Chapter 6: The Forgotten Sword Peak
1998 Words
The crowd dispersed slowly.
Even after Wang Hu admitted defeat, the disciples remained rooted to the spot, exchanging bewildered glances as though they had witnessed something impossible.
"Did you understand what happened?"
"No..."
"Wang Hu was stronger."
"Then why did he lose?"
One disciple lowered his voice.
"I think... Lin Chen saw through every move before it happened."
"Nonsense."
"How could anyone do that?"
"Unless..."
The speaker stopped abruptly.
No one dared finish the sentence.
Only Inner Sect prodigies were rumored to possess such terrifying perception.
Lin Chen was merely an Outer Disciple.
Or so they believed.
As the conversations faded behind him, Lin Chen returned to his hut.
The old wooden door creaked softly as he pushed it open.
Inside, everything remained exactly as he had left it.
The straw bed.
The chipped clay bowl.
The patched blanket.
Nothing had changed.
Yet somehow, the room felt different.
He placed the wooden sword against the wall before sitting cross-legged on the floor.
Closing his eyes, he examined his body.
A dull pain spread through both arms.
His muscles trembled slightly.
Several tiny tears had appeared within his meridians.
He exhaled slowly.
"As expected..."
"I've overused this body."
The duel had looked effortless.
It had not been.
Every dodge required perfect control.
Every strike demanded absolute precision.
His soul possessed three thousand years of combat experience, but his body was still that of a sixteen-year-old youth who had suffered years of malnutrition and neglect.
One mistake...
One slower step...
One mistimed strike...
The outcome could have been completely different.
"I still rely too much on memories from my previous life."
"If I continue like this..."
"My body will fail before my enemies do."
That realization pleased him rather than discouraged him.
He had found another weakness.
A weakness could be corrected.
Overconfidence could not.
His thoughts drifted to Elder Mo Yun.
Forgotten Sword Peak.
The name stirred no memories belonging to Lin Chen.
But Lin Tianyi remembered something similar.
Many ancient sects once maintained isolated peaks where retired sword cultivators spent their final years.
Such places often contained forgotten inheritances.
Or forgotten regrets.
Whatever Elder Mo Yun wanted...
It was unlikely to be simple curiosity.
Lin Chen reached for the basket Xu Liang had brought earlier.
Only one steamed bun remained.
He ate it slowly.
Every bite reminded him how weak this body still was.
In his previous life, he could meditate for decades without food.
Now...
His stomach growled before noon.
He almost laughed.
"Living as a mortal again..."
"It has been longer than I remembered."
A gentle knock interrupted his thoughts.
"Senior Brother Lin?"
The voice belonged to Xu Liang.
"Come in."
The young disciple entered cautiously, looking around as if expecting someone else to be hiding inside.
When he confirmed they were alone, he let out a sigh of relief.
"I heard Elder Mo summoned you."
Lin Chen nodded.
"He did."
Xu Liang hesitated.
"Senior Brother..."
"I don't think it's a good idea."
"Why?"
"Forgotten Sword Peak has been abandoned for years."
"The disciples say it's haunted."
Lin Chen raised an eyebrow.
"Haunted?"
Xu Liang scratched his head awkwardly.
"I've never been there myself."
"But they say..."
"...every disciple who tried cultivating there eventually left."
"They couldn't stay."
"They claimed they heard swords crying at night."
"They said the mountain rejected them."
Lin Chen remained silent.
Stories like these spread through every sect.
Most were exaggerations.
A few...
Contained fragments of truth.
"Who told you this?"
"An older disciple."
"He said Elder Mo has lived there alone for decades."
"No one knows why."
Lin Chen thanked him for the warning.
As Xu Liang prepared to leave, he suddenly turned back.
"Oh..."
"I almost forgot."
He handed over a small cloth pouch.
"There are five Body Tempering Pills inside."
Lin Chen frowned.
"Where did you get these?"
Xu Liang avoided his gaze.
"I..."
"I've been saving spirit stones for months."
"You should recover after today's duel."
Lin Chen's expression hardened.
"You spent your savings?"
Xu Liang laughed sheepishly.
"I wasn't using them anyway."
"My talent is poor."
"I'll probably never break through."
"But..."
"You might."
Silence filled the room.
Lin Chen stared at the cloth pouch resting in his palm.
Five ordinary pills.
Worth almost nothing to powerful cultivators.
Yet to Xu Liang...
They represented months of hard labor.
Months of hope.
In his first life...
People offered treasures because they wanted his protection.
Or his techniques.
Or his reputation.
This boy expected nothing.
He simply wanted his senior brother to become stronger.
Something inside Lin Chen shifted.
Almost imperceptibly.
Perhaps...
The Production Bible's central truth was beginning to take shape within him.
Not everyone betrayed.
Not everyone calculated.
Some people gave simply because they wished to help.
He closed the pouch carefully.
"I'll repay you."
Xu Liang smiled.
"I know."
Then he paused.
"No..."
"I don't mean with spirit stones."
He scratched the back of his head.
"If you really become strong someday..."
"...just don't forget people like us."
The words lingered long after he had left.
Lin Chen remained seated in silence.
Finally, he whispered to the empty room,
"I won't."
For the first time since his reincarnation...
The promise wasn't made out of obligation.
It came from his heart.
As the afternoon sun climbed higher, Lin Chen fastened the wooden sword to his back.
Forgotten Sword Peak awaited.
He had the feeling that today's meeting with Elder Mo Yun would not simply change his future within the Azure Cloud Sword Sect.
It might become the first step toward uncovering the truth behind his own return.
Far above the sect, hidden behind drifting clouds, a lone figure stood on a mountain cliff, watching Azure Cloud Sword Sect from a distance.
The old man's robes fluttered in the wind.
His eyes, ancient and sharp as drawn blades, remained fixed on Forgotten Sword Peak.
Then, with a faint smile, he whispered,
"So..."
"You've finally found him, Mo Yun."
The path to Forgotten Sword Peak was unlike any other trail within the Azure Cloud Sword Sect.
While the main mountain bustled with disciples practicing sword forms and exchanging techniques, this path had long since been reclaimed by nature. Moss clung to broken stone steps. Ancient pines leaned over the narrow trail, their twisted roots breaking through the weathered rocks.
Not a single disciple could be seen.
The only sounds were the rustling leaves and the distant cries of mountain birds.
Lin Chen climbed steadily, neither hurried nor slow.
As he ascended, he noticed something unusual.
"The spiritual qi here..."
"...is denser."
Not by much.
Perhaps only ten or twenty percent richer than the Outer Sect.
To ordinary disciples, the difference would be insignificant.
To someone cultivating the Voidheart Scripture...
Every thread of spiritual energy mattered.
"Interesting."
"This mountain has been neglected for decades, yet its spiritual veins remain intact."
Someone had deliberately kept people away from this place.
Whether by coincidence or design...
He intended to find out.
Nearly half an hour later, the forest opened into a quiet plateau.
A weathered stone archway stood before him.
The characters engraved upon it had faded with time.
Forgotten Sword Peak.
Beyond the archway lay an old courtyard.
Time had left its mark everywhere.
The flagstones were cracked.
Wildflowers grew between the stones.
Several wooden buildings leaned slightly, their roofs patched countless times.
Yet despite its age...
The place was immaculate.
Not a single fallen leaf remained on the ground.
Someone cared for it every day.
An old man sat beneath a towering pine tree.
A pot of tea rested on a small stone table beside him.
Elder Mo Yun.
He looked up as Lin Chen approached.
"You came."
Lin Chen bowed respectfully.
"You summoned me, Elder."
Mo Yun gestured toward the empty seat opposite him.
"Sit."
Lin Chen obeyed.
For a while...
Neither of them spoke.
The old man poured two cups of tea.
Steam curled lazily into the afternoon air.
Only after taking a slow sip did he finally ask,
"How long have you practiced the sword?"
Lin Chen answered without hesitation.
"Since I was a child."
"A teacher?"
"No."
"I learned by watching."
That wasn't entirely false.
In this life...
Lin Chen had indeed never received formal instruction.
Mo Yun studied him quietly.
His decades of experience told him the young man was concealing something.
Yet he sensed no malice.
Only caution.
"A self-taught swordsman..."
He smiled faintly.
"If that is true..."
"...then Heaven has played a cruel joke on this sect."
Lin Chen remained silent.
Mo Yun stood.
"Walk with me."
They left the courtyard and followed a narrow stone path toward the rear of the peak.
There, surrounded by towering cliffs, stood a lonely pavilion.
Hundreds of swords were planted in the earth around it.
Some were broken.
Others were rusted beyond recognition.
A few had snapped cleanly in half.
The sight reminded Lin Chen of an ancient battlefield.
"So many abandoned swords..."
Mo Yun rested a weathered hand upon one of the hilts.
"They belonged to disciples."
"They came here seeking strength."
"They left behind only regrets."
He looked toward Lin Chen.
"Do you know why this place is called Forgotten Sword Peak?"
Lin Chen shook his head.
"Long ago..."
"This was the heart of the Azure Cloud Sword Sect."
"Our greatest sword cultivators lived here."
"Our founder taught beneath these cliffs."
The old man's voice carried quiet nostalgia.
"But as generations passed..."
"People pursued faster cultivation."
"Power became more important than understanding."
"They chased techniques..."
"...and forgot the sword itself."
His fingers brushed against the rusted blade.
"Eventually..."
"The mountain was abandoned."
"So was its legacy."
Lin Chen's gaze swept across the countless swords.
In every age...
The same story repeated itself.
People sought shortcuts.
Few were willing to master the fundamentals.
Mo Yun suddenly stopped before a stone platform.
At its center rested a plain iron sword.
Unlike the others, it showed no trace of rust.
"This sword has remained here for three hundred years."
"No disciple has drawn it."
Lin Chen looked at it carefully.
There was nothing extraordinary about the weapon.
No powerful aura.
No ancient inscription.
Just...
An ordinary sword.
Mo Yun spoke quietly.
"Draw it."
Several breaths passed.
Lin Chen stepped forward.
Instead of immediately reaching for the hilt, he circled the platform once.
Then again.
Mo Yun watched without interrupting.
Finally, Lin Chen smiled.
"So that's how it is."
He placed his hand upon the hilt.
He did not pull.
Instead...
He bowed.
A gentle breeze swept through the valley.
The iron sword gave a faint hum.
Mo Yun's eyes widened.
"It responded?"
Only then did Lin Chen slowly lift the sword.
There was no resistance.
The blade slid free effortlessly.
A clear sword cry echoed throughout Forgotten Sword Peak.
The countless abandoned swords surrounding the pavilion began to tremble.
One after another...
Soft humming sounds filled the air.
As though they were welcoming an old friend.
Mo Yun stood frozen.
His breathing became unsteady.
Three hundred years.
Three hundred years no one had drawn that sword.
Yet the young man before him had done so with a single respectful bow.
He whispered almost unconsciously,
"You understood..."
Lin Chen lowered the sword.
"It was never testing strength."
"It was waiting for respect."
Silence.
Absolute silence.
Mo Yun closed his eyes.
When he opened them again, the doubt that had lingered since yesterday had vanished.
Before him did not stand an ordinary disciple.
Nor merely a hidden genius.
He stood before someone whose understanding of the Sword Dao surpassed his own by an unimaginable margin.
Yet instead of fear...
He felt relief.
At last...
Forgotten Sword Peak had found hope again.
Far beyond the sect, the mysterious old man standing among the clouds slowly smiled.
"The Sword Heart has awakened..."
"So the wheel of fate begins to turn once more."
Then he took his first step toward the Azure Cloud Sword Sect.
And with it...
The peaceful days of the lower cultivation world quietly came to an end.
- Writer
