Li Chen was escorted to a place no ordinary disciple had ever stepped foot in.
The Sword Origin Pavilion.
It floated above the sect like a solitary star, suspended by formations so profound that even the air around it seemed sharpened. Each step Li Chen took felt as if invisible blades brushed against his skin, testing, judging.
This place screams danger, he thought. Why does every important location try to kill people?
Inside the pavilion, the Seven Patriarchs stood in a circle. At the center hovered a jade slip, ancient and scarred, radiating an aura so sharp that Li Chen's soul instinctively recoiled.
The Heavenly Sword Patriarch gestured.
"This is the sect's supreme inheritance," he said. "The Heaven- Severing Sword Canon."
Li Chen's heart skipped.
Heaven-severing.
That alone sounded fatal.
"This technique was created by the founding patriarch," another elder said. "Its principle is simple: advance without hesitation, strike without fear, and sever all obstacles—even heaven itself."
Li Chen stared at the jade slip.
Every word felt like a personal threat.
"To survive in the future," the Heavenly Sword Patriarch continued, "you must master it."
Li Chen almost laughed.
To survive, I must cultivate a technique that demands I stop caring about survival.
"Patriarch," Li Chen said carefully, "is… retreat allowed?"
The air froze.
One patriarch frowned. "Retreat dulls sword intent."
Li Chen nodded quickly. "Exactly my concern."
They gave him no time to argue.
The jade slip flew toward him, pressing against his forehead. Knowledge flooded his mind—merciless, absolute, domineering. Every line of the canon screamed the same principle.
Advance or die.
Li Chen's hands trembled.
That night, he sat alone within the pavilion, surrounded by endless sword qi. He tried cultivating exactly as instructed.
Pain exploded through his meridians.
Blood spilled from the corner of his mouth.
Li Chen immediately stopped.
"Nope," he said hoarsely. "This is how people die."
He reread the canon, slower this time.
Why must the sword always advance?
Why must it confront?
Li Chen's gaze shifted.
A sword did not need to charge forward to kill.
It could wait.
It could retreat.
It could hide—then strike only when survival was guaranteed.
Heart pounding, Li Chen made a decision that would have terrified every sword cultivator in history.
He altered the technique.
He changed "advance without hesitation" to "withdraw to preserve intent."
He replaced "fearless strike" with "certain strike."
He redirected violent sword qi into coiled, dormant streams within his body.
The moment the change completed—
The heavens trembled.
Dark clouds gathered above the sect, swirling violently. Thunder roared—not chaotic, but sharp, rhythmic, like swords clashing in the sky.
"What's happening?!" a patriarch shouted.
Sword qi erupted from the Sword Origin Pavilion, piercing the clouds. Countless phantom swords manifested, forming a massive ring around the heavens.
A Heavenly Phenomenon.
Li Chen panicked.
"I knew it! I broke something!"
Inside his body, the altered canon fused seamlessly with his Supreme Sword Physique. The sword qi no longer harmed him—it obeyed him, sleeping quietly until called.
The canon changed.
The Heaven-Severing Sword Canon shattered.
In its place, new golden characters formed in Li Chen's mind.
The Divine Art of Silent Severance.
A sword technique that did not roar.
A sword that retreated, endured, and waited.
A sword that struck only when survival was absolute.
Across the cultivation world, countless powerful beings opened their eyes.
"A divine technique has been born."
"Such calm sword intent… terrifying."
"Which sect dares create this?"
One by one, grand ships, ancient beasts, and spatial rifts appeared above the Heavenly Sword Sect.
Big shots from rival sects, hidden clans, and ancient lineages arrived, all gazing toward the Sword Origin Pavilion.
Within it, Li Chen sat pale-faced and trembling.
"…Can I pretend this wasn't me?"
Outside, the Seven Patriarchs stared at the sky in stunned silence.
The Heavenly Sword Patriarch laughed slowly, deeply.
"A sword that survives heaven," he said. "Not one that challenges it."
He turned toward the pavilion.
"Our future patriarch," he murmured, "has forged a legend."
Li Chen sneezed.
"I really, really don't like legends."