The city of Green Cloud was no longer the quiet stronghold of regional sects and local cultivators.
Word of the Sword Emperor's Inheritance had spread like wildfire, engulfing the continent in a frenzy of greed, ambition, and dreams. The winds carried the name of the ancient sword sovereign to every corner, igniting the eyes of countless sects, clans, and wanderers with mad light.
The Sword Emperor—an eternal legend of the path of the sword. His inheritance was no mere scripture or relic. It was said to be a complete legacy, forged through blood and war, capable of transforming a mere mortal into a deity of blades.
And now, the gates to that legacy were rumored to be opening.
In the heart of Green Cloud City, Lu Yan stood on the balcony of the inn, her gaze cold and sharp as she watched the streets churn below. A flood of young cultivators had poured in—some dressed in the regal colors of sect robes, others cloaked in mystery and danger. Spirit beasts roared in the distance, flying treasures glinted in the sky, and the scent of powerful pills wafted through the air. The city was drowning in sword light, arrogance, and bloodlust.
Her fingers tightened around the railing. Her jaw clenched.
Too late.
She had hoped to reach the inheritance site before the world learned of it. She had wanted to seize it with her own strength, on her own terms. But now... this had become a battlefield.
Dozens of top sects had sent their elite disciples, not necessarily to obtain the inheritance, but to either snatch it or sell it. For them, the Sword Emperor's legacy was a heavenly treasure they could trade for divine-level resources.
She turned and looked at the young man beside her.
Li Yang sipped his tea, seemingly unbothered by the storm brewing outside.
Her frustration boiled over. But as her eyes lingered on him, a strange calm slowly seeped into her heart.
Somewhere, deep within her, a strange belief had taken root—that if he helped, she might really have a chance.
"You're getting frustrated over nothing," Li Yang finally said, his tone light, almost mocking. "Do you think it's so easy to inherit the Sword Emperor's legacy? Most of those fools gathering down there will be corpses by the end of it."
Lu Yan frowned and shot him a glance. "You speak like you've seen the trial with your own eyes. Even if I do get chosen… I might still be stabbed in the back before I walk out alive."
Li Yang tilted his head and smirked. "You think all those monsters will even be allowed in? If I were the Sword Emperor, I wouldn't leave my legacy to thousand-year-old fossils. I bet the trial is restricted to those below King-level."
Lu Yan blinked. That... actually made sense. And for a moment, the knot in her chest loosened.
But the quiet didn't last.
A sharp cry split the air like a blade drawn from its sheath. The skies darkened.
A colossal beast, snow-white and majestic, swooped low above the city. Its wings sent dust and qi into a whirlwind as it passed.
Lu Yan's eyes sharpened.
A Sky Roc… from the Yang Clan.
The beast circled before descending near the inn. On its back stood a young man clad in robes of silver and blue, a sword hanging at his side. His brows were sharp, his eyes proud—he was the very image of a rising genius.
Yang Yu.
Lu Yan's gaze chilled.
He leapt down gracefully, landing in front of the inn. As he glanced up, his eyes caught Lu Yan's figure. His lips curled into a warm smile.
She was as dazzling as ever—cold and untouchable, like a fairy from a snowy peak.
And then he saw him.
A boy in plain robes, sitting casually beside her, sipping tea.
At that moment, Yang Yu's heart sank.
Lu Yan never allowed anyone near her. She didn't speak casually with others. But now, she was smiling… talking to this boy?
His fists clenched. His heart twisted with jealousy. He'd always thought Lu Yan was indifferent to everyone. Now he knew—she was just indifferent to him.
Suppressing the storm inside, he walked over with a composed smile.
"Lu Yan," he said gently, "if I'd known you were in the city, I would have come sooner. The trial is approaching. You should come with me. I can protect you."
Lu Yan didn't even bother standing. Her tone was cold and laced with disdain.
"Protect me? You're weaker than I am. Should I carry you on my back when danger comes?"
Li Yang nearly choked on his tea. Damn. Ruthless.
Yang Yu's smile froze.
Still, he persisted, forcing a warm tone. "I mean it, Lu Yan. If anything happens, I'd die for you."
Li Yang quietly gave him a mental thumbs-up. Good line, brother. Too bad she's not buying it.
But Lu Yan just shook her head and pointed to the boy beside her.
"Sorry. I'm not going with you. I've already agreed to travel with him."
Yang Yu's face darkened like a thundercloud. Him? That wild dog?
His eyes turned toward Li Yang, scrutinizing his cultivation.
Trash, he sneered in his heart. A wild cultivator. He doesn't even have a clan badge.
"May I ask which young master you are?" he said, voice dripping with polite venom.
Li Yang raised a brow, then smiled lazily. "Not a young master. Just a wild cultivator, wandering from place to place."
Wild cultivator? Yang Yu's disdain turned venomous.
To him, wild cultivators were vermin—rejected by sects, scavengers of the cultivation world. Not worthy to stand near a genius like Lu Yan.
"I see…" Yang Yu said, his voice lowering as a dark glint flashed in his eyes.
Li Yang met his gaze, calm and unmoved.
He could see it clearly.
That killing intent.
Another lovesick idiot. Why is it always the pretty ones that bring calamity? Li Yang sighed inwardly.
His fingers lightly touched the edge of his tea cup, and his eyes sharpened behind that lazy smile.
If this guy keeps pushing... should I start killing again?