HEAVENLYDEM0N

Jiang Yun was born in a world where talent is everything—and he had none.

Rejected by the heavens, bullied by fellow disciples, and abandoned by fate, he should have remained a nameless mortal. Yet, when he stumbles upon a broken sword buried in the Forsaken Blood Valley, his destiny takes an irreversible turn.

This sword, a relic of an ancient war, holds secrets that even the gods fear. It whispers of a forgotten sect, of a warrior who once stood at the pinnacle, and of a blade that once wounded the Primordial Lord of Chaos himself.

But wielding this power comes at a price. The heavens hunt him. The sects fear him. The emperors scheme against him.

With nothing but his unyielding will, Jiang Yun will carve his own path—one battle at a time.

From a nameless mortal to a legend that defies destiny.
This is the tale of the Eternal Sword Ascension.

Eternal Sword Ascension

His breath is shallow, controlled, his fingers curling tighter around the hilt of his rusted sword. The scent of blood is thick in the air. The man standing before the corpse has yet to notice him, and Jiang Yun knows—this is an opportunity.

His body protests, weak from starvation, from exhaustion, from wounds that have yet to heal. His legs feel as if they are weighed down by stone. His vision flickers at the edges, his mind sluggish, his instincts dulled.

He cannot afford hesitation. Hesitation means death.

Jiang Yun presses his foot lightly against the earth, his movements controlled, deliberate. He suppresses the tremors in his arms, forcing his body into stillness. Strike first. End it in one blow.

The rusted blade glides from its sheath without a sound.

His steps are swift, silent, his body flowing forward like a shadow through the valley mist.

The moment he enters striking range, the man finally reacts.

A flicker of movement—too late.

Jiang Yun's blade arcs through the air, aiming for the man's exposed throat.

A crisp clang echoes through the valley.

Jiang Yun's arm jolts violently as his strike is blocked, his rusted sword barely holding against the force of the counter. His opponent has moved with inhuman speed, his own blade intercepting Jiang Yun's attack effortlessly.

The impact sends a shock through Jiang Yun's weakened frame. His muscles scream, but he grits his teeth, refusing to falter.

His eyes meet his opponent's for the first time.

The realization slams into Jiang Yun with more force than the counter itself.

The man is young, perhaps no older than eighteen, his robes tattered but still recognizable—Azure Mist Academy. His hair is loose, his face pale, his breathing uneven. A thin wound stretches across his left shoulder, fresh blood soaking into his garments.

Jiang Yun's pulse steadies. Even the strong are vulnerable here.

The cultivator's lips curl into a mocking smirk.

"A rat?" His voice is soft, yet laced with contempt. His eyes sweep over Jiang Yun's ragged form. "No—just a starving dog."

The cultivator shifts his stance, his blade gleaming under the pale light. "You made a mistake, mortal. If you had waited until I was more exhausted, perhaps you would have had a chance."

He lifts his sword. "Now, you die."

Even an injured cultivator remains a deadly force. When Jiang Yun seizes his chance to strike, he expects a quick kill—but the clash of steel shatters that illusion. His opponent, though wounded, moves with inhuman speed, blocking the attack with ease. In Forsaken Blood Valley, hunger and exhaustion dull the senses, but arrogance is just as fatal. A single miscalculation can turn hunter into prey.

The Fading Flame