The platform was silent.
No wind. No birds. No echoes.
Jiang Yunfan stood alone at the edge of a shattered sky bridge, staring ahead where an ancient path spiraled into mist. Jagged sword marks ran through the stone under his feet like veins, cuts so deep they'd never fade.
The other disciples had vanished behind him, drawn to glowing tombs, screaming beasts, and treasure-laced palaces.
But not this place.
This path had no lights. No signs.Only pressure.Only silence.
And still… Yunfan walked forward.
His feet touched the first step, and the world shifted.
Stone gave way to clouds.Sky became dark water.And suddenly Yunfan stood on a single blade suspended in the void—wide as a road, sharp as regret.
Ahead floated three trials:
A shattered zither with frayed strings
A sword hilt embedded in thunderstone
And a bell that did not ring
A voice neither male nor female whispered in his mind:
"To wield the blade that was sealed by heaven… you must first strike the note that has never been heard."
Yunfan stepped toward the zither.
It pulsed faintly connected to him somehow.
He sat. Crossed his legs.Rested his fingers on the broken strings.
He didn't play.
He listened.
The rhythm of his heartbeat.The breath of the void.The hum of the blade beneath him.
Then, he plucked a single note
TING.
The sound wasn't beautiful.
It was raw. Wild.
It tore across the platform like a whipcrack of thunder.
The bell across the void vibrated once—but did not ring.
Blood dripped from Yunfan's fingertips.
He ignored it.
He played again. Then again.
Faster. Slower. Louder. Softer.
Each note called a different emotion. Anger. Grief. Joy. Madness.
But none struck the bell.
Then he remembered the words:
"Strike the note that has never been heard."
Yunfan closed his eyes.
And played nothing.
He stilled his hands.
Let the lightning inside him rise.
And let Sword Intent carry the music his fingers no longer played.
The bell across the void rang.
The blade he sat upon shook.
The hilt embedded in thunderstone glowed.
Yunfan stood and walked to it.
Placed his palm on the hilt.
The stone screamed as lightning cracked in every direction.
"This sword is not yours," the voice whispered. "Not until it cuts you."
The blade burst from the stone and sliced across his chest, fast as thought.
Yunfan didn't flinch.
He bled.He grinned.And finally… he spoke.
"Then let's call it even."
As the trial faded, Yunfan stepped back into the ruin proper.
The new sword rested on his back now, light as wind, heavy as memory.
Others were still scrambling for outer treasures.But Yunfan had already touched the core.
He said nothing.
But the sword at his side whispered to him.