A warrior from a free faction arrived at the ancient Black Forest, where countless black-clad bodies lay scattered across the devastated land. The scene was bleak and harrowing. He quickly recognized these people — the Night Clan: traitors to humanity, outcasts, and puppets of demons.
The thousands of corpses, stained into the crimson earth, shook the warrior to his core. It was clear that a fierce battle had taken place here, and the Night Clan had been decisively routed. In the air, he sensed an overwhelming presence of sword qi — a ruthless, terrifying force. Among all the martial paths, sword cultivation was the fastest and deadliest, and those capable of wielding such speed and power were exceedingly rare. This was the mark of a Sword Emperor.
News of this spread rapidly across the land. People were once again awestruck by the devastating might of a Sword Emperor. A single being at this level had been able to take on tens of thousands of opponents — the sheer destructive force was staggering. The Sword Emperor's power was terrifying enough, but what frightened everyone even more were his methods: the bodies were almost all mutilated beyond recognition, heads severed, limbs scattered. The scene beneath the cliff was littered with dark blood clots, a hellish landscape like that of a realm of demons. The ruler of the Sword Domain — the Sword Emperor — had unleashed his thunderous wrath, leaving many in dread.
Several days later, at dawn, Feng Yunwuji walked solemnly into the Sword Pavilion. His once-pristine clothes were stained with spots of blood. Chi Shang approached and asked anxiously, "Master, what exactly happened?"
Feng Yunwuji looked weary and replied, "This matter cannot be explained to you all just yet. When the time comes, I will tell you." He then dragged his tired body up to the pavilion's third floor.
Sitting alone on the smooth floor of the third level, Feng Yunwuji faced the open windows of the Sword Pavilion. The gentle breeze drifted through, brushing against his cheek and lifting a few strands of hair.
Suddenly, soft footsteps echoed from downstairs and stopped at the entrance.
"Master, may I come in?" Chi Shang's voice called.
"Come in," Feng Yunwuji sighed.
Chi Shang quietly sat beside Feng Yunwuji, both gazing out as the sky gradually brightened and clouds shifted.
"A few days ago, thousands of our disciples from our realm ascended simultaneously — and all were lost," Feng Yunwuji said calmly, though a hint of anger and agitation lingered beneath his tone.
"What?!" Chi Shang was shaken to the core. They had already seen from nearby the bodies of Sword Sect disciples, lying in pools of blood, their hearts missing. They had sensed something terrible had happened, but never imagined that thousands of disciples would ascend together — and all but one, gravely wounded and unconscious, had perished.
"Who did this...?"
"It was the Night Clan. I have already slain every last one of them!" Feng Yunwuji gritted his teeth, his anger still burning. When that one disciple had called out for help in the dead of night — calling for his master — Feng Yunwuji had been helpless, forced to watch him fall. What kind of strength allowed a heartless man to fly such a distance, dragging himself here, hoping for rescue from a master he'd never met?
He called Feng Yunwuji "master" — and indeed, their martial arts all stemmed from the Demon-Slaying Heart Sutra, directly or indirectly taught by Feng Yunwuji himself. But as their master, what had he done for them?
That disciple's heart had been ripped out, and only his willpower kept him alive until he reached Feng Yunwuji. All his hope was pinned on this unknown master. But what could Feng Yunwuji do?
Wiping away the doubt, Feng Yunwuji questioned himself: Would wiping out the Night Clan bring those thousands back? Could it restore their lives? His heart filled with guilt. Once, he might have hesitated, faltered, or retreated — but not anymore.
No, not anymore.
Feng Yunwuji stood, clenching his right fist tightly. In his heart, he silently vowed that from now on, no disciple under his charge would suffer injustice.
One man might escape with lightness and grace, but now it was different. He was the lord of thousands of Sword Pavilion warriors and the pillar of strength for tens of thousands ascending from another realm. The burden on his shoulders was immense, but he would neither shirk nor back down.
Invisible sword qi surged around him, filling the space, forcing Chi Shang to retreat.
Quietly, Chi Shang stood at the entrance, watching his master's robes billow and sword qi rage. He could not fathom what resolution had settled in Feng Yunwuji's heart, but he felt unmistakably a shift — an aura of invincible courage, one that seemed to defy the world.
Silently, Chi Shang withdrew, knowing that at this moment, his master needed solitude more than comfort.
That day, Feng Yunwuji stood silently on the polished floor of the third floor, facing the vast land before the Sword Pavilion, speechless and motionless. One day passed into night, stars wheeling overhead. By morning, Feng Yunwuji heard a faint groan — the disciple had finally awakened.
"One person alone cannot hold the world," Feng Yunwuji thought through the long day, finally coming to a resolution: he would unite all swords under heaven, making this Sword Domain a paradise for swords.
On the pavilion's first floor, the newly ascended Sword Sect's senior disciple, Xiao Fei — the young man who had stood by the tree, gazing skyward — had finally woken. His eyes were unfocused as he murmured, "Save them… save them…"
Those who heard him felt a pang of sorrow. The first thing on this disciple's mind upon waking was not himself, but his fellow brothers and sisters.
"Wake up, Xiao Fei. This is no longer the wilderness — you're in the Sword Pavilion now," a Sword Pavilion warrior gently said.
A breeze swept by as Feng Yunwuji quietly appeared at the bedside.
"How is he?"
Upon seeing Feng Yunwuji, Xiao Fei's thoughts raced back to that night — the sky filled with blazing sword qi, and the legend of the Sword God's identity.
"Master Ancestor, please save them — please save them! They're being slaughtered, slaughtered… Master, you have to go!" Xiao Fei said urgently, his face full of desperation.
Everyone else looked away, unable to meet his eyes.
"They… are all dead…" Finally, Feng Yunwuji spoke the cruel truth.
"Dead? No… no, that's impossible! Brothers, sisters, and our beloved master… It can't be! Sword God Master Ancestor, your skills are unmatched — you can save them, right? You're lying to me, aren't you?"
Feng Yunwuji's heart twisted in pain, but he could only shake his head.
"Master…" Xiao Fei suddenly spat a mouthful of blood and collapsed…