The grand courtyard still hummed with lingering excitement even after the final echoes of the ranking match had faded.
Lin Feng's victory had already spread through the sect like wildfire, carried by awed whispers and excited shouts.
"Did you see that final strike?"
"He shattered Bai Chen's Frost Domain with a single stance!"
"Lin Feng… he's not just a disciple anymore. He's a monster in human skin!"
Every corridor, pavilion, and courtyard in the Sword Sovereign Sect spoke his name. Even the elders, usually aloof and expressionless, nodded slightly whenever his feats were mentioned.
The name Lin Feng had become the new storm that swept across the Eastern Continent.
---
The moon hung high above the sect that night, silver light cascading over quiet stone paths.
Lin Feng sat cross-legged in his courtyard, his eyes half-closed, his breathing steady. The wounds from the match were almost healed, but his mind was far from resting.
The sound of light footsteps interrupted the night's stillness. He opened his eyes.
"Li Yuexin."
The Sect Master's daughter stood at the gate, moonlight gleaming on her white robes. Her presence carried neither arrogance nor shyness—only a composed curiosity that made her seem both close and distant at once.
"You fought beautifully today," she said softly, walking toward him. "Father said it's been over a century since anyone displayed such mastery of multiple intents within our sect."
Lin Feng smiled faintly. "It was a good battle. Bai Chen's sword was pure… unyielding."
Her eyes glimmered. "And yet you broke it. You're not from a great clan, nor were you born with divine heritage, yet you stand above them all. Tell me—what drives you?"
He looked up at the moon, expression calm. "A promise. And the need to grow strong enough that no one can ever control my fate again."
Li Yuexin studied him for a moment, her usual composure softening. "You'll need that determination. The Gathering of the Lower Realm Geniuses is approaching. Representatives from every continent will attend—our sect is one of the pillars of the Eastern Continent. Father wants you to lead our delegation."
Lin Feng nodded slowly. "So soon…"
"Two months," she said. "Enough time to prepare. But also enough time to draw every eye to you."
Her words carried a subtle warning, though her tone was gentle.
Lin Feng smirked. "I'll welcome them all. Allies or enemies—it makes no difference."
Li Yuexin's gaze lingered on him, admiration and something unspoken flickering in her eyes. Then she bowed slightly. "Rest well, Lin Feng. The sect will be watching you from now on."
---
From a distance, behind the curved stone bridge leading to Lin Feng's courtyard, a slender figure stood quietly.
Sun Mei.
Her hands were clasped tightly before her chest, the faint moonlight tracing her delicate features. She had come intending to congratulate Lin Feng—but seeing Li Yuexin there, her courage faltered.
She listened to their voices drifting on the night breeze. When she heard Yuexin's soft laughter, something tightened in her chest.
"She's… beautiful," Sun Mei whispered to herself.
"And perfect. The Sect Master's daughter, graceful and wise. Someone like her… would naturally belong beside someone like him."
She bit her lip, shaking her head as if to chase the thought away. "No… Lin Feng is my senior brother. My benefactor. That's all."
But even she didn't believe her own words. The faint sting in her heart refused to fade.
She turned away quietly before either of them could notice her, the wind carrying a sigh that neither heard.
--
The next morning, as dawn painted the sky in hues of gold and crimson, a messenger arrived at Lin Feng's residence.
"The Sect Master summons you to the Sword Sovereign Mountain Peak."
Lin Feng's brows lifted slightly. That place was sacred ground—the heart of the sect, where the Sword Sovereign himself had meditated before ascending to the Higher Realm. It was said that the lingering sword intents of the founding fathers still drifted there, eternal and untamed.
By the time he reached the foot of the mountain, even the air felt heavier, humming with faint resonance. Sword Qi wove through the mist like invisible threads, singing softly to those who could hear.
The Sect Master awaited him halfway up the path, hands clasped behind his back.
"You've earned the right to cultivate here," the old master said. "Few have stood upon this peak without losing their minds to the pressure of countless intents. If you can endure, you'll understand what it means to walk the true path of the sword."
Lin Feng bowed deeply. "This disciple will not waste the opportunity."
"Good," the master replied with a faint smile. "The peak awaits you. Go."
---
As Lin Feng ascended, the mists thickened, then parted—revealing a vast plateau surrounded by hovering swords buried halfway in the earth. Each sword emanated a distinct aura, cold and sharp, ancient and eternal.
The air buzzed with overlapping energy, as if thousands of sword spirits whispered in unison.
When Lin Feng stepped onto the plateau, the pressure struck like a tidal wave.
Boom!
His knees almost buckled. A crushing presence tried to pierce his body from every direction, testing his will. But his dragon blood boiled in response, his battle intent roaring defiantly.
"Sword Intent of the Sovereigns," he murmured. "So this is the legacy of our forebears."
He sat cross-legged at the center, drawing his sword and placing it before him. Closing his eyes, he let his consciousness drift into the sea of sword qi.
One by one, the ancient intents revealed themselves—blades of fire, lightning, frost, light, shadow, and chaos—all swirling in a storm around him.
He felt their weight. Their wrath. Their purpose.
And then—he began to understand.
Time lost meaning. Hours turned into days.
Each of his own intents resonated, breaking and reforming as they absorbed the fragments left behind by the ancients. His Sword Intent deepened, expanding like an ocean. His Battle Intent became sharper, focused yet wild. His Slaughter Intent stabilized, no longer chaotic but absolute. And his Dragon Intent coiled within him, refined and divine.
The mountain trembled.
Swords embedded in the ground began to hum, their blades trembling as if bowing to a higher will.
---
At the foot of the peak, Bai Chen stood with several core disciples, their eyes fixed upward at the sudden tremor.
"Is that… Lin Feng?" Bai Chen whispered, eyes narrowing.
One of the disciples gasped. "The swords—they're singing! The entire peak is resonating with him!"
Bai Chen clenched his fist. "So soon after his victory… he's already improving again."
Farther away, Li Yuexin and Sun Mei both sensed the surge as well. The two women looked toward the peak from different pavilions—each feeling the same awe, yet for different reasons.
Li Yuexin murmured, "So this is his comprehension… No wonder Father favors him."
Sun Mei's lips curved in a faint, wistful smile. "Senior Brother Lin Feng… always beyond reach."
--
Back on the summit, Lin Feng's aura exploded.
A blinding azure light shot into the heavens, piercing the clouds. The storm of sword qi around him condensed, merging into his body.
Within his sea of consciousness, four majestic figures appeared — a dragon coiling through the sky, a warrior roaring in battle, a sword shining with divine brilliance, and a shadow wreathed in slaughter intent.
They merged into one.
Boom!
Lin Feng's eyes snapped open, radiating azure light.
He exhaled slowly, and the entire mountain seemed to sigh with him. The overwhelming pressure vanished, replaced by serene harmony.
His understanding of all four intents had broken through to the fifth level.
He stood, sword in hand, and performed a single cut through the air.
Whoosh!
The sky split open for several miles, then silently healed.
Far below, Bai Chen and the other disciples felt their hearts tremble.
"In just a few days…" Bai Chen said, awe lacing his tone, "he's advanced farther than most could in decades."
---
Lin Feng sheathed his sword, the wind carrying a faint hum that sounded almost like the whisper of the Sovereigns themselves.
"Thank you," he murmured to the ancient blades surrounding him. "Your will… I'll carry it forward."
As he descended the mountain, rays of dawn light fell across his figure, his silhouette like that of a god walking among mortals.
The name Lin Feng would no longer be merely whispered in admiration—
It would be spoken in reverence.