Wind Shear Valley.
True to its name, the wind here never stopped. It rushed through narrow gullies, whistled along cliff edges, and stirred the robes and hair of the hundreds of gathered disciples like a restless spirit. The sky above was a crisp blue, with long strands of cloud stretching over the distant peaks.
Today was the Outer Sect Sword Trial.
More than two hundred outer sect disciples had gathered at the base of the valley, forming loose lines beneath sect banners planted into the earth. The platform above was carved from spirit-forged stone, hovering with the aid of formation arrays—wide, flat, and surrounded by layers of glowing warding talismans to prevent injuries from spreading outside.
Seated in an elevated observation stand were several elders of the Outer Sect Council. Among them was Elder Nie, a cold-looking man in green-black robes. He stood, arms folded, watching the gathered disciples below with a steady gaze.
Li Qingyun stood near the back of the crowd.
His expression was quiet. Steady.
He carried no aura of pride nor nervousness, only the cool stillness of someone who had already envisioned this day a hundred times over. His sword, Shadowfang, was sheathed at his back.
The murmur of voices filled the air.
"…I heard they're using ranked rounds. Lose once, and you're out."
"…You see Lu Yifan? I bet he's already got a seat in the top ten."
Li Qingyun ignored the whispers. His focus remained inward.
Three months of effort had led to this.
And nothing would shake that foundation.
He willed the system.
[System Interface]
[Host:] Li Qingyun
[Realm:] Foundation Establishment Realm — 2nd Stage
[Secondary Profession:] Alchemist — Rank 1
[Physique:] Primal Chaos Vessel Physique
[Slots:]
Slot 1: Phantom Step Art — Transcendent
Slot 2: Ninefold Essence Sutra — Perfect ( Advance to Transcendent Stage – Requires 500 points)
Slot 3: Cloudveil Sword Control Method — Major Completion
Slot 4: Tranquil Void Heart Scripture — Perfect (Advance to Transcendent Stage – Requires 300 points)
[Techniques:]
[Bound Weapon:] Shadowfang — Spirit Grade
[Weapon Traits:] Adaptive resonance, enhances Sword Intent, evolves with usage.
[Energy:] 223 points.
[Alchemist]
Known Recipes:
• Qi Nourishing Pill (Basic — Low Grade)
Refinement Proficiency:
• Qi Nourishing Pill — 15%.
His Cloudveil Flight Method had advanced to perfect stage and then it merged itself with Cloudveil Sword Control Method pushing it one stage up, to Major Completion Stage.
Also his proficiency has increased to 15% in refining Qi Nourishing Pill due to his daily diligent practice of pill refining.
He closed to system interface.
Near the front of the crowd, Lu Yifan stood with his arms behind his back. His golden robe was flawless. His face wore the calm of someone already certain of his victory. Around him, other disciples instinctively stepped aside—whether in awe, envy, or fear, none dared stand too close.
But even he was not placed on any pedestal.
He stood among the rest, a participant like all others.
Only his eyes betrayed something deeper.
When they swept the crowd and landed on Li Qingyun, they narrowed slightly.
"…You really did show up after all," he murmured.
A faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips—not pleasant, but sharpened like a blade's edge. "Good. It will make your fall that much more satisfying."
Up above, Elder Nie raised a hand. The wind seemed to still for a heartbeat.
His voice, imbued with spiritual force, rolled through the valley like thunder:
"All disciples present for the Outer Sect Sword Trial, step forward!"
The crowd surged slightly as each name was called.
The format had been announced three months ago: one-on-one elimination, single defeat disqualifies. Victory depended not only on sword skill, but on one's foundational strength, movement, and comprehension of sword intent.
The trial wasn't just a contest.
It was a gateway.
For many disciples, it was the only chance to gain recognition before their mandatory ten-year outer sect term lapsed. For others… like Li Qingyun and Lu Yifan… it was a battlefield where rival paths would collide.
As the roster continued to be read, Xia Shuying arrived at the edge of the crowd. Dressed in sleek gray robes, sword across her back, she glanced over the sea of disciples until her gaze paused briefly on Li Qingyun.
Their eyes met for only a moment. She gave a small nod. Nothing more.
And yet it held weight.
Li Qingyun inclined his head in return.
Elder Nie raised both hands again.
"The rules are simple," he declared. "Victory is determined by incapacitation, disarmament, or surrender. Lethal strikes are forbidden. If we suspect intent to kill, you will be removed from the sect immediately."
His gaze swept the disciples, hard and unblinking.
"There will be no second chances."
Dozens of formation disciples moved to the edges of the dueling platform, activating barrier runes and drawing protective layers in the air.
"Round one begins shortly. Be prepared."
As the crowd dispersed into designated waiting zones, Li Qingyun stood quietly beside a plum blossom tree growing out from a rock ledge near the waiting disciples.
Wind stirred his robes.
Shadowfang hummed faintly on his back, reacting to the silent pulse of his breath.
The sword trial had begun.
But for him, it was simply… the next step.
The trial began in earnest.
Disciples were called one after another, their names echoing across Wind Shear Valley as pairs moved onto the raised dueling platform. With every clash of swords, the tension mounted.
The first few matches passed quickly. Most disciples were solid but unremarkable—flashes of sword light, hurried movement techniques, and uneven footing. A few fights dragged out longer, their participants circling warily, neither daring to fully commit.
From the viewing stands, Elder Nie and the other council members watched in silence, noting down comments occasionally on their jade slips.
It was not until the seventh match that things became more spirited.
"Zhao Chen versus Mo Lian!"
Two figures leapt onto the platform. Mo Lian's sword style was fierce and aggressive, each strike like a hammer. But Zhao Chen, lean and sharp-eyed, moved like a reed in the wind. His sword was fast, bending and striking at impossible angles. Though his realm was only Foundation Establishment 1st Stage, his precision and footwork earned a murmur of approval from even the distant spectators.
He won after dodging Mo Lian's final overhand slash and landing a clean strike to the wrist, sending the opponent's sword skittering across the platform.
By the time the tenth match ended, murmurs were spreading in the crowd.
"Have you seen that girl with the ash-gray robes? She's not using a blade—she's using a hairpin!"
"That's Xia Shuying! Sword control technique. You don't need a sword to be dangerous if your intent is sharp enough."
Indeed, Xia Shuying had already made her mark. Her first opponent never even landed a blow. Her 'hairpin' flew through the air like a serpent, intercepting every strike and brushing past their defenses with effortless grace.
Then, Elder Nie's voice echoed across the valley again.
"Match sixteen—Li Qingyun versus Wu Tiansheng."
A stir rippled through the spectators. Some turned to look at the dark-haired youth now stepping forward from beneath the plum tree. Wu Tiansheng, by contrast, was already standing near the dueling platform, his long sword resting on his shoulder.
"Heh," Wu Tiansheng smirked as Li Qingyun approached. "You don't look like much. You sure you're not better off watching from the sides?"
Li Qingyun said nothing.
He simply stepped onto the platform, eyes calm.
The barrier activated with a soft shimmer of light. Elder Nie gave a simple nod.
"Begin."
Wu Tiansheng charged in immediately. His sword roared downward, carrying the weight of brute force and confidence. His strikes were fast and wild, trying to overwhelm from the outset.
But Li Qingyun didn't move hastily.
Instead, he shifted one step to the side. His footwork, refined through three months of repetition, was silent and clean.
The sword grazed past him with a hiss.
Shadowfang slid halfway from its sheath in a single motion—just enough to parry the next blow with a sharp ring of steel.
Wu Tiansheng frowned and twisted, changing angles mid-strike, but again Li Qingyun moved—this time executing a soft, circular sidestep from the Phantom Step Art. His figure flickered like mist.
The crowd leaned forward.
"Too slow," Li Qingyun said softly.
He stepped inward.
Voidcleave Sword Manual ignited in his stance—sword still sheathed—but his spiritual energy pulsed through the edge of his body. The pressure was like a rising tide, invisible but vast.
Shadowfang left its sheath like lightning.
One cut—clean, direct, and horizontal—met Wu Tiansheng's strike head-on. The force behind it wasn't brute strength but refined, compressed momentum.
Wu Tiansheng's sword trembled. He staggered back two steps, eyes widening.
Li Qingyun didn't pursue. His sword returned to its sheath in the same breath.
His sword flicked sideways—not with speed, but with flow.
Each movement thereafter became a blur of wind and controlled pressure. His blade danced with perfect spacing, intercepting without colliding, brushing past defenses and slipping through openings with clinical calm.
Wu Tiansheng tried twice more to overpower him, using a spinning strike followed by a sweeping arc, but both were read before they even finished forming.
Finally, Li Qingyun stepped forward and struck once—not to injure, but to disarm.
The tip of his sword kissed the base of Wu Tiansheng's sword hand.
A flick of spiritual intent. A twist of his wrist.
The sword flew from Wu Tiansheng grasp and landed behind him. While the tip of Shadowfang raised right in front of his neck.
A pause.
Then—
"I… I concede," Wu Tiansheng growled, rubbing his wrist. "Damn it."
The barrier dimmed.
Elder Nie raised a brow slightly. He did not speak, but his gaze lingered longer on Li Qingyun than it had for the other winners.
Whispers spread through the spectators like fire catching dry grass.
"Did you see that footwork?"
"His sword only moved a few inches, but that sword just flew!"
But Li Qingyun had already stepped off the platform, expression unchanged.
He returned to the waiting area and stood once more beneath the plum tree, where the wind now carried the faint scent of spring blossoms.
He closed his eyes.
There were many more rounds to come.
But this one… had gone exactly as he intended.