Chapter 41: Ripples in the Mortal World

The sun hung low over the horizon, casting long shadows across the towering mountain peaks. Jiang Cheng stood at the edge of a vast training ground, observing the disciples of his sect as they practiced their techniques. Their movements were precise, their spiritual energy controlled, but Jiang Cheng could see the gaps in their execution.

"Their foundations are solid, but they lack the true essence of battle," he muttered.

Beside him, Li Xueyan crossed her arms. "They are progressing, but without real combat, their techniques remain too rigid. Perhaps a trial outside the sect would do them some good?"

Jiang Cheng considered her words. "A mission. Something that will force them to apply what they've learned. There's an increasing number of rogue cultivators appearing near the border towns. That could be their first real challenge."

Li Xueyan nodded. "I will arrange it."

Just as Jiang Cheng turned to leave, an elder hurried toward him. "Sect Master! There is news from the southern territories. A disturbance near the ruins of an ancient sect. Strange fluctuations in the air, as if time itself is unsettled there."

Jiang Cheng's gaze sharpened. "An ancient sect? Which one?"

"The records are unclear, but some say it belonged to a lost sword sect from a forgotten era."

A sword sect? Jiang Cheng's interest was piqued. He had learned many techniques, but a lost sword style from an unknown era could hold secrets even he had never encountered.

"I will investigate," he declared.

The elder hesitated. "Sect Master, should we send some disciples as well?"

Jiang Cheng shook his head. "No. If it truly holds secrets of an ancient sword sect, then it may be too dangerous. I will go alone."

Li Xueyan gave him a knowing look. "Then I will accompany you."

Jiang Cheng smirked. "I thought you'd say that."

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The ruins lay deep within an abandoned valley, surrounded by jagged cliffs and mist-covered rivers. As Jiang Cheng and Li Xueyan approached, they could feel the lingering presence of old formations—barriers long since broken, but still exuding faint traces of their past power.

"This place…" Li Xueyan whispered. "It feels like time has forgotten it."

Jiang Cheng stepped forward. The moment his foot touched the stone pathway leading into the ruins, an invisible force stirred. The dust swirled, and ancient carvings lining the walls began to glow faintly.

"Someone sealed this place a long time ago," Jiang Cheng said. "But whatever was left behind still lingers."

As they moved deeper inside, the air became heavier, thick with residual sword intent. Then, they reached the heart of the ruins—a vast chamber, its walls lined with rusted weapon racks, shattered statues, and faded murals depicting warriors wielding swords against celestial beings.

At the center of the chamber stood a single stone pedestal. Upon it, a sword embedded in the rock pulsed with a faint, ominous glow.

Jiang Cheng approached carefully. He could feel the energy within the blade—something ancient, something powerful.

"The Void Severing Edge," a voice suddenly echoed through the chamber.

Jiang Cheng and Li Xueyan turned sharply. A faint figure, transparent like a lingering soul, had appeared before them. Clad in robes unfamiliar to any modern sect, the figure's eyes burned with ethereal light.

"Who are you?" Jiang Cheng asked.

The spirit gazed at him for a long moment before speaking. "I am the last guardian of the Void Severing Edge, the final inheritor of the Forgotten Sword Sect. If you wish to claim this blade, you must prove yourself."

The ground trembled, and suddenly, the walls around them shifted. The chamber transformed into an endless battlefield, where phantom swordsmen appeared from the shadows, each one wielding techniques unlike anything Jiang Cheng had ever seen.

A test.

Jiang Cheng's grip tightened on his sword. A smirk played on his lips.

"Good," he murmured. "I was hoping for a challenge."

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To be continued…