The celebration lasted exactly three breaths.
That was how long it took for the Seven Patriarchs to realize a horrifying truth.
A divine technique had been born within the Heavenly Sword Sect.
And the world had noticed.
Above the sect, spatial ripples still lingered where great figures had arrived—Supreme Elders of rival sword sects, hidden old monsters whose lifespans should have ended long ago, and envoys bearing smiles sharp enough to cut flesh.
They all asked the same question.
"Who created it?"
Inside the Heavenly Sword Hall, Li Chen knelt with his head lowered, wishing with every fiber of his being that the stone floor would open and swallow him whole.
This is it, he thought. This is where they kill me to steal the technique.
The Heavenly Sword Patriarch closed his eyes briefly, then opened them with a calm that silenced the hall.
"Li Chen will not remain here."
Several patriarchs turned.
"You intend to send him away?" one asked.
"Yes," the patriarch replied. "The blade that has not yet hardened must not be exposed to the storm."
Li Chen's ears twitched.
Send… away?
Relief surged through him so strongly he almost cried.
"Good decision," he muttered under his breath.
The patriarch looked down at him.
"Li Chen."
Li Chen straightened instantly. "Present!"
"You will descend to the Lower Realm," the patriarch said. "There, spiritual density is thin, inheritances are incomplete, and true experts are few."
Li Chen's eyes shone.
That sounded… safe.
"You will cultivate in obscurity," the patriarch continued. "Hone your foundation, temper your heart, and master your path."
Li Chen nodded rapidly. "I'm very good at obscurity."
Several patriarchs coughed suspiciously.
The Heavenly Sword Patriarch raised a finger.
"You are not permitted to return until you reach the Nascent Soul Realm."
Li Chen froze.
"…That sounds like a very long time."
"Exactly."
The patriarch's gaze sharpened.
"If you return too early, the calamities that follow you may destroy the sect."
Li Chen paled.
"I understand," he said earnestly. "I will absolutely not come back early."
A jade slip flew into his hands.
"This contains a sealed version of the Divine Art of Silent Severance," the patriarch said. "It will unlock itself as your cultivation grows. If it were complete from the start… even the lower realm could not contain it."
Another patriarch handed him a ring.
"Resources," he said simply. "Enough to survive. Not enough to attract attention."
Li Chen bowed deeply.
"Thank you for not letting me die here."
That night, under a sky filled with stars, a secret teleportation formation activated at the edge of the sect.
Li Chen stood at its center, robes fluttering, heart pounding.
"This is good," he whispered to himself. "Lower realm. Weak enemies. Slow cultivation. Peaceful life."
The formation lit up.
Just before he vanished, the Heavenly Sword Patriarch spoke one final time.
"Li Chen."
Li Chen looked back.
"Remember," the patriarch said, smiling faintly, "a sword that retreats today… survives to rule tomorrow."
Light swallowed Li Chen.
When his vision cleared, he stood atop a barren hill overlooking a vast, unfamiliar land.
The spiritual energy was thin. The mountains were low. The sky felt… quiet.
Li Chen exhaled deeply.
"Finally," he said, shoulders relaxing. "A place where nothing special can happen."
Far away, deep beneath the earth, an ancient sword coffin trembled.
In the distance, a slumbering Nascent Soul beast opened one eye.
And above the lower realm, the heavens subtly shifted—adjusting themselves around a man who wanted nothing more than to stay alive.
Li Chen felt a chill run down his spine.
"…Why do I suddenly feel like I've been lied to?"