Jiang Xiechen was acutely aware of what was happening.
A black shadow streaked through the pile of rocks and lunged at her. Even though she blocked it with the back of her hand, the shadow seemed to melt into her skin. She heard the sound of her own blood boiling.
She had just used the same method to deal with the Eclipse Demon, was this retribution already? Was this the cycle of heaven, the karmic debt?
Her body’s internal protection mechanism tried to drag her into a deep sleep.
“Father, Mother, where are you?!”
The piercing cry of a young girl was so loud that Jiang Xiechen couldn’t fall asleep even if she wanted to. Using every ounce of strength, she bit the tip of her tongue. The metallic taste of blood spread in her mouth, and the sharp pain made her body shiver reflexively.
Jiang Xiechen snapped her eyes open. Her golden pupils were as brilliant as light, shining as dazzlingly as the sun.
Though she had regained consciousness, her body remained immobile. At this height, if she fell, death was certain.
She exhaled slowly and strangely let go of all her strength, allowing the Qiushuang Sword to slip from her grasp. Her pinky finger brushed against the hilt as it fell. The finger twitched instinctively, wanting to grab the blade, for a sword cultivator, abandoning one’s natal sword was no different from forfeiting one’s life.
By discarding the sword now, Jiang Xiechen truly had zero chance of reversing the situation. Yet, she chose to use the meager stamina she had recovered on this single action.
The Temptation in the Dark
Wen Chiyue could only watch as the distance between her and her master increased. She knew that if she didn’t take control of the Qiushuang Sword, her master would die.
Without a second thought, Wen Chiyue held her hands before her chest in a “sword unsheathing” gesture, focusing her soul to possess the Qiushuang Sword and diving back toward Jiang Xiechen.
Suddenly, the black mist that had previously merged into Wen Chiyue’s body reappeared, coiling around her wrist. A hoarse, sandpaper like voice whispered from within the shadows:
“Jiang Xiechen already suspects you. If you take control of the sword this quickly, aren’t you afraid her suspicion will deepen?”
The voice was low and grating, like a bellows. It continued its manipulation:
“Wait until she is about to hit the ground before you save her. That way, she won’t question you, she’ll only feel gratitude. Have you heard of the ‘Bridge Effect’? Since you like her, the more critical the moment you save her, the more she will love you.”
Wen Chiyue’s strength wavered. The Qiushuang Sword, losing its steady guidance, collided with a flying boulder with a loud bang.
The voice inwardly rejoiced, until Wen Chiyue spoke coldly: “So noisy.”
“Wha…. How?! You’re conscious?!” the voice cried in shock. “Impossible! No one stays awake under my control!”
Wen Chiyue’s eyes flashed a deep, bleeding red. “I said, you’re too loud.”
She regained full control of the Qiushuang Sword. The blade slid beneath Jiang Xiechen to shield her from debris. She even thoughtfully swiped a cloth from nearby to cushion the ground before gently laying Jiang Xiechen down.
Jiang Xiechen remained eyes closed, seemingly unconscious.
The Awakening of the Blade
With a sharp sword gesture, Wen Chiyue sent a cold light piercing into the center of the demonic energy. A miserable scream rang out as the mist dissipated. Wen Chiyue sat cross-legged, closing her eyes to refine the residual demonic Qi.
Once her breath stabilized, she looked at the demonic energy swimming obediently in her palm. “If I weren’t trying to find your physical body, who would bother playing dumb with you? Idiot. If you’re going to tempt someone, at least offer something appealing.”
Whether her master liked her was something Wen Chiyue left to fate. She would work harder and be more likable, but she wouldn’t force it. A puppy never begs its owner to love only them, a puppy only guarantees 100% sincerity.
I’m not a puppy, Wen Chiyue thought proudly, I am my master’s natal sword.
She could guarantee her sincerity and save her master’s life. What sword cultivator wouldn’t love such an excellent sword?
“Master? Wake up,” she called softly.
Jiang Xiechen lay motionless. Her pale face looked transparent under the moonlight, making her seem like a being from another world. Wen Chiyue suddenly wondered, if Master ever grew too tired, would she really leave the Qiushuang Sword behind and jump into the abyss without looking back? Was death a form of liberation for her?
“Master, don’t scare me… the ground is cold,” Wen Chiyue’s voice trembled.
As Jiang Xiechen’s breathing grew fainter, Wen Chiyue panicked. She remembered hearing that a sword spirit, once powerful enough, could use spiritual power to manifest a physical body.
The Hidden Truth
As Wen Chiyue focused, she noticed a dark red mark on Jiang Xiechen’s chest. It looked like an array, a fish with something in its mouth, swimming in a circle of ripples.
The sword vibrated violently. Suddenly, Wen Chiyue felt her soul shudder. She reached out to touch the array, and her hand, no longer transparent became solid.
She had manifested.
She was dressed in green, with golden hair and red eyes. A black mole sat at the corner of her eye. Looking at her reflection in the water, she felt a surge of dread. In this world, deep red eyes were the ultimate symbol of the Demonic Race.
“I’m not a demon… but why this color?” she worried.
Meanwhile, Jiang Xiechen’s eyes cracked open slightly. She saw Wen Chiyue’s face, the red eyes, the demonic aura. A kaleidoscope of emotions flickered in her gaze before she closed them again.
She whispered soundlessly: “Demons… deserve nothing but death.”