The sun hung low on the horizon, casting a fiery glow over the battlefield. Ye Qing stood amidst the carnage, his breath ragged and his body covered in wounds. Around him lay the bodies of his attackers, their blood soaking into the earth. The leader of the group, a man known as Black Blade, groaned in pain as he clutched a deep gash in his chest.

“You… How did you…” Black Blade’s voice was weak, his eyes filled with disbelief. Ye Qing, a boy barely old enough to be called a man, had defeated him—a seasoned warrior feared throughout the Azure Continent.

Ye Qing didn’t respond. His gaze was fixed on his sword, which now pulsed with a steady light. He could feel it—an intelligence, a soul within the blade that resonated with his own. “You’ve awakened me,” a deep, resonant voice echoed in his mind. “I am the Sword Soul, the essence of the Venerable Sword God. Together, we will carve a path through the heavens.”

Ye Qing’s heart raced. The power he had tapped into during the fight wasn’t his own—it was the Sword Soul guiding him, lending him strength and skill beyond his years. But this power came with a price. “You must prove yourself worthy,” the Sword Soul warned. “The road ahead is fraught with peril. Betrayal, bloodshed, and heartbreak await you. But if you endure, you will rise above them all.”

Black Blade coughed, snapping Ye Qing out of his thoughts. “Mercy,” the man pleaded, his arrogance replaced by desperation. Ye Qing hesitated. The Sword Soul’s voice was cold and unyielding. “A sword does not spare its enemies. Strike him down.”

Ye Qing’s hand trembled as he raised his blade. He had never taken a life before, but the memory of his family’s slaughter burned in his mind. With a single, swift motion, he ended Black Blade’s life. As the man’s body slumped to the ground, Ye Qing felt a strange mix of triumph and sorrow. This was his first step on the path of vengeance—and there was no turning back.The sun hung low on the horizon, casting a fiery glow over the battlefield. Ye Qing stood amidst the carnage, his breath ragged and his body covered in wounds. Around him lay the bodies of his attackers, their blood soaking into the earth. The leader of the group, a man known as Black Blade, groaned in pain as he clutched a deep gash in his chest.

“You… How did you…” Black Blade’s voice was weak, his eyes filled with disbelief. Ye Qing, a boy barely old enough to be called a man, had defeated him—a seasoned warrior feared throughout the Azure Continent.

Ye Qing didn’t respond. His gaze was fixed on his sword, which now pulsed with a steady light. He could feel it—an intelligence, a soul within the blade that resonated with his own. “You’ve awakened me,” a deep, resonant voice echoed in his mind. “I am the Sword Soul, the essence of the Venerable Sword God. Together, we will carve a path through the heavens.”

Ye Qing’s heart raced. The power he had tapped into during the fight wasn’t his own—it was the Sword Soul guiding him, lending him strength and skill beyond his years. But this power came with a price. “You must prove yourself worthy,” the Sword Soul warned. “The road ahead is fraught with peril. Betrayal, bloodshed, and heartbreak await you. But if you endure, you will rise above them all.”

Black Blade coughed, snapping Ye Qing out of his thoughts. “Mercy,” the man pleaded, his arrogance replaced by desperation. Ye Qing hesitated. The Sword Soul’s voice was cold and unyielding. “A sword does not spare its enemies. Strike him down.”

Ye Qing’s hand trembled as he raised his blade. He had never taken a life before, but the memory of his family’s slaughter burned in his mind. With a single, swift motion, he ended Black Blade’s life. As the man’s body slumped to the ground, Ye Qing felt a strange mix of triumph and sorrow. This was his first step on the path of vengeance—and there was no turning back.The sun hung low on the horizon, casting a fiery glow over the battlefield. Ye Qing stood amidst the carnage, his breath ragged and his body covered in wounds. Around him lay the bodies of his attackers, their blood soaking into the earth. The leader of the group, a man known as Black Blade, groaned in pain as he clutched a deep gash in his chest.

“You… How did you…” Black Blade’s voice was weak, his eyes filled with disbelief. Ye Qing, a boy barely old enough to be called a man, had defeated him—a seasoned warrior feared throughout the Azure Continent.

Ye Qing didn’t respond. His gaze was fixed on his sword, which now pulsed with a steady light. He could feel it—an intelligence, a soul within the blade that resonated with his own. “You’ve awakened me,” a deep, resonant voice echoed in his mind. “I am the Sword Soul, the essence of the Venerable Sword God. Together, we will carve a path through the heavens.”

Ye Qing’s heart raced. The power he had tapped into during the fight wasn’t his own—it was the Sword Soul guiding him, lending him strength and skill beyond his years. But this power came with a price. “You must prove yourself worthy,” the Sword Soul warned. “The road ahead is fraught with peril. Betrayal, bloodshed, and heartbreak await you. But if you endure, you will rise above them all.”

Black Blade coughed, snapping Ye Qing out of his thoughts. “Mercy,” the man pleaded, his arrogance replaced by desperation. Ye Qing hesitated. The Sword Soul’s voice was cold and unyielding. “A sword does not spare its enemies. Strike him down.”

Ye Qing’s hand trembled as he raised his blade. He had never taken a life before, but the memory of his family’s slaughter burned in his mind. With a single, swift motion, he ended Black Blade’s life. As the man’s body slumped to the ground, Ye Qing felt a strange mix of triumph and sorrow. This was his first step on the path of vengeance—and there was no turning back.