When the Sky-Piercing Beast shattered, its colossal form collapsing into drifting bone dust and fading echoes of ancient fury, the marsh merely fell silent, as if an unseen watcher had closed its eyes for a breath.
Mist rolled slowly across the ground, heavy and pale, curling around broken ribs of stone and half-submerged skulls. The crimson haze thinned, revealing a stretch of land untouched by rot, where the bones beneath were smooth, polished by time older than recorded history.
And Shi feng had left, another inheritance had appeared.
Yang Jian stood at the center of it.
The moment his boot touched the pale ground, a low hum rippled outward. Ancient lines ignited beneath his feet, carving themselves into existence with soft golden light. Not talismans, not formations, but something purer. A circle drawn by intent itself.
Lan Yuer's breath caught.
She had seen inheritances before. Everyone who walked the cultivation path had heard tales, legends passed down through sect halls and taverns alike. But this was different. The air itself seemed to bow inward, as if acknowledging a presence that no longer belonged to the mortal world.
Wang Qiu swallowed hard. "This feeling… it's not spear intent. It's sharper. Heavier."
Before Yang Jian could answer, the light before him condensed.
A blade appeared.
Not a spear.
A saber.
Long, slightly curved, its edge neither jagged nor overly refined, as if it had been forged not for beauty, but for survival. The saber radiated a presence so calm and oppressive that the marsh itself recoiled an inch, fog retreating from its edge like frightened mist.
Yang Jian's fingers trembled as the saber hovered before him.
"…A saber?"
The voice answered.
It did not come from above or below, but from everywhere at once, layered with echoes, carrying the weight of countless battlefields.
Child of steel and resolve.
You have crossed the field of bones without yielding.
You have faced death without retreat.
You have chosen the path of cutting forward, even when no road remained.
The saber vibrated once.
Receive the Fragment of the Ancestral Saber Dao.
The blade dissolved.
It did not shatter into light. It sank directly into Yang Jian's chest, flooding his meridians like a silent tidal wave.
He gasped.
Pain did not come first.
Memory did.
His vision twisted. The marsh vanished.
Yang Jian found himself standing atop a ruined plain under a sky torn open by war. Thousands upon thousands of corpses littered the ground, human and beast alike, blood soaking into cracked earth that could no longer absorb it.
He felt the weight of a saber in his hand.
Not his own.
Older.
Heavier.
A battlefield stretched endlessly before him, banners torn, cities burning in the distance. Above, colossal beasts clashed with cultivators whose auras split the heavens, their techniques colliding like falling stars.
And at the center of it all stood a lone figure.
A man clad in simple robes, stained black with blood, holding a saber that hummed with quiet resolve.
The Saber Emperor.
No divine crown. No overwhelming aura.
Just a man who had cut his way forward when the world collapsed.
Yang Jian felt his breathing sync with the phantom's.
Each step the Saber Emperor took, Yang Jian followed.
Each swing, he felt in his bones.
The saber moved without flourish. No wasted motion. No unnecessary force.
One cut to sever life.
One cut to protect what stood behind him.
One cut to carve a path through despair.
Yang Jian screamed as his body convulsed in the marsh.
Outside, a pillar of pale-gold saber intent erupted skyward, slicing through the fog and clouds alike. The air screamed as if wounded.
Wang Qiu stumbled back, barely able to breathe. "This… this is Dao manifestation!"
Lan Yuer stared, eyes wide, heart pounding. Yang Jian's aura was no longer sharp alone. It was deep. Calm. Unyielding.
Inside the illusion, Yang Jian faced the Saber Emperor at last.
The phantom raised his blade.
"Do you understand?"
Yang Jian's hands shook around his saber. "I don't want invincibility. I don't want glory."
The Saber Emperor's eyes burned.
"Then why do you cut?"
Yang Jian closed his eyes.
"For those who walk beside me."
The saber fell.
The illusion shattered.
Yang Jian roared as chains snapped within his cultivation. His aura surged, not explosively, but like a rising tide that could not be stopped. His realm climbed, stabilizing beyond what peak Spirit-Shattering should allow, grounded by absolute clarity.
When he opened his eyes, the saber intent around him was perfectly restrained.
Lan Yuer whispered, voice trembling, "Yang Jian…"
He took one step toward them.
The marsh recoiled.
The light dimmed.
And the Law awakened.
One inheritance attained.
Leave.
Or be erased.
Yang Jian stiffened.
"I am not finished."
The ground answered him.
A vortex of pale bone-light formed beneath his feet, pulling him backward, relentless and absolute.
Wang Qiu shouted, "Yang Jian, don't fight it! This isn't something you can cut!"
Lan Yuer reached for him, terror flashing across her face. "Please… if you resist—"
Yang Jian smiled faintly.
A real smile.
"I'll wait outside."
He met Lan Yuer's eyes.
"Live."
Then he was gone.
The vortex swallowed him whole.
The saber intent lingered like a phantom blade embedded in the air, humming softly before fading.
Silence returned.
Wang Qiu exhaled shakily. "Just… just us now."
The mist shifted.
Lan Yuer felt it first.
A tug, gentle but absolute, wrapping around her heart.
Black petals bloomed beneath her feet, spinning slowly. Time slowed, sound draining away.
Wang Qiu grabbed her wrist.
His hand passed through her.
"Lan Yuer?!"
She did not hear him.
The marsh claimed her.
Lan Yuer opened her eyes to sunlight.
Real sunlight.
She stood in a courtyard paved with pale jade stone, plum trees in bloom, the scent of incense drifting lazily on the air.
Her chest tightened.
"No…"
She knew this place.
The Lan Clan's inner estate.
Ten years buried.
Ten years denied.
A child ran past her, laughter ringing clear and bright, golden ribbons bouncing in her hair.
Lan Yuer froze.
"That's… me."
The world shifted.
Her mother appeared beneath the plum tree, silver hair catching the light, smile warm and familiar enough to shatter Lan Yuer's resolve in an instant.
"…Mother."
Her knees buckled.
She remembered this smile. Remembered the warmth of those arms. Remembered believing the world was safe.
Then the sky darkened.
Shadows crept in from the edges of the courtyard, familiar faces twisted by greed and fear. Elders. Cousins. Smiles sharpened into knives.
"Don't," Lan Yuer whispered.
The illusion did not listen.
Her mother stepped forward, shielding her younger self, arms spread wide.
Blood stained white robes.
Lan Yuer screamed until her throat burned, reliving betrayal, exile, the night she fled with nothing but rage and grief tearing her apart.
She collapsed.
"I left," she sobbed. "I left because it hurt too much."
A voice whispered behind her.
"Then why does it still bleed?"
She turned.
Her mother stood whole again, luminous, sorrowful.
"Hatred weighs heavier than loss," her mother said softly. "You carry it like a blade lodged in your own heart."
Lan Yuer shook, tears falling freely. "I don't know how to let go."
Warm fingers brushed her cheek.
"Then walk forward without letting it blind you."
The illusion faded.
Lan Yuer screamed and awoke.
She collapsed onto bone-white ground, gasping, tears soaking her sleeves.
Wang Qiu rushed to her side. "Lan Yuer! What happened?!"
She wiped her face, trembling, but standing.
"…I remembered who I am."
The marsh responded.
A pale-blue lotus formed before her, petals etched with ancient script, radiating calm that eased her shattered heart.
Wang Qiu stared. "A Heart-Nourishing Lotus…"
Lan Yuer bowed her head.
"Thank you… mother."
The lotus dissolved into her chest. Her qi surged, not violently, but steadily, her foundation smoothing, strengthening, free of old cracks.
But the marsh did not rest.
Far away, within the shadows, the Blood Demon watched.
His fury twisted the air.
"Emperor inheritance… Saber Dao… heart refinement…"
Dark qi boiled from his skin.
"How… how are these children stealing fate itself?"
His gaze locked onto Wang Qiu.
A cold smile formed.
"Then I will take one."
The fog thickened.
And at the same time in the marsh, Wang Qiu felt death step closer.