The Legacy of a Dying Cultivator

The Legacy of a Dying Cultivator

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Darkness.

It swallowed everything.

For a moment, there was nothing but silence—an endless void stretching beyond Jiang Yun's comprehension.

Then, suddenly, a voice echoed in the abyss.

"You… have accepted the jade."

Jiang Yun's mind jolted awake. He felt weightless, as if drifting through a vast current of unseen energy. Shapes flickered in the void, forming images that burned themselves into his mind.

A great battlefield, littered with corpses. The sky torn apart, stained crimson with blood and fury.

At the center of it all, a lone swordsman stood against the darkness. His white robes were tattered, soaked in crimson, but his grip on his sword never wavered.

Jiang Yun had never seen such a sword before.

It was… divine.

The blade shimmered with an otherworldly glow, pulsating as if it possessed a will of its own. Each strike cleaved the very heavens, tearing through endless waves of monstrous figures.

But then—the darkness retaliated.

A massive, abyssal hand reached down from the sky, its fingers crackling with chaotic energy.

Jiang Yun watched, frozen in horror, as the swordsman raised his blade one last time.

A blinding explosion erupted.

The world cracked.

The sword… shattered.

And everything was consumed by darkness.

Jiang Yun gasped as his vision snapped back to reality.

Cold sweat drenched his back. His body trembled, the echoes of the vision still burning behind his eyes.

The night was still. The scent of blood thickened in the air.

He was back in the forest.

Kneeling beside the dying cultivator.

His breath came fast and uneven as he looked down at his right hand, where the jade still rested.

Only now…

Its glow had vanished.

Jiang Yun clenched his fist, his heart pounding.

"What… was that?" he whispered.

The visions had been brief, but he could still feel them—the weight of that battlefield, the sheer power within that sword, the despair as the darkness consumed it all.

"Did I… see the past?"

A ragged cough interrupted his thoughts.

Jiang Yun snapped his gaze toward the injured man.

Golden eyes flickered weakly open, locking onto him. Even in his near-death state, they remained sharp, filled with a piercing intensity.

"You…" The man's voice was hoarse. "You saw something."

Jiang Yun hesitated.

The images flashed through his mind again. The sword. The battle. The abyssal hand reaching from the heavens.

"I don't know what I saw," Jiang Yun admitted. "But… it felt real."

The cultivator let out a faint, bitter chuckle.

"It was real."

Jiang Yun's eyes widened slightly.

The man exhaled heavily, his breath shallow. "This jade… holds the remnants of my past. My failures."

His hand trembled slightly as he reached toward Jiang Yun's chest. With a sudden motion, he pressed two fingers against Jiang Yun's forehead.

A wave of burning heat shot through Jiang Yun's skull.

His body stiffened, his vision swaying.

"Listen well, boy," the cultivator said, voice urgent despite his fading strength. "I do not have much time. My enemies are still hunting me. Once they find my body, they will not stop until they uncover every secret I leave behind."

Jiang Yun forced himself to focus. "Who… who are you?"

The man gave him a faint, tired smile.

"In another life, I was known as Bai Zhen."

The name meant nothing to Jiang Yun.

But before he could ask more, Bai Zhen's grip on his forehead tightened. A flood of information rushed into Jiang Yun's mind.

Sword techniques. Battle stances. The fundamentals of cultivation. Ancient knowledge buried within layers of energy.

Jiang Yun's entire body shook.

His mind felt like it was being torn apart, like something foreign was being forcefully carved into his soul.

"You lack a spiritual root," Bai Zhen continued. "But that does not mean you are doomed to remain powerless. This jade… it is a key. It will guide you on a path different from others. A path… that even the heavens will not control."

Jiang Yun's head spun. His breath came in ragged gasps as the heat inside him slowly faded.

When Bai Zhen pulled his hand away, his golden eyes had lost their sharpness. His face was ashen, the last traces of life slipping away.

A long silence passed between them.

Jiang Yun clenched his fists.

"What am I supposed to do with this?" His voice was low, uncertain.

Bai Zhen smiled weakly.

"Live."

And with that final word, the light in his eyes flickered out.

His body slumped against the tree, motionless.

Jiang Yun sat there, heart pounding, staring at the jade in his hand.

It no longer glowed.

But somehow… he knew.

His life would never be the same again.

The silence stretched on.

Jiang Yun didn't move.

The weight of what had just happened pressed down on him, suffocating and inescapable.

A dying cultivator had entrusted something to him. Something dangerous. Something powerful.

The rational part of his mind screamed at him to leave. To pretend this never happened.

But deep down, he knew that was impossible.

The jade in his palm felt strangely warm, as if it still carried the remnants of Bai Zhen's will.

Jiang Yun took a shaky breath.

He needed to think.

Carefully, he reached forward and closed Bai Zhen's eyes, his fingers trembling slightly. Even in death, the man's face held a trace of defiance, as if he had gone down fighting until the very end.

Jiang Yun didn't know who Bai Zhen truly was, nor who had been hunting him.

But he did know one thing.

This was just the beginning.

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Did you know?

In many Xianxia novels, there are powerful techniques and secret methods that allow individuals without a spiritual root to cultivate. These rare and forbidden techniques bypass the traditional limitations of cultivation, granting even the most unlikely cultivators the chance to grow in strength and power—often at a great cost or with unforeseen consequences!