Ximen Yibei had taken up residence on the fourth floor of the Sword Pavilion. Before ascending, he remarked that he had recently sensed the stirrings of a breakthrough and intended to enter a prolonged period of seclusion. During this time, he would shut off his six senses, cutting off all contact with the outside world.
Dugu Qiubai returned to the cliffside cave, while Fengyun Wuji instructed Chi Shang to occasionally tend to Ximen Yibei's quarters—sweeping the dust and keeping the space in order. Then, Fengyun Wuji quietly settled into meditation on the third floor of the pavilion.
Above him, Ximen Yibei's aura gradually faded, growing fainter and fainter until it vanished from Fengyun Wuji's perception entirely—leaving the fourth floor feeling utterly vacant, as if no one was there at all.
At that moment, the memory of Ximen Yibei's sword strike resurfaced in Fengyun Wuji's mind. He crossed his hands above his knees, emptying his thoughts. That dazzling arc of swordlight—like a comet blazing across the void—appeared once more in his mental space, illuminating the surrounding darkness.
Fengyun Wuji began simulating the sword intent Ximen Yibei had released in that moment. Using the direct imprint captured by his divine sense, he recreated the image of that swordlight in his consciousness. With his superhuman cognitive speed and ability to divide his attention, he began analyzing and evolving that comet-like brilliance from countless angles at once.
At first, his mind was a pitch-black void, pierced only by that blinding streak of light. Gradually, the space seemed to divide, and beside the original arc, another swordlight emerged—slightly different, its glow somewhat dimmer. Then came a third, even dimmer still.
Through relentless mental calculation, Fengyun Wuji produced an unending stream of radiant swordlights in his consciousness. His awareness split into countless threads, each one exploring a different trajectory, a different evolution of the swordlight. Each path of deduction led in a different direction.
The dimmer the glow, the clearer the sword within it became. And with each increment in clarity, the sword intent radiating from Fengyun Wuji's physical body intensified.
Time held no meaning within the sea of consciousness—only infinite rehearsal and deduction existed. To uncover the essence of that sword at the fastest speed possible, Fengyun Wuji simultaneously processed tens of thousands of swordlight iterations. And the number was still rising.
Even for someone with Fengyun Wuji's formidable mind, the task was exhausting. Some of the glowing images began to flicker, trembling under the immense load.
Unconsciously, the internal cultivation method of the Sword-Intent Manifestation Body began to operate on its own. It ran faster and faster, and at some point, a small stream of true qi deviated from its usual meridian path, flowing into an obscure, rarely used channel before rejoining the main circuit.
In that instant, his entire mental realm quaked. Time seemed to halt. Everything stopped—the countless brilliant swordlights froze in place. A mysterious force intervened.
Suddenly, Fengyun Wuji regained conscious awareness. He was no longer functioning on instinct, blindly analyzing the luminous masses. Now he hovered above his own mind, observing everything from a detached, razor-sharp perspective—as though he had transcended the mental plane entirely.
The layers of swordlight peeled away like silk being unraveled. As they faded from his mind, what remained were countless swords—simple, iron swords—that filled half his consciousness.
They were utterly unremarkable—basic to the point of being crude. But in that moment, Fengyun Wuji was awestruck. That single strike from Ximen Yibei had been the convergence of hundreds of thousands of sword intents, each represented by a unique blade.
On the third floor of the Sword Pavilion, Fengyun Wuji's tightly shut left eye snapped open. The once-black pupil was now a gleaming silver, filled with cold clarity and wisdom.
In his mind, the hundreds of thousands of divergent blades suddenly aligned and merged into a single, unadorned longsword. It moved like a thunderclap—one strike, blinding in its brilliance. The force of the sword expelled Fengyun Wuji from his own sea of consciousness.
He opened his eyes to find his robes reduced to ragged strips. The wooden floor beneath him had exploded into a web of shredded fibers, as though a storm had passed through.
Sword Pavilion disciples were long accustomed to such anomalies. When Fengyun Wuji looked toward the corridor, he saw a neatly folded robe waiting for him.
He sighed with quiet gratitude, knowing it was Chi Shang who had placed it there.
"To have a disciple like Chi Shang—my heart is content."Fengyun Wuji extended his right hand, drawing the robe to him, feeling a touch of emotion stir within.
Donning the fresh robe, he leapt from the window and vanished into the distance.
The image of Ximen Yibei's sword intent lingered in his mind. Closing his eyes, Fengyun Wuji raised his hand and released the Fifth Sword—Sword Guts. A faint arc of light flickered and vanished, followed only by the whisper of a passing breeze.
He sighed again. Understanding a sword technique was one thing; wielding it was another. To tear through the fabric of space itself would take far more practice. That seemingly simple strike of Ximen Yibei's concealed a complexity beyond reckoning.
Screeech!
A massive crimson firebird swooped down from the heavens, its shadow enveloping Fengyun Wuji. Without even glancing up, he extended his left palm skyward and uttered calmly:"Star-Absorbing Art."
Instantly, an irresistible force pulled the firebird downward like a severed kite. Just as the creature's talon touched Fengyun Wuji's palm, it let out a terrified cry. Then its massive body began to collapse inward at a speed visible to the naked eye—its shimmering feathers dulled, its brilliance fading to an unsightly gray.
In a blink, the mighty beast had become a withered skeleton no larger than a clenched fist, cradled in Fengyun Wuji's right hand.
The Star-Absorbing Art, through Fengyun Wuji's tireless refinement, had grown even more formidable. No longer just a demonic technique that drained demonic qi—it could now absorb vital essence itself.
Thanks to his unparalleled comprehension, the technique had reached a level that defied the natural order. But then, the world already housed countless forces that defied heaven. One more didn't trouble him.
Having absorbed the beast's core energy and life force, Fengyun Wuji felt satisfied. He raised his hand and unleashed another sword strike.