Lu Chen sank into the suffocating shadows of a towering, rusted obelisk. He halted his breathing, forcibly slowing his heartbeat until it was nothing more than a faint, rhythmic whisper indistinguishable from the hum of the dying swords around him. Through the murky gray mist of the Sword Graves, the arrogant clatter of gold-trimmed boots echoed.
Fang Tianyou stepped into the clearing.
The 'Chosen One' of the Azure Cloud Sect radiated an aura of oppressive, stolen perfection. His Qi Yun—a golden canopy forged from Lu Chen's own plundered Innate Spirit Root—illuminated the dense fog like a miniature sun. Beside him stood Elder Zhao, an Inner Sect enforcer whose Golden Core cultivation exerted a heavy, suffocating pressure on the ashen soil.
"Is the Abyssal Core ready for harvest?" Fang Tianyou's voice was smooth, yet underlaid with a greedy tremor.
Elder Zhao bowed slightly, his gaze fixed on the fractured earth where Lu Chen had just awakened the dark entity. "The recent fluctuations suggest the seal is weakening, Young Master. The ancient sword intent is stirring. We can begin the extraction array, but..."
Before the Elder could finish, a resonant chime echoed across the distant Azure Peak. The sound was piercing, carrying the distinct, crystalline purity of shattered moonlight.
Elder Zhao paused, tapping a jade slip at his waist. His expression shifted to one of profound deference. "Young Master Fang. The delegation from the Fallen Moon Palace has just breached the mountain gates. Sect Master Fang requests your immediate presence at the Grand Hall. The Saintess, Ye Xiyue, has arrived to discuss the Fading Providence."
Fang Tianyou's eyes gleamed, a predatory smile curling his lips. The ancient treasure buried beneath the graves was important, but Ye Xiyue's Qi Yun was legendary. To court the Saintess was to secure his dominance over the entire Eastern Province. "The Abyssal Core has waited a thousand years. It can wait a few more hours. Secure the perimeter. No one enters or leaves."
"Understood."
As their footsteps faded back up the valley path, Lu Chen finally exhaled, a thin stream of white vapor escaping his lips. He stepped out from behind the obelisk, his eyes cold and dark. He tightened his grip on his frayed bamboo broom. The immediate danger had passed, but the arrival of Ye Xiyue complicated everything. She was the only person alive whose 'Heart of the Sword' could perceive the unnatural void where his providence should be.
He needed to finish sweeping the outer perimeter and leave before the dark entity beneath the graves fully awakened, or worse, before Ye Xiyue decided to wander.
An hour passed. The mist thickened, clinging to Lu Chen's coarse gray robes. He used the Luck-Binding Mirror within his soul to carefully siphon the ambient, fractured sword intents of the dead, feeding his newly evolved Void Sword Intent. It was a slow, meticulous process, requiring absolute focus.
Suddenly, the mirror violently trembled.
Lu Chen snapped his head up. Cutting through the oppressive gray fog was a blinding, pure silver-gold light. It wasn't the stolen, arrogant glare of Fang Tianyou. This was an innate, terrifyingly pure Qi Yun, so massive and flawless it felt like a second moon had descended into the graveyard.
Footsteps, as light as falling snow, approached.
From the mist emerged a woman of ethereal beauty. She wore robes of pale silver, her dark hair cascading down her back like a waterfall of midnight ink. Her eyes, cool and piercing, were the color of frosted steel. It was Ye Xiyue.
She had clearly abandoned the diplomatic farce at the Grand Hall, repulsed by Fang Tianyou's thinly veiled advances and Sect Master Fang's hypocritical posturing about the Age of Fading Providence. But her wandering wasn't aimless. Her gaze swept over the thousands of rusted swords, her brow slightly furrowed. She was following the trail of 'emptiness'—the unnatural fading of ambient luck that Lu Chen had caused by plundering the graves.
Her silver eyes locked onto him.
Lu Chen immediately hunched his shoulders, adopting the posture of a terrified, overworked outer disciple. He began sweeping furiously, kicking up small clouds of ash.
"You," her voice was a chilling melody that seemed to freeze the mist itself.
Lu Chen flinched, dropping his broom and bowing awkwardly. "G-greetings, Senior Sister! This lowly one is just an outer disciple, Chen Lu. I was assigned to sweep the outer perimeter. I haven't touched any of the sacred swords, I swear!"
Ye Xiyue didn't blink. She closed the distance between them with terrifying speed, stopping mere inches from him. The scent of winter lotus and cold steel washed over him.
"Chen Lu," she repeated, testing the syllables. Her Heart of the Sword throbbed in her chest. The face was different. The cultivation base was a pathetic, muddy Qi Refinement aura. But the feeling... it was the exact same absolute emptiness she had sensed in Cloud Edge City. The phantom who had devoured a Heavenly Tribulation.
"Cut the act," Ye Xiyue said softly, her right hand resting gracefully on the hilt of her un-drawn sword. "The resonance in the slums. The shadowed alleyway. The unnatural void. I know a phantom when I see one. Who are you, and what are you plotting against my sect's alliance with the Azure Cloud?"
Lu Chen's mind raced at lightning speed. If I use Void Intent to fight back, she will confirm my identity. If I reveal my Perfect Foundation, the energy spike will draw Fang Tianyou and the Elders back instantly. I have to lose. I have to be completely, utterly pathetic.
"I... I don't know what you mean, Senior Sister! Please, I'm just a sweeper!" Lu Chen stammered, backing away and tripping over a loose stone, landing hard on his rear.
Ye Xiyue's eyes narrowed. Without a word of warning, she drew her sword. A streak of pure moonlight erupted in the dim valley. It wasn't a lethal strike, but a testing blow aimed at his shoulder—fast enough that any hidden Foundation Establishment cultivator would instinctively deploy their aura to block it.
The blade sang through the air.
Lu Chen screamed, a perfectly pitched sound of genuine terror, and scrambled backward like a crab. Instead of using qi to block, he threw his hands up, wildly flailing his bamboo broom.
Clack!
By what appeared to be a stroke of sheer, miraculous dumb luck, the thickest part of the bamboo handle clipped the flat of her blade, deflecting the strike just enough. The moonlight qi sheared off the side of Lu Chen's uniform, cutting a shallow, bleeding gash into his shoulder.
Lu Chen collapsed into the ash, clutching his bleeding arm, hyperventilating. "Mercy! Senior Sister, mercy! I don't have any spirit stones! Take my rations, just don't kill me!"
Ye Xiyue froze, her sword extended. The silver glow of her Qi Yun pulsed with confusion. She probed his body with her divine sense. His blood was normal. His panic was visceral. His breathing was a chaotic, unrefined mess. The sheer clumsiness of his defense was impossible to fake against a strike of that speed.
Lu Chen suppressed a cold smile deep within his soul. The Luck-Binding Mirror was working flawlessly, swallowing his Void Intent so completely that he truly appeared as a bleeding, untalented mortal.
Slowly, Ye Xiyue lowered her sword. A flicker of disappointment crossed her perfect features.
"Your stance is garbage. Your meridians are clogged with impurities," she murmured, more to herself than to him. The absolute void she sensed must have been a localized anomaly of the Sword Graves themselves, not this trembling fool.
She sheathed her blade. "My apologies. The mist here plays tricks on the mind. Bind your wound. I will send a disciple with healing paste later."
She turned her back to him, preparing to walk away.
Lu Chen kept his head down, clutching his arm, exhaling a silent breath of relief. He had fooled her. His secret was safe.
But the world had other plans.
The moment Ye Xiyue took a step, her massive, flawless Qi Yun flared brightly. Deep beneath the ashen soil, the ancient, starving entity that Lu Chen had inadvertently awakened earlier felt that pure, unadulterated luck. It was an irresistible feast.
The ground beneath Ye Xiyue didn't just shake; it instantly liquified into a vortex of pitch-black, rusted sword intent.
"What—?" Ye Xiyue gasped, her flawless composure shattering as the earth gave way.
CRACK!
A massive, grotesque hand formed entirely of thousands of shattered, rusted blades burst from the abyss. It moved with the speed of a Divine Tribulation. Before Ye Xiyue could draw her sword or manifest her aura, the iron fingers clamped around her ankle, crushing her protective qi barrier like glass.
The entity yanked her downward.
"Ah!" Ye Xiyue cried out, her fingernails gouging into the ashen soil as she was dragged violently toward the pitch-black chasm that had opened in the graveyard floor.
Lu Chen scrambled to his feet, his feigned panic vanishing instantly, replaced by eyes as cold and sharp as a polished blade. Through the Luck-Binding Mirror, he saw the entity's Fate Panel materialize in the air.
[Target: Abyssal Sword Remnant (Fragment of the Great Celestial Sunder)]
[Status: Starving, Awakening.]
[Action: Consuming the Saintess's Providence to break the Mountain Seal.]
Lu Chen's jaw clenched. If that entity consumed Ye Xiyue's absolute providence, it would shatter the seals of the Azure Cloud Sect, awakening fully and slaughtering everyone—starting with him. But more importantly, Ye Xiyue's peerless Qi Yun was his eventual prey. He refused to let a dead ghost steal his future cultivation resources.
Without a second of hesitation, Lu Chen kicked off the ground. The facade of the clumsy outer disciple shattered. His aura exploded, the terrifying, absolute pressure of a Perfect Foundation erupting in the misty valley. His eyes burned with the dark light of the Sovereign of the Void.
As Ye Xiyue slipped over the edge, plunging into the dark abyss, Lu Chen dove headfirst into the yawning chasm right after her, plunging into the unknown darkness.