Chapter 1: Heaven's Pesky Nagging
The Cangyun Sect nestled in a misty valley of the Mortal Realm, its stone halls and open training yards bathed in the soft glow of dawn. Ancient pines swayed gently, their needles whispering in the breeze. Disciples moved through sword forms in neat rows, their blades flashing in calm, practiced arcs, while others sat cross-legged on stone platforms, faces serene as they drew thin streams of Qi from the morning air. The sect was a quiet haven of ordinary cultivation peaceful, unremarkable, and perfectly boring. Exactly Noah's kind of place.
High above the valley, Elder Noah rested in his old bamboo pavilion, overlooking the valley. He sipped jade-leaf tea from a chipped cup, silver hair glinting in the sunrise. His patched robes hung loose, hiding a power that could split heavens, but his scowl said he'd rather nap. The pavilion was his refuge quiet and worn, with a wobbly table, a dented teapot whispering steam, a few mismatched cups stacked nearby, and a jade pendant swaying gently on its cord, catching the light in a soft, ghostly glow. A bamboo mat creaked under him, and the valley's faint hum of sword clashes and murmured chants felt worlds away.
"Amateurs," Noah muttered, squinting at a disciple whose sword wobbled like a drunk. "Swinging sticks, not blades." He took another sip, savoring the tea's bitter warmth. The sect was calm, his brew was flawless, and his past was buried deep. Life was good.
Until it wasn't.
DING!
A shrill chime stabbed his skull, like a temple bell smashed by a clumsy novice. Golden words blazed in his mind, framed by swirling mist that pulsed like a heartbeat:
[Heavenly Destiny Disciple System Activated]
Noah's teacup froze mid-air. "What's this junk?"
[System Interface Online]
[Host: Noah | Status: Dormant Immortal King | Objective: Guide Heaven's Chosen to fulfill Destiny]
[First Disciple Selection Initiated...]
Noah groaned, loud enough to rattle the cups on his table. "Heaven's got no manners, crashing my tea break like a rude vendor." He swatted at the words, as if they were a pesky moth. "Mute it. Skip it. Or better yet, vanish."
[Error: Mute Function Unavailable. Host, Review Disciple Profile.]
Noah glared at the empty air, his voice dripping with scorn. "Vanish? I'm trying to enjoy my tea, you glowing busybody."
The System didn't flinch. A golden panel flared, shimmering like molten gold:
[Disciple Profile]
Name: Lin Jian
Age: 15
Talent: Sword Dao
Affinity: 99% (Heavenly Grade)
Current Realm: Body Tempering (Bone Stage)
Issue: Sealed soul restricts high-level sword techniques, risking collapse.
Fate Thread: Reincarnated sword saint, tied to ancient divine war.
An image appeared into Noah's mind, sharp and vivid. A scrawny boy, barely fifteen, stood in a barren gorge choked with dust. Ten bandits circled him, their jagged blades glinting under a harsh sun. The kid's chipped sword danced, slashing red arcs that snapped like wolf fangs his Crimson Fang Sword Intent. Each swing sent a tremor through him, his free hand clutching his chest as if his heart might burst. Sweat plastered his dark hair to his forehead, and blood trickled from a gash on his arm, but his eyes blazed with a stubborn fire that refused to break.
[Insight Ability: Crimson Fang Sword Intent Detected. Sealed Soul Blocks 80% of Potential.]
Noah's brows shot up. A 99% affinity? That was madness, even in his glory days. But those red slashes stirred something deep. His fingers brushed the jade pendant, its glow flaring sharp and cold, like a warning.
"Another sword saint?" he muttered, voice low and heavy. "The last one left scars I don't need reopened."
Before he could brood, the System chimed again, a new panel glowing with insistence:
[Task: First Trial Guidance]
[Objective: Guide Lin Jian to unseal his soul and survive the Cangyun Sect trial.
Deadline: Seven days (Sect trial commencement).
Success: Lin Jian achieves Qi Gathering Realm, masters Crimson Fang Intent (1st Layer).
Failure: Soul collapse, loss of Heavenly Chosen.
Reward:
- Sword Dao Fragment (Heavenly Tier): Enhances host's sword comprehension.
- Heavenly Insight Token (Sword Dao): Unlocks insights to guide disciple's sword path.]
Noah slammed his teacup down, the table wobbling dangerously. "Rewards? I don't want your shiny junk. And I'm not playing wet nurse to some kid with a fancy sword."
[Refusal Invalid. Task Accepted Automatically. Host, Act Swiftly.]
Noah snorted and leaned back, eyes narrowing. "Swiftly? I'll move when my tea's cold and not a moment sooner, you damn nagging pest."
But Lin Jian's image lingered slashing through pain, eyes fierce as a trapped beast, his sword trembling but unyielding. Noah's smirk faded. He glanced at the jade pendant, its glow pulsing like a heartbeat. A memory flickered a battlefield strewn with broken blades, a friend's laughter cut short. He shoved it down, hard.
"Fine," he growled, rising steady. "Let's see if this brat's blade can hum like the old days or if it's all bark and no bite."
He was about to flick his sleeve when a nervous voice piped up from the pavilion's steps. "Elder Noah? Uh, your tea order's here."
Noah turned, eyebrow raised. A young disciple, barely sixteen, stood clutching a small sack of tea leaves. His robe was too big, and his face screamed anxiety. Xiao Fan, the sect's resident errand boy, always looked like he expected a scolding.
Noah sighed. "Set it there, kid. And stop trembling. I don't bite."
Xiao Fan scurried forward, placing the sack on the table with a clumsy bow. "S-sorry, Elder! I heard you muttering. Is… is something wrong?"
Noah waved him off, already turning back to the valley. "Just Heaven being a pest. Scram, before I make you scrub my cups."
Xiao Fan's eyes widened, and he bolted down the steps, nearly tripping. Noah shook his head. The Cangyun Sect was so peaceful, even its disciples were jumpy over nothing. Perfect for hiding, but dull as dirt.
He flicked his sleeve, and the world blurred. In a heartbeat, he stood in the gorge, dust stinging his eyes. The bandits' laughter echoed, their blades raised to strike. Lin Jian knelt in the dirt, gasping, his sword stuck in the ground, red sparks fading. Blood dripped from his arm, pooling in the dust, and his chest heaved with ragged breaths.
Noah raised an eyebrow, voice dry. "Kid, that blade's a disgrace. Clean it."
He tossed a rag at Lin Jian's feet. The boy's head snapped up, eyes wide with shock and suspicion. The bandits lunged, their blades slashing down, then froze. Noah snapped his fingers, and a windstorm roared through the gorge, sharp as a blade. The bandits screamed, their bodies crumbling to ash, swords clattering uselessly to the ground. Dust swirled, settling like a grim curtain.
Lin Jian staggered to his feet, sword trembling in his grip. His voice rasped, bold despite the pain. "Who… who are you?"
Noah turned, strolling off with a lazy wave. "Just an elder who wants his tea quiet. Follow, or stay and bleed. Your call."
Lin Jian's eyes narrowed, but he gripped his sword tighter, limping after Noah. The System's voice rang in Noah's head: [Host, Progress Noted. Task Deadline: Seven Days. Do Not Slack.]
Noah muttered, "Slack? You nag worse than a sect granny."
His hand brushed the jade pendant, its glow fading but heavy. For a split second, his eyes darkened, fixed on the horizon.
Somewhere, a blade was begging to sing.