The sun had not yet risen when the first flakes of snow began to fall across the eastern ridges of the Qingxuan Range. An eerie silence blanketed the mountains as though nature itself was holding its breath.
The snowfall was strange.
It was midsummer.
Yet the snow came not in gentle whispers but in thick, spiraling gusts that carried a biting chill through the sect grounds. The elders, already shaken by the Voidfiend's sudden appearance, quickly noticed the shift in elemental balance.
The Sky-Observation Mirror in the Pavilion of Omens cracked for the second time in a week.
A pattern was forming.
And in the eye of this storm was one man—Li Yi.
---
Frozen Courtyard of the Azure Sword Hall
The Azure Sword Hall was an ancient training ground located in a secluded basin behind the main peaks. For centuries, it had remained sealed, its inner region locked by profound sword formations that only a Swordheart cultivator could unravel.
And today, the gates stood open.
Sword Qi howled through the valley as though thousands of blades sang in unison.
Li Yi stood at the threshold, his breath crystallizing in the air. The snow didn't touch him—it circled him, forming intricate sigils in the air.
Behind him, a figure approached.
It was Senior Brother Jian Chen—one of the youngest Sword Dao disciples to reach the Spirit Severing Realm (Middle Stage). He had sharp features, eyes like cold steel, and a temperament that had earned him the title Snow Blade Ghost among inner disciples.
"You intend to tame the Azure Sword Hall?" Jian Chen asked, voice quiet.
Li Yi turned. "I'm here to answer a call."
Jian Chen stared at him for a moment, then stepped aside without a word. He had heard the rumors—about the chaos palm, the void creature, and the stars reacting to this young man's existence. Pride was powerful, but even pride bowed before truth.
Li Yi entered the sword valley.
The gates sealed shut behind him.
---
Within the Hall
It was not a hall in the conventional sense. The interior of the Azure Sword Hall was a realm unto itself. An expanse of white fields stretched endlessly in all directions. Jagged cliffs and frozen lakes dotted the horizon, and buried within the snow were countless swords—ancient, broken, rusted, divine, cursed.
Each sword carried a soul.
Each soul carried regret.
And above all stood a massive monument of ice, shaped like a vertical blade.
> The Monument of Ten Thousand Swords.
It pulsed faintly, as though recognizing the presence of a worthy bearer.
Li Yi inhaled and stepped forward. His footsteps left no imprint.
The moment he crossed the fourth step, a screech echoed through the realm.
The first sword rose from the snow.
A silver longsword with phoenix feathers etched into its hilt launched toward him, blazing with sword will.
Li Yi didn't dodge.
He raised a hand and pinched the sword midair. It trembled.
"You have been angry a long time," he said softly.
The sword paused… then shattered into fragments of light.
It was released.
More swords stirred.
Ten. Twenty. A hundred.
An avalanche of weaponized spirit pressure cascaded toward him. It was the wrath of centuries—swords once abandoned, rejected, wielded in hatred or vengeance. The Sword Hall tested not just skill—but soul.
Li Yi's aura surged.
Chaos Immortal Art – Ninth Revolving Pulse
His body glowed with radiant qi as starlight patterns flowed across his meridians. Each sword that neared was subdued not through force—but through resonance. He spoke to them through his intent, not his blade.
The snow melted around him.
The monument began to shine.
---
Outside the Hall
Elder Mo and Jian Chen stood silently. The inner disciples gathered behind them, watching the sealed entrance with reverence and anxiety.
"It's been over four hours…" one muttered.
Suddenly, the sky cracked.
Sword light burst from the sealed gates and shot into the heavens like a divine beacon. A singular pulse followed, shaking the entire sect.
The doors groaned and opened.
And out stepped Li Yi.
But he was not alone.
A single sword hovered behind him.
It was unlike any they had seen—translucent like ice, yet burning with inner flame. On its hilt was engraved a single word: Xue—Snow.
---
Sect Master's Hall
Wen Yaozi held the sword in his hand, studying it carefully. "This… is the legendary Snowheart Sword. It once belonged to our founding ancestor."
Li Yi bowed. "It called to me."
"You passed the test of Ten Thousand Regrets," said Wen Yaozi with narrowed eyes. "Not even your Senior Brother Jian Chen dared attempt that."
Jian Chen, present in the hall, nodded solemnly.
Wen Yaozi continued, "From this day forward, you are granted the title Sword Bearer of Qingxuan. You may enter any sword domain, access the sealed libraries of the Azure Vault, and—"
He paused.
"You are now qualified to represent us in the Seven Sect Convergence."
A hush fell over the elders.
The Seven Sect Convergence was not just a competition. It was a gathering of the top sects from the eastern provinces, where the rising stars of each faction displayed their strength. Alliances were formed. Enemies were marked.
But this year was different.
The convergence would be held in the Shadow Moon Domain—bordering the Abyss Gate.
---
That Night – Under the Starfall Tree
Li Yi sat cross-legged, the Snowheart Sword beside him. His qi flowed calmly, steadily advancing toward Spirit Severing Realm (Late Stage).
He had only been in the Qingxuan Sect for less than a year.
And already, he had entered realms of cultivation that even prodigies took decades to grasp.
But none of it came without price.
He felt the flicker of his mother's divine flame again—subdued, but present.
> "The seals are weakening."
He looked to the heavens.
The stars had begun to twist.
A spiral formed in the constellation known as the Dragon's Heart.
Ominous. Foretelling war.
And from deep beneath the sect—something ancient stirred.
Not from the abyss.
But from the past.
---
End of Chapter 45