The morning sun bled over the peaks of the Heavenly Sword Sect, casting long, jagged shadows across the stone paths.
Li Ye emerged from Cave #404. He felt different. The Wind Essence he had drained from Lin Xiaoyue the previous night had settled in his meridians, lightening his bones. When he walked, he felt a subtle updraft under his heels, a passive effect of the [Phantom Step] technique merging with the wind energy.
He checked his inventory.
Spirit Stones: 12 (Low Grade).
System Points: 40.
Weapon: A standard iron sword looted from Zhao Hu.
"Insufficient," Li Ye muttered, drawing the iron sword. He flicked his wrist, channeling a burst of his Layer 5 Qi.
PING.
The metal groaned. A hairline fracture appeared near the hilt. The cheap steel couldn't handle the density of his reinforced Qi, let alone the corrosive nature of the Plunder System.
"If I fight Wang Teng with this, it will shatter in the first exchange. I need something that can handle... heavy feeding."
He sheathed the cracking blade and headed toward the Weapon Pavilion.
The Furnace of War
The Weapon Pavilion was a massive, soot-stained fortress built into the side of a dormant volcano at the sect's western edge. Even from a distance, the heat was palpable, distorting the air in shimmering waves. The rhythmic CLANG-CLANG-CLANG of a thousand hammers rang out like the heartbeat of a war god.
Li Ye stepped through the archway. The air inside was thick with the smell of sulfur, coal dust, and male sweat.
Rows of racks displayed thousands of weapons: swords, sabers, spears, halberds. Disciples bustled about, haggling with the smiths or testing blades on wooden dummies.
Li Ye ignored the shiny, polished weapons on the main displays. Those were for show—mass-produced garbage for the masses.
[SYSTEM SCAN INITIATED] [SEARCHING FOR COMPATIBLE ARTIFACT...]
His eyes glowed with a faint blue light as the System filtered the visual data.
Steel Saber: Trash.
Mithril Dagger: Low Durability.
Jade Sword: Good conductivity, too fragile.
He walked deeper into the pavilion, past the premium counters, toward the "Discount & Scrap" corner near the back. This area was piled with rusted metal, chipped blades, and failed experiments.
"Hey! You!"
A burly shopkeeper with a greasy apron and a burn scar over one eye shouted from behind a counter. "That's the junk pile, kid. If you can't afford a real sword, get out. I don't run a charity."
Li Ye ignored him. The System was vibrating in his skull.
[SIGNAL DETECTED.] [SOURCE: 3 METERS AHEAD. BENEATH THE PILE.]
Li Ye crouched down. He shoved aside a bent copper shield and a broken spear shaft. Buried beneath the debris was a long, black object wrapped in rotting oilcloth.
He reached out.
As soon as his fingers brushed the cloth, a cold shock ran up his arm, contrasting sharply with the heat of the room.
[ITEM IDENTIFIED] [NAME: UNNAMED BLACK IRON SWORD (DORMANT)] [GRADE: UNKNOWN (CURSED)] [TRAIT: BLOODTHIRST. THE BLADE CONSUMES THE USER'S QI TO SUSTAIN ITS EDGE. PREVIOUS OWNERS DIED OF QI DEVIATION.] [SYSTEM COMPATIBILITY: 100%. THE SYSTEM CAN NEGATE THE CURSE AND REDIRECT THE FEEDING TO THE ENEMY.]
"Jackpot," Li Ye whispered.
He grabbed the hilt. It was rough, wrapped in shark skin that had turned black with age. He pulled it from the pile. The oilcloth fell away.
It wasn't a pretty weapon. It was a heavy, single-edged Dao (Saber), straight but with a slight curve at the tip. The metal was dark, matte black, absorbing the light rather than reflecting it. It looked like a slab of obsidian. There was no rust, only a dull, hungry silence.
Li Ye stood up, testing the weight. It was heavy—at least fifty pounds. Perfect.
"Put that down."
The voice came from behind him. It wasn't the shopkeeper.
Li Ye turned.
Standing there was a group of three disciples. They wore the azure robes of the Outer Sect, but the embroidery on their cuffs marked them as members of the "Tiger Faction"—Wang Teng's clique.
The leader was a tall, lanky man with a face like a ferret. Liu Mang. Body Tempering Layer 7.
"Well, well," Liu Mang sneered, stepping closer. "If it isn't the dead man walking. I heard you were back, Li Ye. I didn't believe it until I smelled the stench of the servant quarters."
He looked at the black sword in Li Ye's hand.
"That's a nice piece of scrap," Liu Mang said, though his eyes betrayed a hint of greed. He could sense the ominous aura of the blade. "I think I'll take it. I need a new stick to beat my dogs with."
The shopkeeper hurried over, sensing trouble—and profit. "Ah, Senior Brother Liu! You have a keen eye. That blade... it's a bit cursed, but for a cultivator of your strength, it's nothing! 20 Spirit Stones!"
"20?" Liu Mang laughed. He pointed at Li Ye. "Put it on the counter, trash. Then crawl out of here before I decide to test it on your neck."
Li Ye looked at Liu Mang. Then he looked at the sword.
"The System says this sword is thirsty," Li Ye said softly.
"What are you mumbling about?" Liu Mang scowled. He signaled his two lackeys (Layer 5). "Take it from him. Break his arms."
The two lackeys grinned and lunged. They were confident. Li Ye was just a lucky survivor, right?
Li Ye didn't move his feet.
[PHANTOM STEP: ACTIVATED]
His figure blurred.
The first lackey punched at empty air.
Li Ye reappeared instantly behind him. He didn't use a technique. He simply swung the black sword.
WOOSH.
The heavy blade moved with terrifying speed. It didn't cut like a razor; it smashed like a guillotine.
CRUNCH.
The flat of the blade slammed into the lackey's back. The sound of ribs snapping was loud enough to silence the nearby smiths. The lackey folded in half backward, vomiting blood, and was sent flying ten feet into a rack of spears.
The second lackey froze, his eyes bulging. "You..."
Li Ye didn't stop. He pivoted, the momentum of the heavy sword carrying him around. This time, he used the edge.
He slashed horizontally at the second lackey's legs.
SHING.
It wasn't a clean sound. It was a wet, tearing noise.
"AAAAHHH!"
The second lackey collapsed, clutching his thigh. The black sword had cleaved through muscle and bone, stopping halfway through the femur. Blood sprayed onto the hot stone floor, sizzling.
Li Ye yanked the blade free.
Something strange happened. The blood on the blade didn't drip off. It vanished. Sucked into the black metal.
The sword hummed. A low, vibrating frequency that resonated in Li Ye's teeth.
[WEAPON AWAKENING: 1%] [QI RECOVERY: +5%]
"It eats blood to restore my Qi?" Li Ye's grin widened. It was a perpetual motion machine of death.
He turned his gaze to Liu Mang.
Liu Mang was no longer sneering. He was staring at his two crippled subordinates, his face pale. This wasn't the Li Ye he knew. The speed... the strength... the sheer violence.
"You... you dare attack the Tiger Faction?" Liu Mang stammered, his hand going to the hilt of his own sword. "Wang Teng will—"
"Wang Teng is not here," Li Ye interrupted. He took a step forward, the black sword dragging on the stone floor, creating a trail of sparks. "You are."
"I am a Layer 7 cultivator!" Liu Mang roared, drawing his sword. "Die!"
He charged. His sword glowed with yellow Earth Qi. He used the [Mountain Splitting Slash], a technique known for its heavy force.
Li Ye didn't dodge.
He raised the black sword.
[TECHNIQUE: FROST PALM -> APPLIED TO BLADE]
He couldn't project Qi externally yet, but he could infuse the metal. The black blade turned a ghostly, frosted grey.
CLANG!
The two swords collided.
Liu Mang expected his superior cultivation base to crush Li Ye. He expected the rusted black sword to break.
Instead, he felt a shockwave travel up his arm that shattered his wrist.
"GAH!" Liu Mang dropped his sword, clutching his numb, broken hand. The frost from Li Ye's blade had flash-frozen the steel of Liu Mang's weapon, making it brittle, and the impact had snapped it in two.
Li Ye stepped in. He kicked Liu Mang in the chest, sending him sprawling onto the floor.
Li Ye planted a foot on Liu Mang's chest, pinning him down. He raised the black sword, the tip hovering over Liu Mang's throat.
The entire Pavilion was silent. Hundreds of disciples were watching. The shopkeeper was hiding behind his counter.
"The sword costs 20 Spirit Stones," Li Ye said to the terrified Liu Mang. "I only have 12."
He pressed the tip of the blade into Liu Mang's neck. A bead of blood welled up. The sword drank it greedily.
"P-please..." Liu Mang whimpered, feeling the cold aura of death. "I... I have stones! I'll pay!"
Liu Mang fumbled with his good hand at his belt, throwing a pouch onto the floor. "Take it! Take it all!"
Li Ye hooked the pouch with his foot and flipped it into his hand. It was heavy. 30 Spirit Stones.
"A generous donation," Li Ye said.
He lifted his foot.
"Get out. Before I let it drink the rest of you."
Liu Mang scrambled backward, crab-walking until he could stand, then turned and ran, leaving his groaning lackeys behind.
Li Ye turned to the shopkeeper. He tossed 20 stones onto the counter.
"Keep the change," Li Ye said.
He grabbed a sheath that fit the black sword from a nearby rack, strapped it to his back, and walked out.
As he exited the heat of the pavilion into the cool mountain air, the System chimed.
[WEAPON ACQUIRED: BLOOD-DRINKER (NAMING PENDING)] [REPUTATION UPDATE: TIGER FACTION HOSTILITY MAXIMIZED.] [QUEST ALERT: THE MONTHLY TOURNAMENT BEGINS IN 3 DAYS.] [OBJECTIVE: SURVIVE WANG TENG. PLUNDER THE TOP 10.]
Li Ye touched the hilt of his new sword. It felt warm now, fed by the blood of the lackeys.
"Three days," Li Ye murmured. "Time to cultivate."
He looked toward the horizon, where the peaks of the Inner Sect pierced the clouds.
"But first," he thought, remembering the Yin-Yang Deficit that was slowly ticking down again. "I need to visit Deacon Su Hong. I promised her a report."
A wicked smile curled his lips.
"And she promised to wash up."