gravel path, the poplar trees on both sides gradually thinning out, replaced by low, twisted shrubs from the southern frontier. After walking for about two hours, a dark red canopy appeared on the horizon—the Bloodwood Forest had arrived.

As expected, tents were pitched all over the open space surrounding the Bloodwood Forest. The banners of the six sword-wielding sects fluttered in the autumn wind. There was the Azure Lotus Banner of the Huanhua Sword Sect, the Wave Banner of the Donghai Sword Manor, the Black Sword Banner of the Hidden Sword Pavilion, and the Water Pattern Banner of the Great River Gang. The banners of the eight great families were also present, with the Cui family's Ink Sword Banner being the most conspicuous. The independent cultivators, without banners, gathered in twos and threes at the edge of the open space, some sitting, some lying down, some sharpening their swords, some meditating, and some gazing blankly in the direction of the Sword Leaf Forest. Everyone was waiting.

As Lin Yan and his group emerged from the gravel path, the entire clearing fell silent for a moment. Countless gazes simultaneously fell upon the Taixu Sword and the bamboo sword at Lin Yan's waist. Lin Yan, the Hidden Edge Sword, possessed three of the four swords. The main force in reinforcing the seal, the one awaited by the fragments of Mount Ling.

Chu Lingyun emerged from the tent of the Huanhua Sword Sect, his moon-white robe fluttering slightly in the autumn breeze. Seeing Lin Yan, he quickly approached. "Brother Lin, you've finally arrived. The fragments have been hanging motionless above the Sword Leaf Forest since last night, as if waiting for something. We've tried countless methods—drawing them with sword intent, absorbing them with true energy, even using nets—but the fragments haven't moved an inch. They're waiting for you." He paused. "Also, Cui Mingxuan asked me to pass on a message. The Cui family doesn't want the fragments; they're just here to watch over them on behalf of the Qinghe family head. He said that after the fragments recognize their master, the Cui family would like to invite you for a cup of tea."

Lin Yan recalled Cui Qinghe's appearance when he returned the sword tip outside the Sword Leaf Forest. He wore a long blue robe, carried a black jade longsword, and held in his palm the piece of black jade-colored bamboo that had been nurtured for a thousand years. He said, "The Cui family has guarded this sword tip for a thousand years; today we return it." After returning it, he turned and left without saying another word. The Cui family didn't want the fragment; they only came to watch—to watch the fragment return home, to watch future generations grasp the sword. The sword observer watches the sword for a thousand years; the Cui family watches the sword for others for a thousand years. Having watched for a thousand years, seeing future generations grasp the sword, that was enough.

"No need for tea. I'll remember Senior Cui's favor." Lin Yan walked past the tent area toward the edge of the sword-leaf forest.

The silvery-white tree trunks gleamed warmly in the autumn sun, and countless sword-like leaves rubbed gently in the wind, the metallic sound much softer than before the seal. After the seal was reinforced, most of the "fear" within the Sword Leaf Forest dissipated—the "fear of betrayal" left in the tree trunks by the Taixu sword cultivators when they planted the trees was seen by Jiang Zhiwei, caught by Lin Yan's "care," and gently supported by the sealing pillar of light. The trees were still there, the fear was still there, but it was no longer heavy. Deep within the Sword Leaf Forest, dozens of points of light hung in mid-air, each a fragment of sword intent. Taixu's sharpness was silvery-white, Purple Lightning's destruction was pale purple, Xuanjia's protection was grayish-black, and the ancient guardian sword cultivators' bamboo sword essence was a very pale cyan. The four-colored points of light hung between the silvery-white tree crowns, like stars scattered by the wind. They were waiting.

Lin Yan entered the Sword Leaf Forest. The Bamboo Sword, the Taixu Sword, and the Pojun Sword simultaneously unsheathed themselves, hovering before him. The lingering sword intent from the four swords gathering during the seal's reinforcement emanated from the three blades, transforming into a faint ripple that spread outwards. The ripple touched the first silver-white fragment—the sharpness of the Taixu Sword cultivator—and the fragment trembled slightly, like an awakened infant, rising from its hovering position and slowly flying towards Lin Yan. It wasn't drawn in; it flew there on its own. Reaching the Taixu Sword, it circled the blade once, as if examining the person who would wield the Taixu Sword a thousand years later. Then, it gently landed on the hilt, transforming into an extremely fine silver-white line. The Taixu Sword had recognized its master for a thousand years; this was the first fragment to return to the sword in that millennium.

The second fragment, pale purple, represented the destruction of the Purple Lightning Sword Cultivator. It circled around Lin Yan's dantian—where the Purple Lightning Sword Heart resided. Sensing the shared destructive sword intent, the fragment gently landed on Lin Yan's chest, transforming into a pale purple line that disappeared into his skin, merging into the Purple Lightning Sword Heart in his dantian. The Purple Lightning Sword Heart trembled slightly, like finally receiving a letter from its third brother after a thousand years. The third, fourth, and fifth fragments drifted in one after another from where they had been hovering, each finding its own place. The sharpness of the Void returned to the Void Sword, the destruction of the Purple Lightning returned to the Purple Lightning Sword Heart, the protection of the Xuanjia drifted towards the gray-black greatsword on Lu Chen's back, and the true meaning of the bamboo sword of the ancient guardian sword cultivator drifted towards the bamboo sword at Lin Yan's waist. There was no struggle, no hesitation. They had waited for a thousand years, knowing long ago who they should follow.

As the last fragment drifted by, movement occurred outside the Sword Leaf Forest. It wasn't someone from the Six Sword-Wielding Sects, but a tall, thin figure draped in an animal-skin cloak among the scattered cultivators. A Grandmaster at the sixth level of the Outer Realm, having already crossed the second level of the Heavenly Ladder. A member of the Demonic Sect. He had endured the journey, blending in with the scattered cultivators and waiting for Lin Yan to enter the depths of the Sword Leaf Forest. Now that all the fragments had recognized their masters, Lin Yan was only accompanied by Jiang Zhiwei and Lu Chen—one at the fourth level of the Outer Realm, one at the first level, and a Qi Accumulation stage youth. His opportunity had arrived.

A thin, incredibly fast, crimson sword light pierced out from beneath the animal-hide cloak, not aimed at Lin Yan, but at the fragment of the Xuanjia Guardian that Lu Chen's gray-black greatsword had just received. The fragment had just landed on the hilt and hadn't fully merged into the blade; this was Lu Chen's only chance to seize it. This sword strike had been brewing for a long time; it was a full-force attack from a sixth-level Outer Realm Grandmaster, so fast that even Jiang Zhiwei's White Rainbow Piercing the Sun Sword didn't have time to be drawn.

Lu Chen sensed the sword wind behind him. The slender youth didn't turn around, but simply gripped the hilt with both hands, using all his strength to pull the gray-black greatsword from his back. It wasn't a thrust, nor a slash, but a "collision." The fragment of the Xuanjia Guardian that had just been absorbed onto the hilt was still faintly glowing, gently touched by the warmth of his hands. The fragment completely merged into the blade, and the gray-black greatsword thrust out on its own, its tip colliding with the sword light of the Demonic Sect Grandmaster. The two swords met before the youth. One was a blood-red sneak attack long prepared by a Grandmaster of the sixth level of the Outer Realm, the other was a thousand-year-old guardian held by the hands of a youth in the Qi Accumulation stage. Sword tip against sword tip.

Lu Chen's hand split open, blood dripping from the hilt of his sword. His thin shoulders trembled violently, but he didn't loosen his grip. The century-old protective sword intent of the Xuanjia swordsman on the gray-black greatsword fully awakened—not by being urged, but by the sword itself—sensing that its master's successor was facing a sneak attack, sensing that someone was trying to steal the fragments as soon as they returned home. In that instant, a thousand years of protection poured into the sword. The demonic sect master's sword tip pressed against the gray-black blade, unable to advance an inch further. It wasn't blocked, but "caught." The protective sword intent didn't attack; it simply caught. It caught his sneak attack.

Jiang Zhiwei's White Rainbow Piercing the Sun Sword arrived. "Sword of Selflessness" pierced the Demonic Sect Grandmaster's sword momentum at its waning moment. The Supreme Sword Scripture cleaved through illusion, revealing the most genuine flaw deep within his sword strike—not the technique, but the thought itself. His ambush of Lu Chen wasn't due to a Demonic Sect mission, but jealousy. Jealousy that a mere Qi Accumulation stage youth could gain the thousand-year protection and recognition of the Xuanjia Swordsman, while he himself, at the sixth level of the Outer Realm, didn't even recognize a single fragment of him. Jealousy was the most vulnerable crack deep within his sword heart.

The sword tip pierced the crack. Not by cutting it open, but by gently stabbing it in. Like a needle pricking a festering wound, the pus and blood flowed out, and the wound actually healed. The Demonic Sect Master groaned, the blood-red longsword slipped from his hand, and he stumbled back several steps, leaning against the silvery-white trunk of the Sword Leaf Tree. Jiang Zhiwei did not pursue, but sheathed her sword.

The demonic master looked down at his sword-wielding hand. His tiger's mouth was unharmed, and his sword intent was intact, but the jealous fissure deep within his sword heart was now hollowed out. The empty space allowed the wind to enter. He stood there for a long time, then bent down to pick up the blood-red longsword and sheathed it, bowing to Lu Chen. "Thank you." He turned and walked out of the Sword Leaf Forest, disappearing into the dark red shadows of the Bloodwood Forest.

Lu Chen's hands were still trembling, blood from his tiger's mouth dripping from the sword hilt onto the silvery-white fallen leaves of the Sword Leaf Forest. But his grip on the sword was more steady than ever before. The pale blue runes on the hilt of the gray-black greatsword—the words the Xuanjia swordsman had left for his fourth brother a thousand years ago—had gained a faint golden edge after the fragments merged with them. That was something the sword had grown out of itself after Lu Chen's blood from his tiger's mouth seeped into the hilt. The boy had warmed the sword with his blood, and the sword remembered that temperature with its golden edge.

Su Muyun walked over from the edge of the Sword Leaf Forest, his Qingfeng Sword hanging at his waist. He hadn't intervened when the Demonic Sect Grandmaster attacked—not because he was too late, but because he saw Jiang Zhiwei's sword already thrust out. He walked to Lu Chen's side, took a clean white cloth from his sleeve, and knelt down to bandage the young man's hand wound. He bandaged it slowly and steadily, circle by circle. Lu Chen looked down at the bandaged hand and suddenly said, "Senior Su, I wasn't afraid just now."

Su Muyun didn't look up. "Because you knew you would catch the sword."

Lu Chen thought for a moment and nodded.

All the fragments in the Sword Leaf Forest have now recognized their masters. The silvery-white canopy has returned to its emptiness, with only millions of sword leaves gently rubbing against each other in the autumn breeze, the metallic sound softer than before. The seal has been reinforced, the fragments have returned home, and most of the "fear" in the Sword Leaf Forest has dissipated. The remaining small portion is not out of fear of disappointment, but out of fear that the hands of those who come after will grow cold when they wield the sword. That little bit of fear is good to leave, so that the trees will remember the warmth of the palms of the Taixu Sword Cultivator when they planted them.

The group camped at the edge of the Sword Leaf Forest. Chu Lingyun brought dry rations and tea prepared by the Huanhua Sword Sect, while He Chaosheng from the Donghai Sword Manor brought medicine for Lu Chen's wounds. The people from the Hidden Sword Pavilion didn't come, but stood watching from a distance outside the tent, their gazes fixed on the Taixu Sword at Lin Yan's waist—the Taixu Sword Cultivator was one of the origins of the Hidden Sword Pavilion's sword path, and the Taixu Sword's recognition of Lin Yan as its master stirred complex emotions in the Hidden Sword Pavilion disciples. Qi Xia from the Great River Gang was summoned by several incense masters and returned with a grim expression. "Several incense masters in the gang have defected to Han Guang, and the gang leader is investigating. They sold the Southern Frontier waterway to the Demonic Sect; the Great River Gang owes the Six Sword-Holding Sects an explanation." She sat by the campfire, a water-splitting thorn stuck at her feet, and a Tang flower pattern pasted beside her. The patterns on the edges of the petals were mostly carved, only the last petal missing. Qi Zhengyan's ancient sword lay across his lap, the drop of rain that had been hanging in his dantian for days still lingering.

Ye Guichen's Pine-Patterned Ancient Sword rested across his lap, its demon-slaying golden light and pale blue rain intent completely merging. The tomb keeper's handsome face was somewhat pale—when the fragments recognized their master, several fragments of destruction from the Purple Lightning Sword Cultivator floated towards him, circling around the Pine-Patterned Ancient Sword. It seemed to recognize the family aura that had protected the Purple Lightning Sword Heart for a thousand years, before gently settling onto the sword, transforming into several extremely faint purple patterns. The fragments weren't recognizing him as their master; they were offering a greeting. A thousand years of tomb guarding, you've worked hard.

Gu Qing's blood-red patterned lightsaber rested across his lap, his blue eyes reflecting the campfire. The fragments of Mount Ling no longer devoured his life force, though the hidden wounds from his century-long escape remained. On the night the seal was reinforced, he sat by the altar all night, not speaking to Mad Thoughts—Mad Thoughts had fallen asleep within the pillar of light, its warmth absorbed, and its madness had subsided. He didn't need to speak. Incompleteness to incompleteness, that was enough. The campfire crackled, sparks flying into the night sky, mingling with the Guardian Star. The night in Southern Xinjiang remained as deep as ever.

Meng Qi suddenly spoke up: "Senior Brother Lin, the Six Doors also know about the Lingshan Gathering. We saw their signal fire on our way to the Southern Frontier, and the Silver Sword Guards and Shadow Sword Guards are all rushing this way. Strengthening the seal is a major event in the martial world, as is the recognition of the fragments by their masters. You, with your four swords, possess three of them, and most of the fragments belong to you and Lu Chen. The Six Doors will definitely come looking for you, not to cause trouble, but to make a record. Your ranking on the Earthly Ranking will probably be affected."

Lin Yan poked at the campfire with a twig. "Let's move then. The rankings are made by others, but you wield the sword yourself."

The young monk Zhen Ding curled up beside Lu Chen, his moon-white robe wrapped tightly around him, clutching a wild fruit he had brought from Qingxia Town. The fruit was already somewhat wilted, but he still held it tightly. "Benefactor Lin, the seal has been reinforced, and the fragments have returned home. Feng Nian has fallen asleep, and his warmth has been restored. Where do we go next?" He paused, "Back to Yu Lu? I can still have another bowl of Benefactor Su's fish soup."

Su Muyun held his Qingfeng sword across his lap, its azure blade reflecting the firelight after the rain. "The door to the Rain Pavilion is open. You can go back anytime if you want fish soup. However, the Spirit Mountain Gathering is not over yet; the fragments recognizing their masters is just the beginning. There are more sword intent fragments overflowing from the depths of the seal than these; there may be four more complete sword dao inheritances deep within. The various forces will not disperse because of these few fragments; they will stay in the Southern Frontier for a long time. You are the masters of these fragments, and they will not let you leave easily."

Lin Yan gazed at the campfire. The Taixu Sword and the Bamboo Sword lay across his lap, the Pojun Sword hanging at his waist. The dawn-colored flower on the seventh leaf of the Dharma Image Tree, after the seal was reinforced, swayed gently, neither withering nor growing, simply blooming. After the first flower bloomed, the ninth leaf had not yet arrived. It was still waiting. Waiting for another "beginning."

The guardian star veered overhead. The autumn nights in southern Xinjiang were long, and no one spoke by the campfire. The old orange cat and the gray cat sat side-by-side beside Lin Yan, their six and a half legs tucked under their bellies, their tails swaying slowly. They, too, were waiting.