The chamber fell silent.
"Half a step beyond the Phenomenon Tier?"
The nine deputy commanders of the Legion of Shadows stared wide-eyed at their leader.
There were whispers—legends—of cultivators who could break the boundaries of the Phenomenon Tier without becoming full Guardian Lords. But it was extremely rare, often requiring divine inheritance or fate-shattering luck.
Now their own sect leader had reached that threshold.
> "If I'd fully absorbed the inheritance from the Original Demon Sect," the Legion Master muttered, "I'd already be beyond even this step."
He remembered it well—the place of inheritance, the forbidden realm he had nearly died inside. A place where only one entry was possible. Even now, he couldn't locate it again.
The air thickened with anticipation.
A war was coming.
—
Six months later, at the base of Mount Longridge, dark clouds filled the sky.
The Legion of Shadows had arrived.
Thousands of demonic cultivators filled the plains. Their leader stood at the front, nine Phenomenon-tier commanders at his back, with dozens of elite lieutenants lining the flanks.
Facing them were the defenders of the Temple of the Guardians. Every high-level expert had gathered. At the center stood High Lord Crestfall, unmoved by the storm.
> "So, Crestfall," the Legion Master called, his voice booming like thunder, "you thought I retreated in fear all those years ago?"
His aura surged, thick with demonic corruption.
But Crestfall remained calm.
> "The remnants of the Original Demon Sect were hunted down and purged. What makes you think this will end any differently?"
The Legion Master sneered.
> "You haven't left your sacred mountain in five centuries. The world has moved on. The era of the Guardians is over. The world belongs to us now."
His power rose. His followers howled.
Crestfall said nothing. But inside, his heart ached.
> "If only Aeron hadn't walked the fusion path… he could have become a Guardian Lord."
But even for Aeron, the road to ascendancy would have taken decades. Guardian Lords were rarely born before sixty or seventy years of age. Even with no mistakes, Aeron would still need fifty years.
> "Today," the Legion Master boomed, "I will show you all how obsolete your traditions have become."
He raised his hand.
A wave of demonic power exploded outward.
In response, Crestfall drew his sword.
> BOOM!
A radiant slash erupted from the Guardian Sword, slicing through the wave of black energy. This wasn't the Blade of Balance, but still one of the sacred swords of the temple—passed down and infused with solar and lunar essence.
> "Not bad," the Legion Master said mockingly. "The Guardian Swords still carry remnants of your ancestors' power. But they're relics. Crutches."
> "And crutches break."
He stepped forward, his entire body now wrapped in swirling demonic force. The sheer pressure made even the strongest cultivators tense up.
Crestfall's expression changed slightly.
> "We can't hold him much longer," he realized.
The other Phenomenon-tier defenders weren't close enough to help him directly. Even if they came, they'd only be able to delay, not defeat the Legion Master.
The power of darkness surged—
But at the very peak of Mount Longridge, a different scene unfolded.
There, where the morning sun bathed the cliffs in golden light, Aeron sat peacefully, cross-legged, fingers resting on a glowing token.
His breathing was shallow. His mind was still.
> "Senior Brother Aeron!"
Elias had arrived, running frantically up the trail.
> "The Grand Master sent me. He says we're losing! You need to evacuate through the secret passage now!"
He was nearly shouting. If they lost the battle, Aeron had to be protected. As the chosen of the Blade of Balance, the future of the temple rested on him.
Even if the temple fell, as long as the blade survived and a new Guardian Lord emerged one day, there would still be hope.
> "Senior Brother?" Elias called again, realizing Aeron hadn't responded.
He hesitated, reaching out—
But then, Aeron opened his eyes.
And in that instant, everything changed.
> [Your understanding is Heaven-breaking. You have fully grasped the unity of sun and moon. You have surpassed the Phenomenon Tier and stepped into the path of the Guardian Lord.]
His eyes shone with clarity.
> "I see it now," Aeron whispered.
He stood.
Around him, the world changed. Light and shadow spun together, forming black and white, which twisted into the ancient symbol of Yin-Yang. The balance of forces had been achieved. The impossible had become reality.
> "Senior Brother…?" Elias blinked in awe.
There was something different about him now. He no longer felt like a cultivator. He felt like a legend.
> "Wait here," Aeron said with a smile.
He stretched out his hand.
And the Blade of Balance materialized in his grip.
He gave it a light tap.
> WHOOSH!
The sword shot through the sky.
—
At the base of the mountain, the tide of battle had shifted. The Legion Master had Crestfall on the defensive. Just as he prepared to strike—
> SHINK!
A sword crashed down from the sky, burying itself in the ground before him.
The energy it released made the entire battlefield stop.
Everyone stared.
Even the Legion Master froze, eyes narrowing.
It was the Blade of Balance.
Three feet long. Ancient. Unassuming—yet boundless. Engraved on its hilt was a single phrase: "True Balance."
> "The Blade of Balance?" the Legion Master muttered. "No… it can't be…"
He turned his eyes toward the peak of Mount Longridge.
There—stepping through clouds, walking as though on wind—came a man.
Aeron.
He descended from the heavens, each step trailing ripples of power. The sea of clouds moved with him, forming a path at his feet.
Elias stood behind, eyes wide, whispering:
> "Master Evergreen… wake u
p. Senior Brother Aeron… he's become a Guardian Lord."
---
(End of Chapter)
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