The air was thick with tension, sharp as a blade's edge. Yan Xuanlanbin stood on the cracked stone platform, the faint glow of the Second Bloodstage Seal burning beneath his robes. The storm of the Sword Pulse Realm had vanished, but the electric thrill of battle still raced through his veins like lightning.
His breaths came steady but deep, his muscles twitching from exertion. The Supreme Sword at his side hummed quietly, its golden pulse syncing with the blood roaring through Yan's body.
The mountain around the Swordbearer Sect was silent — too silent. Even the wind seemed to hold its breath.
Then, a chill swept down the ancient steps.
From the shadowed forest came a group of cultivators moving fast and steady, their footsteps whispering across stone. They carried an air of purpose, weapons gleaming under the fading sunlight. At their head was a young man—tall, lean, with jet-black hair pulled tight in a warrior's knot. His eyes were cold and sharp, cutting through the air like a sword's flash.
This was Lian Zephyr—the Sect's golden prodigy and master of the Shadow Sword Path.
Rumors ran wild through the Sect. Lian was known for his deadly speed and shadows that bent to his will, able to swallow light and trap enemies before they even saw him coming.
Whispers stirred among the onlookers gathered around Yan.
"Lian Zephyr is here. He's heard about the Supreme Sword."
"Only a fool challenges Yan Xuanlanbin now."
"This fight… it will be remembered."
Lian's gaze locked on Yan's like a hawk spotting prey.
"You carry the Supreme Sword," Lian said quietly, voice calm but sharp like steel, "but power means nothing without control."
Yan's grip tightened around the sword's hilt, knuckles white.
"I'm ready," Yan said, voice steady.
No one had time to react.
Lian's blade ignited instantly. Dark energy flowed like living smoke around his Shadow Sword, curling and twisting with silent menace. It pulsed, hungry and cold, as if it could swallow the world whole.
Without hesitation, Lian exploded forward.
The clash of steel shattered the silence like thunder.
Sword Qi flared—golden light from Yan's sword against the living darkness wrapping Lian's blade.
The battlefield was a blur of motion.
Lian moved like a shadow made flesh. His strikes came fast and silent, slipping past Yan's defenses with deadly grace. Shadows stretched and writhed around him, twisting reality, hiding his moves, trapping empty space where he had just been.
Yan fought back with power. His Supreme Sword sang with golden fury, slashing wide arcs that split the air and carved glowing runes into the stone beneath their feet.
Each strike sent ripples of Sword Qi pulsing outward, lighting the battlefield with bursts of radiant energy.
The fight pushed Yan's body to the edge. Sweat poured down his face, mixing with dirt and blood. His legs burned, muscles screaming for rest, but his mind was sharper than ever.
With every clash, he summoned more of the Second Bloodstage Seal's power, flooding his veins with burning energy. His sword grew heavier with strength, every swing a comet blazing through the dark.
Suddenly, Lian vanished.
One moment he was there, and the next—gone.
The shadows around Yan writhed and twisted, cold fingers creeping toward him, trying to snuff out his light.
Yan's heart slammed against his ribs.
The air grew thick with dark energy, chilling the bones. The battlefield seemed to warp, shadows shifting with unnatural speed.
Then, out of nowhere, Lian reappeared behind Yan.
His Shadow Sword aimed for a fatal strike, a slash that could end Yan's journey before it had barely begun.
Yan moved without thinking, instincts taking over.
The Supreme Sword swung in a brilliant arc of golden light, slicing through the shadows and cutting Lian's attack cleanly in half.
Lian stumbled back, surprise flashing in his sharp eyes. Then a grin spread across his face, cold but respectful.
"You're stronger than I thought," he said, voice low.
The two warriors circled each other, tension crackling in the air.
Each was calculating the next move, ready to strike.
Around them, the Sect's cultivators watched in silence, the weight of the moment heavy on their shoulders.
This was no ordinary fight.
It was the birth of a rivalry that could shake the entire Swordbearer Sect.
Yan's mind raced.
He needed to master the new powers granted by the Second Bloodstage Seal.
He needed to understand the secrets the Supreme Sword still held, and fast.
Lian's shadowy blade flickered in the dying light.
He struck suddenly—a blur of black slicing toward Yan's side.
Yan barely blocked it, the force pushing him hard.
The clash sent sparks flying, but Yan's sword held firm.
He countered with a surge of Sword Qi, golden light bursting from the sword's edge, pushing Lian back.
The battle stretched on, neither willing to yield.
Each exchange of blows revealed more of their power and skill.
Yan's sword pulses grew stronger, carving patterns in the air like lightning.
Lian's shadows twisted and expanded, trying to surround and suffocate Yan's light.
Suddenly, Yan's vision sharpened.
He saw a pattern in Lian's attacks—a rhythm in the chaos.
He took a breath and shifted his stance, tapping deeper into the Bloodstage Seal.
With a shout, Yan unleashed a Sword Pulse Storm—a torrent of golden sword energy spiraling outward like a cyclone.
The storm slammed into Lian, blasting shadows apart with roaring force.
Lian was thrown backward, skidding across the stone.
The shadows flickered and thinned.
Lian's face was serious now, eyes bright with new respect.
"This isn't over," he said.
Yan stood tall, chest heaving.
The Supreme Sword sang softly, as if pleased.
The mountain wind picked up again.
The sun dipped low, painting the sky with fire.
Yan knew this was only the beginning.
The Nine Realms awaited.
And so did the true tests of the Supreme Swordbearer.
The Rival's Blade — Shadows in the Sect
The air was thick with tension, sharp as a blade's edge. Yan Xuanlanbin stood on the cracked stone platform, the faint glow of the Second Bloodstage Seal burning beneath his robes. The storm of the Sword Pulse Realm had vanished, but the electric thrill of battle still raced through his veins like lightning.
His breaths came steady but deep, his muscles twitching from exertion. The Supreme Sword at his side hummed quietly, its golden pulse syncing with the blood roaring through Yan's body.
The mountain around the Swordbearer Sect was silent — too silent. Even the wind seemed to hold its breath.
Then, a chill swept down the ancient steps.
From the shadowed forest came a group of cultivators moving fast and steady, their footsteps whispering across stone. They carried an air of purpose, weapons gleaming under the fading sunlight. At their head was a young man—tall, lean, with jet-black hair pulled tight in a warrior's knot. His eyes were cold and sharp, cutting through the air like a sword's flash.
This was Lian Zephyr—the Sect's golden prodigy and master of the Shadow Sword Path.
Rumors ran wild through the Sect. Lian was known for his deadly speed and shadows that bent to his will, able to swallow light and trap enemies before they even saw him coming.
Whispers stirred among the onlookers gathered around Yan.
"Lian Zephyr is here. He's heard about the Supreme Sword."
"Only a fool challenges Yan Xuanlanbin now."
"This fight… it will be remembered."
Lian's gaze locked on Yan's like a hawk spotting prey.
"You carry the Supreme Sword," Lian said quietly, voice calm but sharp like steel, "but power means nothing without control."
Yan's grip tightened around the sword's hilt, knuckles white.
"I'm ready," Yan said, voice steady.
No one had time to react.
Lian's blade ignited instantly. Dark energy flowed like living smoke around his Shadow Sword, curling and twisting with silent menace. It pulsed, hungry and cold, as if it could swallow the world whole.
Without hesitation, Lian exploded forward.
The clash of steel shattered the silence like thunder.
Sword Qi flared—golden light from Yan's sword against the living darkness wrapping Lian's blade.
The battlefield was a blur of motion.
Lian moved like a shadow made flesh. His strikes came fast and silent, slipping past Yan's defenses with deadly grace. Shadows stretched and writhed around him, twisting reality, hiding his moves, trapping empty space where he had just been.
Yan fought back with power. His Supreme Sword sang with golden fury, slashing wide arcs that split the air and carved glowing runes into the stone beneath their feet.
Each strike sent ripples of Sword Qi pulsing outward, lighting the battlefield with bursts of radiant energy.
The fight pushed Yan's body to the edge. Sweat poured down his face, mixing with dirt and blood. His legs burned, muscles screaming for rest, but his mind was sharper than ever.
With every clash, he summoned more of the Second Bloodstage Seal's power, flooding his veins with burning energy. His sword grew heavier with strength, every swing a comet blazing through the dark.
Suddenly, Lian vanished.
One moment he was there, and the next—gone.
The shadows around Yan writhed and twisted, cold fingers creeping toward him, trying to snuff out his light.
Yan's heart slammed against his ribs.
The air grew thick with dark energy, chilling the bones. The battlefield seemed to warp, shadows shifting with unnatural speed.
Then, out of nowhere, Lian reappeared behind Yan.
His Shadow Sword aimed for a fatal strike, a slash that could end Yan's journey before it had barely begun.
Yan moved without thinking, instincts taking over.
The Supreme Sword swung in a brilliant arc of golden light, slicing through the shadows and cutting Lian's attack cleanly in half.
Lian stumbled back, surprise flashing in his sharp eyes. Then a grin spread across his face, cold but respectful.
"You're stronger than I thought," he said, voice low.
The two warriors circled each other, tension crackling in the air.
Each was calculating the next move, ready to strike.
Around them, the Sect's cultivators watched in silence, the weight of the moment heavy on their shoulders.
This was no ordinary fight.
It was the birth of a rivalry that could shake the entire Swordbearer Sect.
Yan's mind raced.
He needed to master the new powers granted by the Second Bloodstage Seal.
He needed to understand the secrets the Supreme Sword still held, and fast.
Lian's shadowy blade flickered in the dying light.
He struck suddenly—a blur of black slicing toward Yan's side.
Yan barely blocked it, the force pushing him hard.
The clash sent sparks flying, but Yan's sword held firm.
He countered with a surge of Sword Qi, golden light bursting from the sword's edge, pushing Lian back.
The battle stretched on, neither willing to yield.
Each exchange of blows revealed more of their power and skill.
Yan's sword pulses grew stronger, carving patterns in the air like lightning.
Lian's shadows twisted and expanded, trying to surround and suffocate Yan's light.
Suddenly, Yan's vision sharpened.
He saw a pattern in Lian's attacks—a rhythm in the chaos.
He took a breath and shifted his stance, tapping deeper into the Bloodstage Seal.
With a shout, Yan unleashed a Sword Pulse Storm—a torrent of golden sword energy spiraling outward like a cyclone.
The storm slammed into Lian, blasting shadows apart with roaring force.
Lian was thrown backward, skidding across the stone.
The shadows flickered and thinned.
Lian's face was serious now, eyes bright with new respect.
"This isn't over," he said.
Yan stood tall, chest heaving.
The Supreme Sword sang softly, as if pleased.
The mountain wind picked up again.
The sun dipped low, painting the sky with fire.
Yan knew this was only the beginning.
The Nine Realms awaited.
And so did the true tests of the Supreme Swordbearer.