"Su Jian, you are the strongest swordsman in history! You've touched the apex—stood upon the peak every cultivator dreams of reaching—and yet you want to give it all up… for a woman?"
Long Wei's voice split the stillness of the mountaintop, his tone filled with disbelief and faint anger. The wind swept through the ancient cliffs, carrying the scent of distant storms and molten clouds. Around them, the sky rippled with traces of divine energy, remnants of countless battles Su Jian had fought to carve his legend among the heavens.
But the man before him did not move.
Su Jian stood with his back to the horizon, white robes fluttering like fallen snow. His sword was sheathed, yet its aura pressed faintly against the world—a presence that could silence the breath of gods.
He did not answer. His gaze drifted across the sea of clouds that stretched below, eyes unfocused, mind far away.
Long Wei clenched his fists. "You've defeated the Seven Celestial Guardians. You've shattered the Sky-Sealing Formation of the Immortals. Even the gods bow before your name, Su Jian. You've become the dream of every cultivator in the Nine Heavens… and now, at your height, you want to throw it all away?"
Su Jian closed his eyes briefly. His voice, when it came, was soft, almost sorrowful. "Long Wei… you cannot understand. You have your clan, your purpose, your ambitions. But I—" He paused. "I have nothing left that I desire."
The wind grew quiet.
He had stood upon the peak of the world too long. He had watched mountains crumble, empires rise and fall, and immortals perish beneath his blade. Every duel, every victory, every title had only hollowed him further.
Until he saw her.
A face in the midst of chaos, eyes that shimmered like moonlight upon a quiet lake. A moment—one heartbeat—and his world had changed.
He had pursued her ever since, chasing fragments of her essence through the nine realms. He had crossed battlefields of gods, wandered through forbidden dimensions, and even bargained with entities that existed before creation. But she was gone—always gone.
"I have searched for her across all the heavens," Su Jian murmured, almost to himself. "Every divine court, every abyss. Yet she eludes me. Only one place remains—the Hell Forbidden Grounds."
Long Wei stiffened. "That place devours even gods! Not even the Heavenly Emperors dared enter—"
"I know." Su Jian's voice was calm. "But if she's not in the Nine Heavens, perhaps she's beyond them. I would rather die seeking her than live forever without her."
He lifted his face to the sky. The clouds parted, revealing a stretch of pale light above the firmament. "Once, I thought the sword was everything. But the sword is cold. It cannot fill the silence that comes after the battles end."
His aura flared—bright, wild, alive—then vanished so suddenly that even the winds seemed startled.
Long Wei took a step back. He could not name what he felt, but something had changed. The Su Jian standing before him no longer radiated the same killing intent. His presence was tranquil, yet immeasurable—like the calm before a storm that could swallow worlds.
Su Jian turned to him, eyes clear as still water. "Brother, have you ever thought that the Nine Heavens may not be all there is? What if there are worlds beyond—realms untouched by our kind? Perhaps… she waits there."
He smiled faintly, a ghost of warmth on his weary face. "The Hell Forbidden Grounds are the last veil between this world and the unknown. I once had a ten percent chance of surviving. Now, I think I might return with thirty—"
His words froze.
A sound too sharp for hearing cut through the air.
Then came pain—cold, absolute, final.
A sword tip burst through his chest, crimson blooming across his white robes.
Su Jian's mind reeled. He hadn't sensed it. Impossible. His instincts had been honed beyond mortal comprehension.
Long Wei stood before him, unmoving. Then… who was behind him?
His vision began to blur. The world tilted, and the golden horizon melted into shadow. His thoughts scattered like falling leaves. I… still have to find her…
A soft voice, smooth as ice, whispered behind him. "You have done well."
A woman emerged from the gloom—robes of crimson and black flowing like smoke, eyes burning with cruel beauty. Her sword dripped with his blood, each drop hissing as it touched the ground.
Long Wei turned slowly.
His expression, once cold, broke into a smile—bright, cruel, and twisted with triumph.
"Did you have to be so merciless, my love?" he murmured, stepping toward her. "He was my brother."
Her expression did not waver. "Mercy? He has already served his purpose. Keeping him alive would only endanger us both."
Long Wei's smile faltered for a heartbeat. Then he chuckled. "I suppose you're right." He reached out, brushing his fingers against her cheek. "Still… you didn't have to stab him through the heart."
Her eyes flashed. "Would you prefer I missed?"
He laughed softly, the sound echoing over the cliffside where Su Jian's body lay still.
If one looked closely, they would see a single tear frozen upon Su Jian's cheek. Yet his lips curved faintly, as though even in death, he had found peace.
The strongest swordsman in history—slain without a chance to draw his blade.
And thus, the title passed to another.
From that day, the Dragon Clan ruled the Ninth Heaven. Long Wei, now Dragon Sovereign, ascended the throne amid roaring storms. None dared question his might.
If he could choose again, he would not hesitate.
---
The news spread like wildfire across the realms.
Su Jian, the Sword Saint, has fallen to Long Wei in a duel among the clouds!
Yet the heavens themselves seemed to grieve. Thunder rolled across every sky. Rivers turned dark, and the stars dimmed as if refusing to shine.
In the far reaches of the world, the ancestral flames of the Phoenix Clan—extinguished for a millennium—suddenly flared to life.
The sacred grounds trembled. Fire erupted from the earth, painting the skies in gold and scarlet. Within the blaze, an ancient cry of mourning echoed, shaking the nine realms to their core.
The Dragon Clan claimed Su Jian's body. But before they could secure it, the Phoenix Clan descended—wings of flame tearing through the firmament.
A battle followed, fierce and terrible. For seven days and nights, their clash turned the heavens crimson. When it ended, the Phoenixes vanished, taking Su Jian's remains with them.
Neither they nor Su Jian's sword were ever seen again.
From that day onward, the heavens were never the same.
---
And yet… beyond creation, somewhere far beyond the reach of gods and time, consciousness stirred.
A flicker. A breath.
Su Jian's soul floated through an endless void, dim and weightless. There was no up or down, no sound or form—only drifting darkness and the echo of forgotten memories.
He could no longer feel the pain of betrayal. Only the faint ache of regret remained.
He did not know how long he wandered—years, centuries, or perhaps eternity itself. The darkness pressed upon him, whispering for him to fade.
Then, a glimmer.
A single thread of light shimmered in the distance—gentle, beckoning, warm.
He moved toward it instinctively. Step by step, though he had no legs to walk with, his essence stretched forward.
The closer he came, the brighter it grew, until the void cracked apart, revealing a vast expanse of golden mist.
There, upon a calm river that seemed to flow through the stars, sat an old man with a fishing rod. The line extended into eternity, vanishing into horizons unseen.
The old man opened his eyes as Su Jian approached. They were ancient—eyes that had witnessed the birth of worlds and the fall of countless civilizations.
"After so many ages," the old man said quietly, voice like wind over water, "someone has finally found this place."
He flicked his wrist, and Su Jian's soul solidified before him—whole again, though faintly transparent. The weight of death slipped away, replaced by a strange, soothing stillness.
Su Jian bowed instinctively, though confusion lingered in his gaze.
The old man smiled, revealing no malice. "Do not fear, child. You have crossed the threshold between heavens. You stand now at the edge of all things—the Sea of Rebirth."
Su Jian's lips parted. "Rebirth?"
The old man nodded. "You have been betrayed, slain by those bound to your fate. But your journey is not done. The heavens you knew were only a fragment of a greater whole."
He turned his gaze toward the river. "Beyond this place lie worlds without number—some radiant, some lost in shadow. Perhaps she whom you seek waits among them."
A faint breeze rippled across the water, carrying whispers of distant lives and unseen realms.
Su Jian looked into the endless glow. For the first time since his death, hope stirred within him.
The old man chuckled softly. "You may rest here… or begin again. Choose, swordsman."
Su Jian closed his eyes. The memory of her face—smiling beneath starlight—rose before him once more.
When he opened them again, his voice was steady. "Then let me walk again. I have yet to find her."
The old man nodded slowly, casting his line once more into infinity. "So be it. The blade that defied Heaven shall rise anew."
Light enveloped Su Jian's soul, and the darkness faded into dawn.
Thus began the second life of the Sword Saint who defied the heavens.