Chapter 75: Bloom of Origin

It had been ten long years since Dao Wei first began practicing the Autumn Bloom Sword Art, a sword technique that grew more profound with each passing day. As he sat cross-legged in the boundless void of the Mysterious Qi realm, his physical body remained unmoved, but his mind, spirit, and soul had expanded to encompass a world far beyond the ordinary.

Across the horizon of Dao Wei's consciousness, 10,000 avatars of himself floated silently in the vast expanse. Each figure moved with a fluid grace, performing intricate variations of the Autumn Bloom Sword Art, each motion containing a unique version of the same core principles. Their swords shimmered with an ethereal glow, leaving behind trails of multicolored petals that drifted lazily in the void.

Five of these figures stood out among the rest, their movements distinct and mesmerizing. One of them, to Dao Wei's far right, moved with the soft elegance of falling leaves. His sword strokes were slow, deliberate, and filled with a sense of finality, as if each slash signified the end of something great. Another avatar, stationed directly in front, danced with furious energy, his strikes blurring into one another. His sword danced with life and vitality, embodying the spirit of Summer within the Autumn Bloom.

To the left, an avatar's sword art was almost imperceptible, blending with the shifting winds. His movements were more felt than seen, like a whisper carried on the autumn breeze. Further back, a fourth avatar performed broad, sweeping arcs with his blade, conjuring an endless rain of multicolored petals, each imbued with a quiet yet undeniable force.

But it was the fifth avatar, near the center, that was the most extraordinary. His movements were unorthodox, unlike anything the Golden One or the Dark God had ever seen. His strikes contained remnants of something far more ancient, a power that transcended even the seasons. His sword movements did not just flow—they pulsed with the very fabric of existence. With each motion, the air seemed to warp, and the space around him trembled as if responding to an unseen force.

The Golden One, observing silently from afar, frowned deeply. "This… this is not just the Autumn Bloom Sword Art," he muttered. "He has tapped into something else—something more primal."

The Dark God's eyes gleamed with curiosity. "Yes, I can feel it too," he said softly, his voice laced with a mix of admiration and wariness. "He has encompassed the power of Origin into his sword art."

Origin—the most basic foundation of creation. Every living thing, every object, every breath of air was composed of infinitesimal particles of Origin, the raw material of existence itself. Dao Wei had somehow woven this fundamental force into his swordsmanship. His strikes now held the essence of the universe's birth, the spark of creation that resided in every atom of life. The movements of his avatars weren't just profound—they were transcendent.

"But how did he... do it?" the Golden One asked, almost to himself.

The answer came in the form of Dao Wei's own tenacity and brilliance. Over the years, as he refined the Autumn Bloom Sword Art, he began to see beyond the mere seasons. The bloom of maturity symbolized by Autumn was not simply about growth—it was about transformation. As life reached its peak in the autumn of its existence, it began the inevitable process of change, the process by which all things must die to be reborn. Dao Wei had come to realize that the essence of this change lay in the very building blocks of life—Origin. By infusing his sword art with the essence of this foundation, he had transformed the Autumn Bloom Sword Art into something entirely new, something that only he could wield.

Boom!

Suddenly, all 10,000 avatars began rushing toward the center of the Mysterious Qi realm, converging on Dao Wei's true self. In an instant, the void erupted in a swirl of energy, and the avatars merged into one massive figure that stood towering behind Dao Wei's unconscious body.

The new avatar reflected Dao Wei in every way but on a much grander scale. It was like an immovable God Emperor, a being of untold power and authority. Its aura radiated with an intimidating pressure that seemed to shake the very foundations of the Sea of Qi.

The Sword Avatar raised its blade, and with a slow, deliberate movement, it began to perform the Autumn Bloom Sword Art. Each strike, though measured, carried the weight of worlds. Multicolored petals, similar to those in Autumn, rained down with every motion, swirling in the air like a storm of beauty and destruction. These petals were no mere illusion. Each one contained immense power—power enough to level entire planets. Yet, despite the destruction they were capable of unleashing, the petals remained intact, their form and beauty unchanged by the devastation they wrought.

The sheer force of the strikes reverberated through the void, causing the void to tremble. If Dao Wei had not been within this mysterious realm, the damage to the outside world would have been catastrophic, irreversibly altering the very fabric of existence.

The Golden One and the Dark God watched in awe, unable to look away.

"This… this is beyond us," the Golden One whispered, his voice filled with disbelief.

The Dark God smirked, his eyes wide with shock and admiration. "This boy… he's more cunning than we ever imagined. He's surpassed even our expectations."

The Sword Avatar, now fully in sync with Dao Wei's unconscious form, continued its slow, deliberate movements, each strike more powerful than the last. The bloom of maturity, the essence of creation, and the foundation of all things—Dao Wei had mastered them all. This was the true Completion of the Small Realm of Success. But what would come next?

Outside the Mysterious Qi realm, in the Sword God Sect, the air buzzed with anticipation. It had been ten days since Dao Wei disappeared into his secluded cultivation, and the day of the Sword King Coronation was finally here.

The Sword God Sect's disciples and elders from all the various peaks had gathered at the Central Peak, a massive structure that towered above the surrounding mountains. The atmosphere was electric, filled with excitement and murmurs of speculation. The coronation of the Sword Kings was one of the most significant events in the sect's history, and this year, tensions were higher than ever.

Among the gathered crowd, Cheng Feng stood with a scowl on his face, his handsome features twisted in bitterness. He had always been one of the sect's most talented young swordsmen, revered by his peers and admired by many. But ever since the news of an "Evil Star" passing Level 9 of Sword Peak, his pride had taken a hit.

That Evil Star, of course, was none other than Dao Wei. And Cheng Feng despised him with every fiber of his being.

"I'll humiliate him, make sure he begs on all fours." Cheng Feng muttered to himself, clenching his fists. "No one will remember the Evil Star after today."

His master, Elder Chu Yafei, stood beside him, radiating a calm and dignified presence. But even he couldn't entirely hide the tension in his expression. Chu Yafei was a powerful figure in the Sword God Sect, and his disciple Cheng Feng was expected to take one of the six Sword King titles. However, with Dao Wei's rise, there were whispers that Cheng Feng's place might not be so secure.

As they approached the Central Peak, Cheng Feng's arrival caused a stir among the gathered disciples. Admirers whispered excitedly as he passed, awed by his striking appearance and his reputation as one of the sect's most handsome and talented young masters.

"Cheng Feng is here!" one disciple whispered, her voice filled with admiration.

"He's definitely going to be one of the Sword Kings," another added confidently. "There's no one in the sect who can compete with him."

"But what about the Evil Star?" someone else chimed in. "I heard he passed Level 9 of Sword Peak. If he's here, there might be a real challenge for the titles."

The murmurs grew louder as the disciples debated, their excitement growing with every passing moment.

"Where is the Evil Star, anyway?" one disciple asked. "No one's seen him for the past ten days. Do you think he'll show up for the coronation?"

"I heard he's been in secluded cultivation," another replied. "Maybe he's preparing for something big."

The crowd's anticipation reached a fever pitch as the elders began to assemble on the grand stage at the center of the peak. The six Sword King titles were highly coveted, and everyone was wondering which of the young masters would claim them.

Cheng Feng smirked to himself as he took his place near the front of the gathering. He had no doubt in his mind that one of those titles was his. And if Dao Wei dared to challenge him, he would make sure the so-called "Evil Star" was humiliated before the entire sect.

As the elders prepared to announce the start of the coronation ceremony, the tension in the air was palpable. All eyes were on the stage, but many still glanced around, wondering if the mysterious Dao Wei would make an appearance.

Where was he? And if he did appear, whose position would he take?

The sect was buzzing with anticipation, but as the minutes ticked by, there was still no sign of Dao Wei. The disciples whispered among themselves, their curiosity growing.

Whatever was happening, one thing was certain—this coronation was going to be unforgettable.

And yet, the Evil Star was nowhere to be seen.