Chapter 94: The Crowning - Part 5

The grand coronation was reaching its zenith. In the heart of the Sword God Sect, the atmosphere was heavy with reverence and anticipation. All eyes were on Dao Wei, the newly anointed Sword Childe, standing in the center of the arena, completely absorbed in stabilizing his turbulent energy. His focus was so intense that he remained oblivious to the world around him, including the ancient rite now unfolding in his honor.

At the forefront of the arena, the two Supreme Elders, along with the Four Grand Masters, stood in perfect alignment. Their eyes were half-closed, their hands clasped in ritualistic gestures as they recited the ancient and powerful mantra that had been passed down through the Sword God Sect for millennia.

The words of the mantra were ancient, their meaning long forgotten to most, but their power was undeniable. This was no ordinary chant—it was the Mantra of Ancestral Ascension, a sacred incantation that connected the sect's chosen Heir to the spiritual lineage of their forebears. With each word spoken, the air became thick with power, vibrating with an arcane energy that seemed to resonate with the very essence of Heaven and Earth.

This sacred mantra was not just a formality. It served a vital purpose: it purified the Heir's internal Qi, strengthened their Sword Soul, and guided the process of consolidating their Sword Avatar. In other words, it was meant to ensure that Dao Wei could ascend to his future roles with the strength, wisdom, and guidance of the ancestors. 

As the Elders continued their rhythmic chanting, the air began to crackle with energy.

Rumble!

The ground trembled beneath the disciples' feet. Thunderous echoes reverberated through the skies, and the very heavens above seemed to ripple and shift as if reality itself was bending in response to the incantation.

"What is happening?" one disciple whispered, their eyes wide with shock.

"The blessings of the ancestors… they are coming!" another responded, awe filling their voice.

The vision of Heaven and Earth began to manifest above the arena. Massive golden clouds rolled in from the edges of the sky, and within them, shapes began to take form. Ancient godly characters, symbols older than time itself, danced and floated gracefully through the air. The sheer majesty of the sight left the gathered disciples in stunned silence.

Then, as if summoned from the void, ghostly images of the gods and ancestors of the Sword God Sect shook in the sky. Their forms were colossal and radiant, shimmering with an ethereal glow. These were not simple illusions—each figure exuded an overwhelming pressure as if the gods themselves had descended from their heavenly abodes to witness the coronation.

The air buzzed with the might of the ancestral power, and a solemn hush fell over the crowd.

The image of a towering, armored figure stood at the forefront, his sword blazing with divine light. His presence was unmistakable—the First Sword God, the founding patriarch of the sect. Behind him, countless other ancestors of the sect stood, their ghostly gazes fixed on Dao Wei.

For the disciples watching, this was a scene both awe-inspiring and terrifying. It was as if the weight of history itself had descended upon the arena, and for a moment, it felt as though the line between the mortal world and the divine had blurred.

"To think… the ancestors themselves would appear," whispered one disciple, his voice barely audible in the deafening silence that had enveloped the arena. "It's as if they've come to bestow all their blessings and legacies to Dao Wei."

Indeed, it seemed as though the heavens were about to bestow Dao Wei with unparalleled power. But, amidst the awe, envy, and doubt festered within the hearts of some.

"Why does it have to be the Evil Star who gets recognition from the ancestors?" snarled Cheng Fang, his eyes flashing with rage. He had been humiliated by Dao Wei not long ago, and now he was being forced to witness Dao Wei's ascension to a position he believed belonged to someone else.

His anger burned hotter with each passing second. To Cheng Fang, Dao Wei was a stain on the Sword God Sect's legacy. "How could he be the Heir? He isn't even qualified!"

Beside him, other disciples who shared his sentiment began to murmur in agreement. "Brother Wuchen should be the Sword Childe," one said, a dark scowl crossing his face. "Not this so-called Evil Star."

Wuchen, a prodigy of the sect who had mysteriously disappeared, was the one many believed should have been standing in Dao Wei's place. His absence had left a void that Dao Wei had now filled, much to the dismay of his supporters.

As the chanting of the Elders continued, the envious disciples began to exchange hushed conversations, their words laced with bitterness.

"Master," Cheng Fang leaned towards Chu Yafei, his voice low but urgent. "Don't you think it's time to call my elder brother, Baitian, back? If anyone should be the Sword Childe, it's him."

Chu Yafei's eyes flickered for a moment, but his expression remained calm. "Fang'er," he said in a soft rumble, "Baitian still has matters to attend to. You must remain patient."

But Cheng Fang's patience was wearing thin. His fists clenched tightly, knuckles white with frustration. He couldn't stand the thought of the Evil Star ascending to the highest position within the sect. 

Others in the stands were less concerned about Cheng Fang's ambitions and more interested in Dao Wei's reaction—or rather, his lack thereof. Even as the gods and ancestors materialized in the sky, Dao Wei hadn't moved or spoken a single word. His body remained standing like a petrified soul, his face still as stone. He was completely oblivious to the monumental event taking place around him.

"Why hasn't he said anything?" a disciple asked, his brow furrowed. "Doesn't he care about becoming the Heir?"

"He's still the little demon after all," another replied, shaking his head. "Who knows what goes on in that head of his? Maybe he doesn't even want the title."

But the truth was far from their assumptions. While the others gossiped and speculated, Dao Wei remained locked in his inner battle. The storm within his Sea of Qi had not yet subsided. His Heaven Defying Chaos Scripture was working overtime to keep his volatile energy under control. He was teetering on the edge of a breakthrough, dangerously close to advancing into the Nirvana Realm—a step that would derail his goal of reaching the Ultimate Mortal Realm.

With every fiber of his being, Dao Wei focused on stabilizing his internal energy. Each breath he took was slow and deliberate, guiding the wild energy through his meridians and slowly calming the tempest within him. The blessings and legacies of the gods and ancestors were being poured upon him, yet his attention was solely on preventing a premature breakthrough.

In the stands, whispers continued to spread.

"Do you think he'll accept the title of Sword Childe?" a young disciple asked, his voice uncertain.

"Why wouldn't he?" replied another. "This is the greatest honor any of us could hope for. He'd be foolish to refuse."

"But… he hasn't said or done anything," the first disciple countered. "Maybe he doesn't care."

Hummmmm!!!

Suddenly, the air in the arena shifted once again. The vision of the gods and ancestors seemed to intensify, their ethereal forms growing even more defined. A powerful hum filled the air, vibrating through the bones of every disciple present. It was as though the heavens themselves were speaking, their divine will pressing down on the mortal world.

The Supreme Elders and Grand Masters chanted louder, their voices harmonizing with the cosmic hum that reverberated through the arena. 

Dao Wei's body trembled slightly under the weight of the ancestral energy pouring into him. Though he remained motionless, his internal energy was being purified and guided, his Sword Soul being strengthened, and his future path as the Sword Childe was being laid out before him. Yet, for Dao Wei, this was not a moment of triumph—it was a moment of survival. He had to remain in control, no matter what.

Rumble!

The scene began to change once more, this time more brazen and intense than before. The sky darkened, and the air grew thick with divine power. The ancestors seemed to take on a more ominous presence as if they were demanding something from Dao Wei.