Destiny in Cinders

"This is my family's legacy, 'True Spirit Eyes.' Any cultivator with spirit roots of one of the five aspects can master it. It may only be an upper-intermediate technique, but it's the best I can offer."

Nian Quan retrieved two jade slips, one gleaming and new, the other worn smooth by time, and placed them before An Jing. "The spirit light in my eyes is constant and beyond my control, and though it seems my cultivation went awry and deviated, the results are undeniable. I can see past every veil and illusion. Apart from this, I have nothing else of value. If there is anything else here you need, just take it."

"This isn't a deviation but an advancement." An Jing shook his head. He doubted the instructors at Nian Quan's school had missed the evolution of the True Spirit Eyes. More likely, Skysource's instructors simply found such trivialities unworthy of their attention.

"Yvelbane, it looks like we need to incorporate a way to control the spirit eyes."

"That's simple. I wasn't expecting any real benefit out of this," Yvelbane said, "As it happens, I don't possess a spirit eye art in my memories. You should study it when you can, An Jing. It might seem like an ordinary skill, but it's incredibly practical for certain circumstances."

"Please head to your room for some quiet meditation." After accepting both the blank jade slip and the one containing the "True Spirit Eyes" from Nian Quan, An Jing signaled for him to withdraw. Though recording information onto jade wasn't like writing on paper, the process had to be completed without interruption.

Nian Quan nodded and retreated to his own room. As he settled back onto his bed, he realized his limbs were trembling uncontrollably. It was only then that the gravity of his madness struck him.

Nian Quan realized he had invited a complete stranger into his home, a badlander, no less, and bared his soul. He had vented his frustrations about his background and his uncertain future, secrets he had never dared to whisper to another living soul.

He had struck a bargain with a Qi Refinement cultivator who could have crushed his throat with a single hand. More reckless still, he had handed over his family's "True Spirit Eyes," the very treasure his mother had forbidden him from ever giving to an outsider.

He had no idea what the stranger intended to say, yet he had done it anyway. Was it a spiral into self-destruction fueled by grief, a desperate impulse to shatter his chains, or the true face of a boy finally unmasked?

It was unclear. He didn't understand. He didn't know. Yet, Nian Quan felt no regret. Given the choice, he would do it all again without hesitation. He would never let a chance to avenge his mother slip through his fingers! It was a hatred that could span ten lifetimes, demanding vengeance! He might lack everything else, but his patience and perseverance were absolute.

"Just wait, Mother. I'm going to send them all to hell." With that, Nian Quan closed his eyes and sank into a state of tranquility. He began his meditation, surrendering to the rhythm of cultivation.

"Alright."

Nian Quan remained lost in deep cultivation until a voice broke his focus.

"Right down to the last second, but we did it—just as I expected from us!"

Then silence.

"Yvelbane?" Sensing that something was amiss, Nian Quan called out in a low voice. "All done?" He wasn't in a hurry; he only feared "Yvelbane" was in trouble. But there was no reply.

Something felt strange. Nian Quan's brow furrowed as his spirit eyes flashed. To his astonishment, the pure, piercing aura had vanished! He stood up and swung the door open, scanning every inch of the small living room, but it was empty. Despite the sealed windows and undisturbed door, "Yvelbane" had vanished. Even the True Spirit Eyes jade slip was gone, leaving nothing behind but the once-blank slip.

"Gone... just like that?"

Though he found it baffling, Nian Quan understood that the world was full of marvels and abilities beyond his comprehension. He saw no need to pry into their secrets. Moving slowly toward the table, he found the cup empty and the jade slip pulsing with a brilliant, silver-white radiance.

With a slow, steadying breath, Nian Quan raised the jade slip to his forehead and delved into its contents. As his psychic sense plunged into the jade slip, his vision was consumed by a brilliant, pure white.

Before him stood a colossal wall of white jade, where the murky seal script suddenly flickered to life. They swirled and shifted, manifesting first as intricate formation rings before expanding into a vivid landscape of cloud-shrouded cities, soaring mountains, winding rivers, endless plains, dense forests, and sprawling marshes.

The seal script evolved without end, shifting instantaneously to form the azure heavens, the depths of the netherworld, and the ten continents and the boundless expanse of the mortal realm.

As this microcosm took shape, a sudden sound echoed in Nian Quan's ear—the sharp, unmistakable ring of a sword! With that, a sword light, transforming into a celestial torrent that tore through both the sky and netherworld. The truth faded into a line of gold characters.

"Descent to the Netherworld: Sword of Empyreal Mortality."

The firmament above and the netherworld below—two realms of qian and kun. As the celestial torrent plunges down, qian and kun are fixed; the divine sword descends, dividing life from death.

"What in the world... is this?"

Nian Quan's entire body trembled as he gripped the jade slip. With his limited knowledge, he couldn't gauge the exact grade of the sword technique, but he was no fool. If he failed to realize this technique could be used all the way to the Purple Mansion, Goldcore, or higher realms, he would be unworthy of his celestial spirit roots.

The jade slip's poor quality limited the technique to the Foundation Building Realm, but that was no issue. For now, simply reaching Qi Refinement was exactly what he needed.

"Yvelbane... Who exactly are you?"

Astonished, Nian Quan looked up and scanned his surroundings but found no sign of the boy. He had even discovered a method within the slip to forge his spirit eyes with sword intent, a part of the Sword of Empyreal Mortality. This fortuitous encounter left him both amazed and terrified.

What exactly does he want me to do? What is it he expects me to accomplish?

Yvelbane left nothing behind.

After composing himself, Nian Quan sat at the edge of his seat and stared blankly at the empty chair across from him. The person who used to occupy that seat, the one who would serve him meals and worry that he might go hungry, was gone for good.

So that's the truth of it. The celestial torrent plunges down, dividing life and death. I see it now... Yvelbane... Yvelbane...

He understood, if only slightly.

"Is this what you want me to do..." Nian Quan murmured quietly as he raised the jade slip once more. The conflicting emotions on his face slowly gave way to relief, eventually hardening into a look of resolve.

"Truly, this is the will of heaven."

He thought of his father—a simple, silent man. Although death had claimed him before he could truly love him, his father still left an indelible shadow in his heart. The man's surname was Huang. As it happened, Nian Quan's original name... was also Huang Quan.[1]

***

Moments ago, a flash of steel sliced open a dark, silvery spatial rift that An Jing stepped through. Driven by curiosity, he asked Yvelbane, "Descent to the Netherworld: Sword of Empyreal Mortality... That strike... I feel as though I've witnessed it in a dream before. Is it part of a sequence?"

The world he had glimpsed in his dreams, however, was far grander—more whole, and infinitely more breathtaking. That sword strike, which split the nine firmaments and the fiendish sky beyond and tore the cosmos asunder...

Driven by a devout longing for the dao, An Jing asked, "What is the name of that sword technique? Can you teach me?"

"There is no need for me to teach you that move; you've already learned it, and it's far more profound than the orthodox technique I left behind. One day, you will unleash that sword strike. And its name is..." Yvelbane also recalled the sword in An Jing's dream. After a heavy silence, it finally let the answer slip from its lips. "Unsheathe.

"With but three chi of cold steel in hand, one carves away the world's injustices. That is the singular, simple truth of this form. No matter the grievances you harbor or the many techniques you command, all that remains is to... Unsheathe."

1. 黄泉 literally translates to "Yellow Springs" and refers to the netherworld or land of the dead in Chinese mythology. ☜