Chapter 17: The Blade That Weeps
The courtyard was quiet now.
Steam rose from the cracked tiles beneath Tham Duong's feet. His robe was scorched, blood crusted on his shoulder, and the air around him shimmered faintly from residual qi.
But his eyes—calm, focused, and filled with intent—held more power than any technique he had just mastered.
Across the platform, the Elders watched in silence.
One of them finally spoke.
"He broke through the Middle Nascent Soul… in three days."
Another elder leaned forward. "Without the help of a spiritual cauldron or life pool. Just raw will."
Only Elder Cố Lan, the cold-faced woman in snow-silver robes, remained unimpressed.
"Talent alone means nothing," she said. "He now bears weight beyond his years. Let us see how long he can carry it."
But in her eyes, a flicker of concern revealed itself.
Meanwhile – Azure Sword Pavilion
The forges blazed with inner flame. Weapons of all grades lined the walls — some humming with dormant spirits, others cold and lifeless.
At the center of the pavilion lay a long black box, sealed in nine chains made of thundersteel and bloodbone jade.
Only one person held the right to unlock it.
Tham Duong stepped forward.
Behind him stood Grandmaster Vô Nguyệt.
"This blade once belonged to your master," the Grandmaster said. "It has been sealed ever since his passing, waiting for someone worthy."
Duong placed his hand on the box.
The chains trembled.
Then — snapped, one by one.
Inside was a sword unlike any he'd seen.
Black as the abyss, but edged in liquid silver. The blade's surface shimmered with a strange mist, as if it wept silently.
"Lệ Kiếm."
The Blade That Weeps.
Duong lifted it — and the air around him chilled. His spiritual sense flared — and something old stirred within the blade.
A voice.
A whisper.
"Your grief… matches mine."
The sword had accepted him.
Later that night, Duong sat alone in the moon garden.
Lệ Kiếm rested beside him, humming softly as it fed on the night's sorrow.
He closed his eyes — and drifted into meditation.
But he did not enter silence.
Instead, his mind was pulled inward… toward a vast, empty sea.
There, in the center, floated a lotus.
Black.
Cracked.
But alive.
This was his Soul Core.
He stepped toward it — and behind him, a thousand phantoms formed: memories of past lives, enemies slain, comrades lost.
A woman's laugh. A child's scream. The thunder of a dying battlefield.
He clenched his fists.
"I do not carry these to suffer them," he whispered.
"I carry them to remember. And to end the cycle."
The lotus trembled — then bloomed slightly wider.
Duong's core had stabilized. And his soul, ever so slightly, had healed.
Elsewhere – The Marshes of Hallowed Silence
A cloaked woman walked barefoot across the black waters. Her veil was crimson, her qi dark and wild.
Before her rose a shrine of bones.
Inside waited a pale, hollow figure — skin like paper, eyes blind yet all-seeing.
"Oracle," the woman said, bowing.
"I see the Red Thread stirring again," the Oracle whispered. "And the last Seal-Bearer has drawn the Weeping Blade."
The woman tensed. "Then the Red Mother's echo will awaken?"
"No," the Oracle rasped. "She already has. And she remembers the boy who fled her dreams."
The woman looked west, toward Sky Sect.
"So... it begins again."
Back at Sky Sect – Council Chamber
Grandmaster Vô Nguyệt convened the high council.
Seven elders stood in a half-moon, with Duong at the center.
"The Soul Assembly meets in six days," the Grandmaster began. "But we have reason to believe the assembly will not be… peaceful."
He turned to Duong. "A faction within the Burning Cloud Sect is plotting to expose you."
Duong raised an eyebrow. "Expose me?"
"Your past life. Your seal. Your connection to the Red Mother."
A heavy silence fell over the room.
"If they succeed," Elder Cố Lan said coldly, "you will not walk out of that mountain alive."
Duong's grip on Lệ Kiếm tightened.
"Then I will silence them before they speak."
That night, he made his preparations.
He wasn't going to the Assembly just as a representative.
He was going as bait.
As a test.
As a weapon drawn from the shadows of a forgotten era.
In his chambers, he unfolded an old scroll — the one he had stolen from the Red Mother's vault in his past life.
It detailed The Seven Seals of the Mourning Flame — ancient constructs tied to fate itself.
He had once broken one by accident.
Now, he would break the second — by design.
He meditated until dawn.
And then, without telling anyone, he vanished from Sky Sect.
Three Days Later – Forest of Shattered Dawn
Duong stood before a shrine carved into a cliffside, overgrown with ivy and bone thorns.
In his hands, he held a blood-marked talisman.
Lệ Kiếm pulsed at his side.
"Here lies the Second Seal," he whispered.
He pressed the talisman against the stone.
The shrine cracked.
Split.
And from within, a terrible cry echoed — the scream of a forgotten god.
The ground shook.
Black lotus vines sprouted from the soil.
And Duong — for just a heartbeat — felt himself split.
Memories from another life surged:
Holding this blade before an army of gods.
Watching cities burn.
Laughing — and weeping — as the stars fell.
He collapsed, coughing blood.
But the seal broke.
And as it did — a ripple surged outward.
Across the continent… ancient beings stirred.