The setting sun was like blood, dyeing the village a dark crimson.
Yuyi stood at the village entrance, his long sword dripping with blood. More than ten bandit corpses lay scattered across the ground, but in his heart, there was no satisfaction—only endless oppression and sorrow.
He walked slowly into the village, his gaze sweeping over the ruins. Collapsed houses, charred walls, scattered farm tools. The air was thick with the stench of blood and burnt earth, making one nauseous.
An old man knelt beside a corpse—his son, his chest pierced through by a long spear. The old man's turbid eyes held no tears, only emptiness and despair. Nearby, a woman clutched a child who had already stopped breathing. Her hoarse, piercing wails cut into Yuyi's heart like a dull blade, strike after strike.
Yuyi gripped his sword h tighter, his knuckles turning white. He had killed those bandits, but what could that restore? These villagers' loved ones were already dead, their homes already destroyed. And he, a Deity Transformation Stage cultivator, could only avenge them after their deaths.
What kind of sword dao was this?
Yuyi closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He remembered his original intention when he first stepped onto the path of immortality, remembered the days and nights of practicing sword techniques over the years. He had once thought that sword dao was about slaughter, about becoming stronger, about standing at the peak of the cultivation world. But now, looking at these innocent villagers, he suddenly understood something.
Sword dao should not be merely about slaughter. True sword dao should be about protection—protecting those weak lives, protecting those mortals who could not defend themselves, protecting the justice and goodness of this world.
But had he achieved that?
No. He had only avenged them after they died. What kind of protection was this? This was merely making amends after the fact, closing the stable door after the horse had bolted, deceiving himself.
Yuyi opened his eyes, his gaze becoming firm and profound. He knew he had to change. He could not just react passively; he had to actively protect. And to do this, he needed stronger power, a higher realm, deeper comprehension of sword dao.
But what did protection require? Power. And in this cultivation world, martial prowess was the strongest power. Only by mastering the strongest martial power could he protect everything he wanted to protect. This thought flashed through Yuyi's mind like lightning, illuminating his confused path of sword dao.
Footsteps came from behind. Yuyi did not turn around. He knew who it was.
Mo Chen walked to his side, similarly watching the tragedy before them in silence. The two stood quietly, letting the cold wind blow past, lifting their robes, dispersing the bloody scent.
After a long while, Yuyi spoke, his voice low: "Arrange for the villagers to bury the dead. As for these bandits' corpses, throw them outside the village and let the wild dogs feast on them."
Mo Chen nodded and turned to make arrangements. Yuyi walked to the old man's side, crouched down, and reached out to close the dead man's staring eyes.
"Endure your grief," he said softly.
The old man raised his head, a trace of gratitude flashing through his turbid eyes, but more than that, there was numbness. He had lost too much—his son, his home, his hope to live on.
Yuyi stood up, pondered for a moment, then took out a thousand Spirit Stones from his Storage Ring and solemnly placed them in the old man's hands: "Take these Spirit Stones to rebuild your home. Though they cannot restore your losses, at least they can help the living survive."
The old man's hands trembled as he accepted the Spirit Stones, his lips moving but unable to speak. He could only kowtow repeatedly, his forehead striking the ground with dull thuds.
Yuyi turned and left without looking back. He knew that these Spirit Stones were merely a drop in the bucket for them. But this was all he could do.
Night fell, and torches were lit in the village. Under Yuyi and Mo Chen's help, the surviving villagers began burying the dead. New graves rose one after another on the hillside behind the village. Before each grave, someone wept, someone mourned.
Yuyi stood in the distance, watching it all. His heart was filled with sorrow and anger, but even more, a deep sense of powerlessness. He was a Deity Transformation Stage cultivator, already a god-like existence in mortals' eyes, yet before these tragedies, he was so small, so powerless.
Mo Chen walked to his side and said softly: "Brother Yuyi, your injuries haven't fully healed. Why not come to my place to recuperate? Though my dwelling is simple, at least I have spirit medicines for recovery."
Yuyi turned to look at Mo Chen, his gaze complex. This mysterious cultivator possessed extraordinary techniques yet had been hiding in a small village near Youming Pass. He had saved Mo Chen, and Mo Chen had saved him—there seemed to be a tacit understanding between them.
"Alright." Yuyi nodded. "However, I have a request."
"Brother Yuyi, please speak."
"I wish to teach you some of Xuantian Sect's techniques as repayment," Yuyi said. "You saved me and are willing to take me in to heal my wounds. I have nothing else to offer but these techniques."
Mo Chen was startled, then shook his head: "Brother Yuyi, how can this be? Xuantian Sect is a righteous sect of renown. How can its techniques be casually taught to outsiders? If Xuantian Sect finds out, you might face punishment from your sect."
Yuyi smiled faintly, a complex light flashing in his eyes: "It doesn't matter. I have already decided to leave Xuantian Sect."
Mo Chen looked at Yuyi in shock: "Leave Xuantian Sect? Why?"
Yuyi was silent for a moment, looking toward the night sky in the distance. He had cultivated Xuantian Sect's techniques for decades; they were already fused into his bones and blood. But now, he had to give them up. Because Xuantian Sect's techniques emphasized the harmony of yin and yang, overcoming hardness with softness, which contradicted the sword dao concept he had comprehended. More importantly, these techniques could no longer help him break through. He needed an entirely new technique, one that could help him break through his bottleneck.
"Though Xuantian Sect's techniques are profound, they no longer suit me," Yuyi said slowly, his voice carrying a trace of determination. "I need stronger techniques, a higher realm."
Mo Chen looked at Yuyi's determined eyes, was silent for a moment, then suddenly asked: "Brother Yuyi, what kind of technique do you want?"
Yuyi turned to look at Mo Chen, his gaze burning: "Brother Mo Chen, where did your technique come from?"
Mo Chen was startled, then smiled bitterly: "Brother Yuyi has sharp eyes. My technique is inherited from my ancestors. My ancestor was once a sword dao expert who created a sword art called the Nirvana Sword Art. This sword art contains four parts: the Nirvana Heart Scripture, the Nirvana Sword Art, the Nirvana Hidden Weapon Chapter, and the Nirvana Movement Technique. It is powerful but extremely difficult to cultivate. My ancestor once said that this sword art should only be passed to those with destiny."
A gleam of light flashed in Yuyi's eyes: "Nirvana Sword Art?"
Mo Chen nodded: "Yes. This sword art emphasizes martial prowess and destruction, aligning with my ancestor's sword dao philosophy. But my aptitude is dull; after cultivating for many years, I've only grasped the superficial aspects."
Yuyi was silent for a moment, excitement surging in his heart. Emphasizing martial prowess and destruction—this was exactly the technique he needed. Only by mastering the strongest martial power could he protect everything he wanted to protect.
Mo Chen watched Yuyi's expression, seemingly guessing his thoughts, and suddenly said: "Brother Yuyi, you taught me Xuantian Sect's techniques, and I have nothing to repay you. How about this—I'll give you the Nirvana Sword Art's manual as a return gift."
Yuyi was startled, then shook his head: "Brother Mo Chen, how can this be? The Nirvana Sword Art is your ancestral secret manual. How can you casually give it to others? Besides, I taught you Xuantian Sect's techniques merely to repay your life-saving grace, not to exchange for anything."
Mo Chen waved his hand: "Brother Yuyi, no need to decline. My aptitude is dull, unable to comprehend the essence of the Nirvana Sword Art. This technique in my hands is like a pearl covered in dust. But you, Brother Yuyi, have amazing sword dao talent and are a Deity Transformation Stage cultivator. If you can cultivate this technique, you will surely make it shine. This is also my ancestor's wish."
Yuyi was silent for a moment, his heart torn. Accepting this technique meant giving up all of Xuantian Sect's techniques and starting cultivation from the beginning. But this was his opportunity—the Nirvana Sword Art emphasized martial prowess and destruction, exactly the technique he needed.
"Since Brother Mo Chen is so generous, then Yuyi will respectfully accept." Yuyi finally nodded, taking the ancient book Mo Chen handed over with both hands.
Mo Chen took out a yellowed ancient book from his bosom and solemnly handed it to Yuyi. Yuyi accepted the book and opened the first page, seeing four large characters: Nirvana Sword Art.
He read carefully, growing more astonished as he went. This sword art was indeed extraordinary. The Nirvana Heart Scripture cultivated the mind, making the cultivator's heart calm as still water, decisive in martial action. The Nirvana Sword Art had fierce sword moves—one sword strike, and all things fell into nirvana. The Nirvana Hidden Weapon Chapter contained hidden weapon techniques so unpredictable they could kill without a trace. The Nirvana Movement Technique made one's form like a shadow, coming and going without a trace.
These four parts complemented each other, forming a complete martial sword dao.
Yuyi closed the ancient book and took a deep breath: "Thank you, Brother Mo Chen."
Mo Chen waved his hand: "Brother Yuyi, no need for thanks. You taught me Xuantian Sect's techniques, and I taught you the Nirvana Sword Art—this is a fair exchange. But, Brother Yuyi, have you really decided to give up Xuantian Sect's techniques? This is the result of your years of cultivation."
Yuyi nodded, his gaze firm: "Yes. Though Xuantian Sect's techniques are profound, they no longer suit me. I need stronger techniques, a higher realm. And the Nirvana Sword Art is exactly what I need."
Mo Chen sighed: "If that's the case, I won't dissuade you further. However, cultivating the Nirvana Sword Art requires giving up your original techniques and starting from the beginning. Are you certain you want to do this?"
Yuyi was silent for a moment, then said slowly: "I am certain. For stronger power, to protect those who need protection, I am willing to start from the beginning."
For the next ten-plus days, Yuyi healed at Mo Chen's dwelling while teaching Xuantian Sect's techniques. Cloud-Stepping Art, Swift Sword Art, Primordial Heart Method—Mo Chen's aptitude was not poor, and he quickly grasped the essence. During the teaching process, Yuyi gained deeper understanding of these techniques, but he also knew they no longer belonged to him. With each technique taught, his heart felt a bit more reluctance. But he had no regrets—only by letting go of the past could he embrace the future.
Ten-plus days later, Yuyi's injuries had fully healed. He stood up and looked at Mo Chen: "Brother Mo Chen, thank you for your care these days. I should go."
Mo Chen nodded: "Brother Yuyi, take care. If fate allows, we'll meet again in the cultivation world."
Yuyi took out a Teleportation Talisman from his Storage Ring, silently recited "Central State City" in his heart, and activated it. A beam of light enveloped him. The next moment, he vanished from his original location and appeared in Central State City's teleportation formation.
Central State City, the largest city in the Nine Provinces, was bustling and noisy, with people flowing like a river. Yuyi walked out of the teleportation formation, taking a deep breath, feeling the liveliness and vitality of this city.
He didn't stop but headed directly to Lingbao Pavilion. There he had a storage cabinet where he could store secret manuals and treasures.
After storing the Nirvana Sword Art's manual in the storage cabinet, Yuyi walked out of Lingbao Pavilion and stood on the bustling street, looking into the distance. His heart was filled with anticipation and determination.
Giving up Xuantian Sect's techniques and starting from scratch to cultivate the Nirvana Sword Art was a huge gamble. But he knew this was the path he had to take. For stronger power, to protect those he wanted to protect, he was willing to pay any price.
Yuyi clenched his fists, a determined light flashing in his eyes. His sword dao path had only just begun.