Torchlight stretched long shadows across the stone corridor as Fang Lin followed Elder Chu Baishan in silence.
This place was different.
The air itself felt heavier, layered with an ancient sharpness—as if countless blades had been drawn and sheathed here over endless years. Every step forward made Fang Lin's heart beat faster, not from fear, but from anticipation.
They soon stopped before a massive bronze gate.
The gate was tall, wider than three men standing shoulder to shoulder, its surface engraved with countless sword marks—some deep, some shallow—each one carrying a lingering will. At the center was a single character carved in an ancient script:
Sword.
At the entrance stood two guards. Like Elder Baishan, they were dressed in black robes, simple yet solemn. Each of them held a long blade in hand, the metal faintly reflecting the torchlight. Their cultivation was steady—Rank 2, enough to guard this sacred place.
The moment they saw Elder Baishan approaching, both guards straightened and bowed respectfully.
While maintaining their posture, one of the guards glanced toward Fang Lin and whispered in a low voice, barely hiding his curiosity.
"So… is this the boy who awakened A-grade aptitude this time?"
The other guard's eyes flickered with disbelief as he followed Fang Lin with his gaze.
"I never thought it would be possible," he murmured, "that someone outside the Tian family could awaken A-grade aptitude."
Fang Lin heard every word.
He did not react outwardly, but inside, his heart stirred slightly. The weight of those words pressed on him—not as pressure, but as a quiet reminder of how unusual his presence here truly was.
Elder Baishan said nothing.
He merely walked forward, his steps calm and unhurried, as if the Sword Repository itself was just another destination. Yet the guards knew better—only those truly qualified were ever brought beyond this gate.
Elder Baishan stopped before the entrance of the Sword Repository.
The massive stone gate before them was ancient, its surface covered with deep sword marks left behind by countless blades over the years. Each mark carried a faint pressure, as if the will of past sword masters still lingered within the stone.
Elder Baishan raised his right hand.
With a single motion, he pressed his palm against a circular carving at the center of the gate. The carving lit up faintly, lines spreading outward like a blooming formation.
Hummm—
A deep, heavy sound echoed as the formation activated.
The guards immediately stepped back, lowering their heads.
The stone gate began to tremble.
Dust fell from the edges as the two massive doors slowly separated, the gap widening inch by inch. From within, a cold sword aura poured out, sharp enough to make Fang Lin's skin prickle.
The air itself seemed to hum—
as if countless swords were whispering at once.
Fang Lin unconsciously clenched his fists.
This was the first time he had felt such a pure, oppressive sword intent. It was not violent, yet it carried an unquestionable authority, silently testing anyone who stood before it.
Elder Baishan spoke calmly, his voice steady.
"Steady your heart. The Sword Repository does not welcome hesitation."
The gates finally opened wide.
Beyond them lay darkness…
and the promise of blades that had waited centuries to be chosen.
Elder Baishan stepped forward first.
After a brief pause, Fang Lin followed.
The moment Fang Lin stepped inside the Sword Repository, his breath caught.
The interior was vast and silent.
On the first floor, countless swords rested within wooden, cabinet-like structures, arranged in long rows—much like an ancient library. Each sword remained sheathed in its scabbard, placed carefully in individual slots, one after another, stretching far into the distance.
The wood used for the structures was old and dark, polished smooth by time. Faint spiritual runes were carved along the edges, preserving both the blades and their aura.
No sword was exposed.
Yet even within their scabbards, a subtle sword intent filled the air—calm, restrained, but ever-present. Some swords felt dull and heavy, while others carried faint ripples of sharpness, as if aware of the people who had entered.
Torchlight flickered along the aisles, casting long shadows between the rows, making the swords seem endless.
This was only the first floor.
Elder Baishan spoke calmly, his voice low but firm.
"These are not ordinary swords, Fang Lin…
These are special blades preserved by the clan."
He slowly swept his gaze across the wooden racks before continuing.
"These swords are given only to those who have done something valuable for the clan, or to those who are important to the clan's future."
His eyes finally settled on Fang Lin.
"Just like you."
The words lingered in the silent hall, heavier than the sword aura itself.
Fang Lin's heart trembled slightly—not from fear, but from realization.
Elder Baishan spoke again, his tone serious.
"These swords each possess their own quality and will.
Choose the one that appeals to you."
He paused, then added a warning,
"And remember—inform me before touching any sword."
Fang Lin nodded in response.
"Yes."
After that, Fang Lin slowly walked forward, his eyes moving from one rack to another.
This feeling was new to him.
He had seen many people in this world wield swords before, but this was the first time he was being allowed to choose one himself.
Each step made his heartbeat grow steadier.
Each sword felt different—some quiet, some sharp, some strangely distant.
Just then—
Fang Lin's will awakened.
A familiar voice echoed near his head.
"Ah, otherworldly one… where have you ended up this time?"
The voice sounded annoyed, half-awake.
"The pressure here woke me up from my sleep."
The will floated around Fang Lin's head, circling slowly as if trying to understand its surroundings. It carefully examined the Sword Repository, sensing the lingering sword intent in the air.
Its form was incomplete—
only the upper part of its body existed. Below the waist, there was nothing… only a lizard-like tail, swaying lightly in the air.
After a brief moment of silence, it muttered softly,
"This place… is not simple."
Fang Lin spoke calmly, without any tension.
"Oh? So you're awake, split soul."
He did not turn his attention away from the swords. While his eyes continued to move across the racks, his voice echoed mind to mind.
"This place is called the Sword Repository.
And why am I here…"
He paused for a moment.
A faint smile appeared on his face as he continued,
"Because I now possess A-grade aptitude.
The clan has given me the opportunity to choose one sword and one manual."
The words carried quiet confidence.
Hearing all this, Fang Lin's will was stunned.
In the next instant, it rushed forward and appeared right in front of Fang Lin's eyes.
Fang Lin was startled so badly that he stepped back instinctively. His heart skipped a beat as he blurted out in fear,
"Who are you?! Are you some kind of ghost or spirit?!"
Because of this sudden movement, Elder Baishan—who was standing on the other side of the repository—felt something unusual. He turned slightly and asked,
"What's wrong, Fang Lin? Are you alright?"
Before Fang Lin could answer, the will quickly floated closer and spoke in a low voice, meant only for him.
"Hey… it's me. Fang Lin—the one who died.
My will. Have you already forgotten me?"
It took Fang Lin a moment.
Then realization struck.
"Ohhh… you're the split soul."
He let out a small sigh of relief and muttered,
"For a moment I thought some demon or ghost had come to kill me."
His eyes then widened with curiosity as he stared at it more carefully.
"But… you usually stay inside my body. How did you come out?
And this body of yours—why does it look like a blue slime?"
He leaned closer, genuinely intrigued.
"You're so small… your tail's barely half a hand long.
Can I grab you and take a closer look?"
Fang Lin instinctively reached out with both hands.
The will immediately spoke sharply,
"Stop. This is not the time to play with me."
Its tone grew serious.
"You need to answer Elder Baishan first.
If he comes here to investigate, our secret might be exposed."
Fang Lin froze.
Then he quickly straightened himself and spoke out loud,
"No—nothing happened. I was just… curious after seeing so many swords.
It caught me off guard for a moment."
Elder Baishan looked at him for a brief second, then nodded.
"Very well."
The pressure in the air eased.
Only then did Fang Lin slowly let out the breath he had been holding—
After that, Fang Lin's will immediately asked, its voice filled with disbelief,
"Are you really inside the Sword Repository?
This is the place everyone dreams of entering."
It circled him once, excitement clear in its tone.
"I've heard that only a few chosen people are ever allowed inside.
The swords stored here are said to be even better than those of the sect."
Fang Lin simply smiled.
Then he replied calmly,
"Now it's my turn to ask a question…"
His gaze sharpened slightly.
"How did you end up here—
and in this condition?"
The will fell silent for a moment.
The will spoke again, its rounded body swaying slightly as it floated.
"I am a soul, after all. That's why I can do this.
It just took me some time to figure it out."
It paused, then continued calmly,
"Now, I can stay inside your body… or outside as well."
Its tone grew a little serious.
"But remember this—when I am outside, high-ranked individuals might be able to see me."
It flicked its tail lightly.
"So for now, only you should be able to see me.
To everyone else… I don't exist."
The words settled quietly between them.
After that, the will's tone turned serious.
"All of this happened so fast that I never even had the time to decide what we should call each other," it said quietly.
"You keep calling me split soul, and I keep calling you otherworldly."
Fang Lin actually found this amusing. He nodded slightly in agreement.
The will continued,
"So tell me—what should I call you?"
Fang Lin replied without hesitation,
"What's there to think about? You'll call me Fang Lin.
Everyone in this world knows me by that name."
The will immediately objected,
"No. Fang Lin is me. That was my name."
Fang Lin added calmly but firmly,
"That was your name.
Not anymore."
He paused, then smiled faintly.
"Well then…
what should I call you?"
The small blue will fell silent, floating in place.
Fang Lin looked at the small floating soul for a moment, then spoke calmly.
"Names matter in this world."
The will tilted its head slightly, listening.
"You are no longer the Fang Lin who lived and died," Fang Lin continued.
"But you are also not just a split soul."
He paused, then said,
"From now on… I'll call you Lingyi."
For a brief second, the blue, rounded soul froze.
"…Lingyi?" it repeated softly.
Something unfamiliar stirred within it—
not confusion, not resistance—
but acceptance.
Lingyi's tail swayed gently as it muttered,
"Hah… a new name after death.
Seems fitting."
It floated a little higher and looked at Fang Lin.
"Very well.
From now on, I am Lingyi."
The name settled between them like an unspoken contract.