Snowflakes twisted and scattered in the howling wind, drifting far into the distance. Atop a towering glacier, a thousand feet high, Dugu Piao stood with his left hand shaped into a blade, repeatedly slashing through the air. With each motion, blades of energy surged from his fingertips—some sharp and fierce, others faint and fleeting.
In a blur of motion, Fengyun Wuji appeared at the summit.
"Master," Dugu Piao straightened up and bowed with deference.
Fengyun Wuji waved his hand. "There's no need to call me that," he said calmly. "Since you've chosen to follow me, you shall obey my orders. Here, take this scroll—it's a manual for the Bone-Shrinking Technique. It can greatly alter your appearance. Study it carefully. In three days, I want you to enter the Blade Domain and serve under the Blade Emperor. I'll contact you when necessary. Unless something truly urgent arises, you won't need to reach out to me for a long time."
He continued, "This blade technique—Left Path—I created it in my early days. At the time, I lacked the strength to bring out its full power. Now, my cultivation in the sword has reached a point where I reject the presence of blade energy altogether. My body can no longer contain it. As my power continues to grow, I may eventually be unable to unleash the Left Path at all. So, consider it your exclusive skill now. Train hard. I believe, within the Blade Domain, with access to countless high-level techniques, you'll master it fully."
"Thank you, Master!" Dugu Piao kneeled again and respectfully accepted the secret scroll Fengyun Wuji took from within his robe.
"The Sword Demon… Dugu Wushang… Where are you now?" Fengyun Wuji murmured, gazing into the endless white of the distant landscape.
Dugu Piao's body suddenly tensed. Fengyun Wuji noticed it out of the corner of his eye. He turned back sharply. "Do you know where Dugu Wushang is?"
From Ximen Yibei, Fengyun Wuji had only learned that he had once crossed paths with this master of the sword. The encounter had left both men deeply shaken. Though Ximen Yibei was formidable, he hadn't dared draw his sword lightly. According to him, if either had attacked, it would have been a fight to the death—and he wasn't confident he could kill the Sword Demon before being slain himself. They never fought, but exchanged names. That's how Ximen Yibei learned that the man was Dugu Wushang, the Sword Demon—an ascendant from another plane. As for his whereabouts, he had no idea. The two had never met again.
Fengyun Wuji had long struggled with how to locate the man. He hadn't expected that Dugu Piao might know something.
Dugu Piao remained half-kneeling, his head bowed, long hair cascading forward to obscure his face. After a long silence, he sighed and said, "He is… my master."
Boom.
It hit Fengyun Wuji like a bolt of lightning.
"Dugu Piao… Dugu Wushang… Dugu Piao… Dugu Wushang… Could it be…" He glanced at Dugu Piao, a thoughtful look in his eyes.
Dugu Piao said nothing, but Fengyun Wuji noticed the knuckles of the hand resting on the ice were white with tension.
"Tell me where he is," Fengyun Wuji commanded, his tone leaving no room for refusal.
Dugu Piao hesitated for a moment, then slowly lifted his head.
In a nondescript cave nestled into an unremarkable cliffside—nothing about it seemed special—Fengyun Wuji finally found the Sword Demon. The cave, once home to some kind of spirit beast, was now meticulously clean and orderly.
"Fengyun Wuji pays his respects to Senior Dugu Wushang," he said with a cupped fist salute.
Before him sat an old man in a plain green robe, silver-haired, cross-legged, eyes shut. Behind him, embedded in the cave wall, were swords of various materials, arranged from left to right—some soft, some rigid, none identical.
"Please, sit," Dugu Wushang said without opening his eyes. His presence gave off no aura of power. He looked like any ordinary man Fengyun Wuji might have encountered before his ascension—nothing about him suggested a master swordsman.
With a trace of uncertainty, Fengyun Wuji sat cross-legged on a cushion beside him.
"Did that stubborn child Dugu Piao tell you to come?" Dugu Wushang finally opened his eyes and asked calmly.
Fengyun Wuji nodded. "I heard of you from Ximen Yibei. Then, by chance, I learned your location from Dugu Piao."
Dugu Wushang sighed. "That child… Still refusing to come back."
"I didn't realize—"
"He is my eldest disciple," Dugu Wushang said quietly. "And my adopted son. I took him in after my ascension. His parents were killed by demons. I happened to pass by and slew the creature, then raised the boy as my own. Later, I accepted a second disciple. He and Piao had a falling-out—young blood, easily provoked. Piao left and never returned. It's been many years. I've heard he joined the Temple of Shattered Void and now serves under the Lord of Destruction."
"He's doing well," Fengyun Wuji added. "He's more drawn to blades than swords. I passed on to him a technique of mine—the 'Left Path.'"
A flicker of surprise flashed in Dugu Wushang's eyes.
"Both his parents practiced the blade," he remarked.
Fengyun Wuji felt a sudden clarity. No wonder Dugu Piao's swordsmanship had plateaued, while his blade techniques advanced so rapidly.
"Ximen Yibei said… if I agreed to join your Sword Domain, he would do the same," Dugu Wushang said suddenly.
Fengyun Wuji stiffened, about to respond—when his expression changed, eyes narrowing as he looked toward the mouth of the cave.
"You sensed him too, didn't you?" Dugu Wushang smiled faintly. "That would be my rather unusual second disciple."
He stood, and in that instant, Fengyun Wuji felt the very earth shift. Dugu Wushang suddenly seemed immense—so vast that the cave felt too small to contain him. The illusion passed as he casually picked up a wooden sword and stepped outside.
"Dugu Wushang! I have refined my unique sword intent. Today, I challenge you again!"Across from the cave, on a cliff ledge, stood a stern-faced young man. His robes billowed in the wind, and countless broken and shattered swords floated in the air around him—some cracked, others split, few intact, all suspended silently in formation.
"This is my second disciple—Xiao Jian," Dugu Wushang said, pride evident in his voice.
"Xiao Jian, are you ready?" he called. "This time, as always, I will respond with a single strike—Sword-Breaking Form, from the Nine Swords of Dugu."
Such a humble man. An unremarkable wooden sword. It was hard for Fengyun Wuji to reconcile this image with the master swordsman Ximen Yibei had spoken of in awe.
Xiao Jian glanced coldly at Fengyun Wuji, then turned back to his master. "Be ready. I'm making my move."
With a sharp gesture, his right hand mimicked a sword seal. He thrust his fingers forward—and from the void, tens of thousands of broken swords surged like a swarm, whirling into a vortex, howling as they flew toward Dugu Wushang.
The Sword Demon's expression turned solemn.
"Sword-Breaking Form!" he declared.
He stepped lightly from the cliff, and with a motion so effortless it seemed unremarkable, he brought down the wooden sword in a single, smoke-free arc.
A resonance filled the air, an endless hum as broken blades collided, shattered, and fell like dominoes—until the storm of steel collapsed into itself, disintegrating into iron dust three meters before reaching Dugu Wushang.
With a flick of his sleeve, the iron dust vanished in a gust of wind.
"Incredible," Fengyun Wuji whispered, stunned. Only now did he understand why even someone as proud as Ximen Yibei dared not draw his sword before this man.