A stairway of floating obsidian slabs spiraled into the sky, vanishing into the heart of a silver vortex above the Wailing Spirit Forest. Every step buzzed faintly with suppressed sword Qi, as though each one had once tasted the blood of cultivators long dead.
The entrance to the Nine Heavens Sword-Sealing Platform pulsed like a heartbeat.And it was hungry.
Jiang Yunfan stood at the base, hands behind his back, chipped sword at his waist and zither slung casually across his back.
Around him, over two hundred outer sect disciples braced themselves many from Heaven-Splitting Thunder Sect, others from Snow Jade Pavilion, Crimson Night Sect, and even rogue cultivators from minor factions invited to test their fate.
Some whispered. Some trembled. Most burned with ambition.
But Yunfan?
He didn't speak.
He didn't grin.
He just took a step forward and the air rippled like water under a storm.
"Enter!" Elder Thunderpeak's voice echoed across the mountaintop. "May fate judge you."
Disciples surged upward, some flying, some walking with caution.
Yunfan stepped onto the first stair.
A faint clang echoed from nowherelike a bell being struck in a temple that no longer existed.
Several cultivators ahead of him stumbled.
A few turned around to look at himeyes narrowing.
"Who… what pressure is that?"
Yunfan ignored them.
Another step.
Another ripple.
He walked through the vortex.
Within the Platform...
The world inside was vast and broken, a shattered sky realm of drifting stone islands, chained platforms, floating palaces, and dead forests of blade-like trees.
Sword marks littered everything etched into sky and stone alike.But no sword remained.
Only ruins.Only silence.
And then… whispers.
"A legacy is buried here..." "The Nascent Soul Swordmaster's trial..." "Find it before the others do!"
Immediately, groups scattered. Cries of spirit beasts echoed in the distance.
Exploration began.
Yunfan landed alone on a quiet fragment of cliff surrounded by sky and mist.A ruined statue of a kneeling swordsman faced the void.In its lap rested a broken slab etched with ancient script:
"Speak not your sword's name… Let it answer for you."
Yunfan's hand twitched near his sword.
A gust of wind blew by.
It carried a soft sound. A voice. No words just tone.
Resonance.
His sword hummed back.
He turned away and began walking toward the central ruin.
But ahead, chaos was already erupting.
Two disciples from a rogue sect had activated a glyph trap they didn't understand.
A bolt of Qi exploded outward slicing open one of their sleeves and launching him off the platform.
Screams echoed.
From another direction, an alchemy-focused disciple was vomiting blood from spiritual rejection. The platform had identified her as "unworthy of the sword path."
She'd never make it past the first gate.
And everywhere… the tension grew.
But Yunfan?
He just walked.
Every step he took was deliberate.
Every movement… soundless.
Elsewhere in the ruin...
Yao Ling'er slipped through shadow, tailing a Crimson Night squad.She plucked a petal from a spirit flower and whispered, "Let's see what you'll do, Thunder Fool…"
Above, Mu Qingxue stood on a frozen sky bridge, sword drawn, fending off two disciples from rival sects.But her gaze kept flicking toward the center of the ruin.
"Why do I feel his presence already? What is he hiding…"
And far, far ahead at the heart of the shattered sky realm three ancient sword altars shimmered to life.
Above them, in sealed chains, a translucent blade floated.
Its name had been lost to time.
But now…It stirred.
Because someone who had not declared their Sword Intent had stepped forward.
And still, the sword had heard him.