Chapter Three: A Blade in Silence
Tian Jian's hand gripped the sword embedded in the broken throne.
The moment he touched it, everything changed.
An ancient current surged through his veins—not violent, but deep and endless, like the silent pressure beneath the ocean. Images flickered behind his eyes: shattered heavens, bleeding stars, and a man wielding a sword so vast it split realms in half.
That man was him.
Or rather, had been.
Tian Jian collapsed to his knees within the Sword World, gasping for air as immortal knowledge flooded his mortal frame. It didn't scream or roar—it whispered. Sword techniques older than mountains. Dao principles lost to time. The memory of a soul that once stood at the peak of Kunlun.
His body trembled. Not from fear, but from the weight of truth.
"I am… the sword," he whispered.
A pulse of sword qi rippled outward—but he willed it back. With an instinct that was both inherited and reborn, he cloaked the awakening, folding his presence into silence. The world would not feel this storm—not yet.
Above, the Sword World grew still once more. Only a faint glow remained around the throne, a gentle hum of power sealed under layers of control.
Back in the cultivation chamber, his eyes snapped open.
Moonlight touched his face.
Not a single fluctuation of energy had escaped the room. Not a single soul sensed what had occurred.
He stood, calm, unchanged to any onlooker—but in his shadow, a flicker of sword qi curled like smoke.
Tian Jian had awakened. But no one would know.
Not yet.