The air in the Valley of Giant Swords was thick with the scent of rusted iron and ancient blood. Enormous stone broadswords, each the size of a mortal watchtower, jutted from the cracked earth at haphazard angles, forming a lethal cage.
At the entrance of the valley stood Fang Tianyou, flanked by ten elite Azure Cloud Enforcers. Their silver-hemmed robes billowed in the stagnant wind, their hands resting on the hilts of their sabers.
Fang Tianyou held a crimson compass that pulsed with a grotesque, rhythmic heartbeat. A dark red tether of energy stretched from the device, connecting directly to Lu Chen's chest.
"Did you really think a few parlor tricks with Inspector Yan would save you?" Fang Tianyou's voice echoed through the colossal blades, dripping with aristocratic contempt. He tapped his own sternum, right where Lu Chen's stolen Innate Spirit Root rested. "This root sings to you. It remembers the weak vessel it left behind. There is nowhere in this tomb you can hide."
Lu Chen stood fifty paces away, his expression entirely devoid of panic. His eyes, dark and abyssal, flicked not to Fang Tianyou, but to the invisible currents swirling around the Enforcers.
Through the vision of the Luck-Binding Mirror hidden within his soul, the valley was not merely a physical landscape. It was a chaotic storm of *Qi Yun*—Providence. The ten Enforcers possessed sturdy, pale-golden auras, the hallmark of the Azure Cloud Sect's hoarded luck. But the valley itself? It was a graveyard of ancient, jagged black misfortune. The dormant traps of the Sovereign's Tomb hung in the air like invisible guillotines.
"You track the root, Fang Tianyou," Lu Chen said softly, his voice cutting through the heavy silence. "But you fail to understand the nature of the earth you stand on."
Before Fang could sneer a reply, Lu Chen's aura shifted. He didn't draw his sword. Instead, he reached out with his mind, his soul syncing with the Luck-Binding Mirror.
Plunder.
Invisible tendrils of Void energy lashed out, wrapping around the golden auras of the three Enforcers standing nearest to a particularly massive, cracked stone sword. Lu Chen violently yanked. He didn't absorb their luck—he merely displaced it, stripping away their divine protection and leaving a vacuum of pure, dense misfortune in its wake.
Their pale-golden auras turned a sickening, ash-grey.
The reaction was instantaneous. The ancient tomb, sensitive to the ebb and flow of destiny, registered their sudden absolute misfortune. The massive stone sword beside them emitted a deafening screech of grinding rock.
"What—" one Enforcer began, looking up.
The colossal blade fractured. A tidal wave of primordial Sword Intent, dormant for ten thousand years, erupted from the stone. It didn't just fall; it detonated.
"Formation!" Fang Tianyou roared, his charismatic facade shattering as he hastily summoned a golden Qi barrier, tapping into his stolen reserves to shield himself.
The shockwave of archaic Sword Intent ripped through the Enforcers. The three with ash-grey luck were vaporized instantly, their defensive talismans mysteriously failing to activate at the crucial second—a hallmark of absolute misfortune. The remaining seven were thrown violently backward, coughing up blood as the valley floor collapsed into a network of spatial sinkholes.
Dust and spatial turbulence completely obscured the valley.
By the time Fang Tianyou slashed away the debris with a furious arc of his blade, the valley was empty. The tether on his blood-compass spun wildly, confused by the overlapping spatial tears of the tomb.
"Find him!" Fang Tianyou screamed, his voice cracking with an uncharacteristic, terrifying hysteria. "Tear this tomb apart!"
***
Miles away, deep within the catacombs of the Ancient Sword Tomb, the air shimmered. Lu Chen stepped out of a spatial tear, his boots landing silently on obsidian floorboards.
He exhaled, stabilizing his surging Qi. The tomb was a spatial labyrinth, a remnant of the Great Celestial Sunder. It was dangerous, yes, but for a Sovereign of the Void, it was something else entirely.
It was a paradise.
He closed his eyes, letting the Luck-Binding Mirror project its vision into his mind. To any other cultivator, this labyrinth was an impenetrable dark. To Lu Chen, the darkness was punctuated by brilliant, localized beacons of golden light. Heavenly Opportunities. Treasures of a forgotten age, currently being unearthed by the very 'Chosen Ones' who had thrived on a broken system.
Lu Chen drew his blade, the steel humming with black, light-devouring Void Sword Intent.
"Let the harvest begin."
***
Two hours later, within a cavern illuminated by the bioluminescence of spirit-moss, three Inner Disciples of the Azure Cloud Sect panted heavily. At their feet lay the fresh carcass of a Three-Eyed Spectral Ape, a mid-tier Foundation Establishment beast.
Beyond the beast, sitting atop a stalagmite, was a single, flawless stalk of Earth-Mending Chalcedony. The spiritual energy radiating from it was so thick it formed a misty rain in the cavern.
"We did it," gasped Senior Brother Zhao, wiping a mixture of sweat and ape-blood from his brow. His golden *Qi Yun* was robust, marking him as a talent favored by the Sect's inner circle. "With this Chalcedony, my Foundation will perfectly solidify. The Sect Master will have no choice but to elevate me!"
"Congratulations, Senior Brother!" his two sycophants chorused, though their eyes lingered greedily on the treasure.
Zhao stepped forward, his hand trembling as he reached for the glowing stalk.
Swish.
A soundless ripple passed through the cavern. It wasn't the roar of a technique or the flash of an elemental art. It was simply the absolute erasure of space.
Zhao's outstretched arm separated from his shoulder, dropping to the stone floor with a wet thud.
For a split second, there was no pain. Then, Zhao screamed, staggering backward. His two juniors drew their swords, frantically scanning the shadows.
From the darkness near the cavern entrance, Lu Chen emerged. His expression was placid, his white robes spotless.
"Thank you for unlocking the seal," Lu Chen said, his voice even and cold.
"Chen Lu!" Zhao shrieked, clutching his bleeding stump. "You dare?! We are elite disciples of the Azure Cloud—"
"You are fertilizer," Lu Chen interrupted.
He didn't bother with grand martial stances. He merely took a step forward. *Void Step*. Space compressed beneath his feet, and he reappeared instantly between the two uninjured disciples.
His blade swept out in a horizontal arc. Void Sword Intent devoured the kinetic energy of their frantic parries, passing through their defensive Qi barriers as if they were made of damp paper. The two disciples froze, a thin black line appearing across their throats, before collapsing simultaneously.
Zhao fell to his knees in terror, pulling out a golden teleportation talisman. "I'll report you! The Imperial Bureau will strip your soul!"
Lu Chen merely pointed two fingers at Zhao. The Luck-Binding Mirror flared within his chest.
Zhao crushed the talisman. A spatial portal crackled to life, but instead of enveloping him safely, the stolen providence destabilized. The spatial rift snapped shut violently, catching Zhao halfway through. The horrific crunch of bone and tearing flesh echoed in the cavern as the space rejected him, dropping his mangled body back onto the stone.
Lu Chen walked over to the dying disciple. He reached down, plunging his hand into the invisible, golden aura radiating from Zhao's head.
"You took the world's fortune for granted," Lu Chen whispered. "Now, return it to the Void."
He pulled. Golden threads of pure providence, thick as rope, were ripped from Zhao's dissipating soul. The sheer ecstasy of the stolen luck rushing into the Luck-Binding Mirror made Lu Chen's eyes flash with golden light.
He had spent the last two hours trailing five different groups of disciples. He had watched them battle traps, sacrifice themselves, and bleed to unlock ancient vaults. And at the moment of their triumph, he had stepped in, severing their lives and plundering their Heavenly Opportunities.
Lu Chen turned his attention to the Earth-Mending Chalcedony. He plucked it from the stalagmite and sat cross-legged on the blood-stained floor.
"It is time."
He crushed the Chalcedony in his grip, letting the pure, millennia-old spiritual sap coat his hands. He began to circulate his cultivation technique.
The Void Root within him—a parasitic, shadowy construct he had built to replace the one Fang Tianyou stole—roared to life. It acted as a black hole, instantly devouring the spiritual sap.
Simultaneously, Lu Chen channeled the massive reserves of golden providence he had harvested from the dozen elite disciples. The Luck-Binding Mirror acted as a crucible, melting the stolen luck and the Chalcedony into a boiling river of pure evolution.
Pain, sharp and blinding, arched through Lu Chen's spine. It felt as though his very marrow was being replaced by molten iron. He gritted his teeth, a low growl escaping his lips.
The shadowy, jagged edges of his Void Root began to smooth out, expanding and burrowing deeper into his spiritual sea. The artificiality of his foundation faded, replaced by something profound, ancient, and terrifyingly heavy.
The world's spiritual energy in the cavern rushed toward him, no longer needing to be forcefully inhaled. His new Spirit Root breathed it in naturally, effortlessly.
Crack.
A sound echoed within his soul, like the breaking of heavenly shackles.
The Void Root had evolved. It was no longer a makeshift, mortal-tier patchwork. It was an 'Earth' Rank Spirit Root. His affinity with the World Essence skyrocketed. The black Sword Intent radiating from his body grew so dense that the light in the cavern began to bend around him, unable to escape his gravitational pull.
Lu Chen opened his eyes. They were entirely black for a fraction of a second before returning to normal. He clenched his fist, feeling the terrifying, bottomless depth of his newly forged Earth-Rank foundation.
"Fang Tianyou," Lu Chen murmured, a cruel smile touching his lips. "Your borrowed talent is obsolete."
But before he could stand, the entire Ancient Sword Tomb violently shuddered.
This was not the tremor of a trap, nor the collapse of a cavern. This was a structural quake that resonated through the very fabric of the spatial dimension.
Within Lu Chen's soul, the Luck-Binding Mirror spun wildly, vibrating with an intensity that threatened to shatter his consciousness. It wasn't reacting to a Heavenly Opportunity.
It was reacting to a summons.
From the unfathomable depths of the tomb's core, a presence awoke. It was a pressure so immense, so utterly devoid of providence, that it felt like a second Abyss of Despair.
A voice, ancient and echoing with the sorrow of the Great Celestial Sunder, bypassed Lu Chen's ears and spoke directly into his mind.
*"The scent of the Void... A Sovereign finally walks the earth again... Come to me, inheritor of nothingness..."*
The floor beneath Lu Chen didn't break; it simply ceased to exist.
Before he could summon his Sword Intent, gravity inverted. Lu Chen plummeted into a blinding expanse of absolute, suffocating darkness, dragged downward toward the true secret of the Ancient Sword Tomb.