Chapter 16: A Sword’s True Name
After forming her foundation, Li Shuang did not celebrate.
Instead, she returned to her quiet chamber on Wuqing Peak and sat in front of the Black Abyss Sword.
The blade rested silently across her knees, faint spiritual energy humming along its surface.
She placed her palm on it gently.
"Wuqian," she called softly.
The sword pulsed once—responding.
"I've formed my foundation," she said. "Are you ready to show me your true name?"
For a long moment, the sword remained still.
Then—
"You've come far," said the voice in her mind. "But a name is not given. It must be claimed."
The spiritual energy around her surged suddenly, dragging her back into the space within the sword.
It was the first time she'd entered it fully.
She found herself in a vast expanse of scorched stone and broken sky. The air crackled with dark lightning. Pools of molten silver floated in midair, glowing dimly.
And standing at the center was Wuqian.
He looked exactly as she remembered—tall, dressed in black and silver, eyes sharp as blades.
"This is my soul," he said, his voice echoing across the void. "Before you can wield me, you must first defeat me."
Li Shuang stepped forward, calm and steady.
A trial by sword. She had expected as much.
Without hesitation, she summoned her spiritual energy, the cold, clear power of the Supreme Forgetting Love Technique, and drew forth her own projection of a blade.
Wuqian drew his.
Their blades met in an explosion of force.
The duel was swift and brutal.
Wuqian moved like shadow—slashing with precise, unrelenting strikes. Every swing tested her resolve, trying to uncover hesitation.
But Li Shuang didn't flinch.
Her footwork was crisp. Her defense was airtight. She didn't attempt to overwhelm him—she flowed around him.
His strikes passed through her like wind.
Yet when she struck back, her blade always found its mark.
"You do not fight with anger," Wuqian noted mid-duel. "Nor with grief. Not even ambition. What drives your blade?"
Li Shuang's eyes flashed.
"I fight because I've chosen this path."
Wuqian's pupils contracted.
Her blade surged with clear, unwavering spiritual light.
The Frostheart Foundation inside her resonated—her every move precise, elegant, emotionless yet purposeful.
And in a single clean movement—she disarmed him.
Her blade hovered just above his throat.
He raised his hands and smiled faintly.
"Very well. You've passed."
"From now on, you will be my wielder."
The sword beneath her fingers trembled in the real world.
"And my true name… is not Black Abyss."
"That was only what I allowed the others to call me."
A brilliant silver light erupted from the blade.
Its black surface cracked apart—revealing pure obsidian silver etched with runes that shimmered like frozen stars.
"My name," the voice said, "is Shuangxue—Frostcut."
"Born in blood. Forged in ice. I am the sword of those who let go."
Li Shuang opened her eyes.
The Black Abyss Sword was gone.
In its place—
The newly awakened Frostcut Sword gleamed faintly under the moonlight. Cold mist drifted from its edge. Its aura pulsed with calm, ruthless power.
She ran her fingers along the blade.
It felt like destiny.
No longer a borrowed weapon. No longer a blade of betrayal.
This was her sword.
Her partner.
Her path.
Elsewhere, in the shadows of Lingxu Peak, Ye Zhaozhao suddenly gasped.
The system let out a loud warning chime:
"Warning: Host has lost synchronization with Target's Sword Spirit."
"Sword Spirit has awakened under new master."
"Spiritual link with former host permanently severed."
Zhaozhao's hands trembled.
"No…"
She had hoped the sword would remain dormant—tied to her through some forgotten bond.
But it was over.
Li Shuang had claimed everything now.
The technique. The sword. The future.
If Zhaozhao wanted to stay ahead…
She needed to act fast.