393: Chapter 393 The First Five Forms of the Nine Forms of Heavenly Sword

He wore a faded grey Daoist robe with frayed cuffs and hem. There was no sword at his waist, yet he gave them the impression of being sharper than any blade.

He sat upon a giant boulder, one foot dangling and swinging casually, as if he weren't in a death-seclusion within the Forbidden Ground of a ten-thousand-year-old sect, but rather sunbathing in his own courtyard.

Elder Li had caught up at some point and stood behind the group, bowing deeply to the old man in a formal salute: "Elder Jian Chen."

Jian Chen. A Nascent Soul Stage Grand Elder of the Heavenly Sword Sect who had been in seclusion for a century.

The group was stunned for a moment before following suit with a bow. Jian Chen waved his hand dismissively: "No need for formalities, I am not your Elder."

His gaze swept over them, pausing briefly on Lin Jingyu before settling on Gao Feng. That gaze lacked warmth, yet it made Gao Feng feel as though he were being seen right through.

“The Sword Intent on your body,” Jian Chen began, “wasn't just cultivated; it was fought for. There are no fewer than dozens of scars on you, and every single one tells the story of what you fight for. A Sword Intent carrying the obsession of protection—very good.”

Gao Feng wanted to say something, but Jian Chen had already looked away, turning to Elder Li: “The later stages don't need to be too harsh. Those who can make it here are not trash.”

Elder Li lowered his head: “Yes, this Disciple understands.”

Jian Chen stood up and drifted down from the boulder. He walked up to Gao Feng and traced a line in the Void Realm with his finger. There was no ripple of spiritual power or sword light, yet Gao Feng clearly saw a sword scar appear in the void.

“I have left a sword scar on the Sword God Platform; it can help you break through the stage.” After saying this, Jian Chen turned and walked toward the depths of the valley.

He did not look back. Their eyes followed his silhouette until it was quickly obscured by rocks and mist.

Elder Li straightened up and said to them, “Elder Jian Chen has been in seclusion for a hundred years and has never left the valley. You are the first to make him break that rule.” He glanced at Gao Feng, then at Lin Jingyu. “Rest for the night. Tomorrow is the fifth stage.”

With that, he also turned and departed.

On the bluestone path, the setting sun stretched their shadows long.

Lin Yue patted Lin Jingyu’s shoulder: “You’re the protagonist today. Twelve tablets by yourself—impressive.”

Lin Jingyu didn't smile; he just stared into the distance. He said, “It wasn't twelve tablets. It was the thirty-five forms those thirty-five people taught me, combined with my own sword, that fused into that final strike. Without all of you, I couldn't have opened the last tablet alone.”

Chu Lan whispered, “We didn't really help much...”

Luo Li interrupted her softly, “We did. Everyone helped in their own way. Chu Lan’s Memory Vines recorded the spiritual power fluctuations, Tianxin’s Talismans deduced the variations of the sword moves, Su Ning’s spatial techniques analyzed the structure, Yaoguang’s healing kept us from collapsing, Lin Yue’s guarding allowed us to comprehend in peace, and Gao Feng—he used War Gods Unity to help me clarify my Sword Intent and allowed Jingyu to clear the final tablet.”

She paused: “We are in this together.”

Lin Yue grinned: “Let’s go back and eat. I’m starving.”

The group walked toward the guest house together.

Gao Feng walked at the very back. He reached into his sleeve to touch the warm Profound Heaven Token, then touched the heart sound talisman Tianxin had given him, before letting go and quickening his pace to catch up.

That night, the moon was bright and stars were few outside the guest house.

Gao Feng sat cross-legged on his bed, the Sword Intent within him not yet fully settled. The thirty-six sword moves from the Sword Tablet Forest circled in his Sea of Consciousness like thirty-six longswords rotating around a bright moon, sometimes converging and sometimes scattering. He closed his eyes and focused, using the will of War Gods Unity to organize them one by one.

Suddenly, a very light sound of footsteps came from outside the door.

“Senior Brother Gao Feng, it’s me,” came Lin Jingyu’s voice.

Gao Feng opened his eyes: “Come in.”

Lin Jingyu pushed the door open, followed by Situ Lan. Both looked solemn, as if they weren't just there for small talk.

“Elder Jian Chen sent someone with a message for you to go see him,” Lin Jingyu said. “Go alone.”

Gao Feng frowned slightly: “Now?”

“Now. The one who brought the message was Elder Li’s Disciple. He said Elder Jian Chen is waiting for you at the stone pavilion at the end of the Tablet Forest.”

Gao Feng stood up and hung his vajra sword at his waist. Situ Lan looked at him, hesitating to speak.

“Speak your mind,” Gao Feng said.

Situ Lan was silent for a moment before saying, “Elder Jian Chen has not seen guests for a hundred years. Appearing in the Tablet Forest today was already an exception, and now he’s actively summoned you... I’m not sure what he intends, but since he specifically asked for you to go alone, there should be no ill intent.”

Gao Feng nodded and pushed the door open.

Late at night, the bluestone path was deserted. The stone sword tablets on both sides cast heavy shadows under the moonlight. The residual Sword Intent within the tablets was more active than during the day, occasionally leaking a trace like a cold blade caught in the night wind. Gao Feng didn't walk fast, but his steps were steady.

The stone pavilion at the end of the Sword Tablet Forest was unlit. Moonlight spilled over the roof, casting a clear glow on the stone steps.

Elder Jian Chen was still wearing that faded grey Daoist robe, sitting on a stone stool in the pavilion. A teapot sat on the stone table in front of him, steam curling from the spout, looking particularly out of place in the silent dead of night.

“You’re here,” Jian Chen said without looking up. “Sit.”

Gao Feng walked quickly into the pavilion and sat opposite Jian Chen. There was only one cup next to the teapot, and Jian Chen poured him half a cup. The tea was extremely pale, almost transparent, yet it emitted a crisp, clear fragrance.

“This is ‘Sword Heart Tea,’ roasted from an ancient tea tree on my Sword Peak. Only a single tael is produced every hundred years.” Jian Chen pushed the cup toward him. “Drink it. It will make your Divine Sense more sensitive and your perception of Sword Intent clearer.”

Gao Feng picked up the cup and drained it in one gulp. The tea was warm, and the moment it hit his throat, it turned into a surge of clear Qi that rushed straight into his Sea of Consciousness. His Divine Sense felt as if it had been washed with pure water, becoming exceptionally sharp; he could capture every tiny fluctuation of Sword Intent around him. Even the dormant Sword Intent in the distant stone tablets awakened for a fleeting moment in his perception.

“Good tea.” He set the cup down.

Jian Chen smiled, though the expression looked somewhat strange on his withered face: “Aren't you afraid I’d poison you?”

“If you wanted to harm me, you could have acted in the Tablet Forest. A Nascent Soul Stage against a Golden Core Stage doesn't need to resort to poison.” Gao Feng’s tone was calm, not as a compliment, but simply stating a fact.

Jian Chen nodded and pulled back his smile. He extended his right hand, palm up. A faint bluish-white light rose from his palm; it was so dim that it would have been nearly invisible if not for the darkness. Within the light, there was a faint humanoid phantom. The figure was blurred and its face was indiscernible, yet an ancient and profound Sword Intent radiated from it.

That Sword Intent was different from any other in the Sword Tablet Forest. It wasn't sharp or domineering; it was quiet and distant, like a solitary star hanging in the night sky.

Gao Feng felt the vajra sword at his waist hum softly.

“This is a wisp of the remnant soul of my ancestor, the Seven Star Sword God.” Jian Chen’s voice sounded exceptionally low in the night wind. “Before the ancestor ascended, he sealed a strand of Sword Intent within his descendants, passed down through the generations. By the time it reached me, ten thousand years had passed. The remnant soul is getting weaker; in a few more decades, it will completely dissipate.”

Gao Feng did not interrupt, listening quietly.

Jian Chen continued, “I am not the Sect Master of the Heavenly Sword Sect, nor am I an Elder; I am merely a gatekeeper guarding this remnant soul. My seclusion a hundred years ago wasn't for cultivation, but to slow the dissipation of the remnant soul. But some things cannot be stopped.”

He looked up, his eyes, which had been like dried wells, now exceptionally bright: “Today in the Tablet Forest, the Sword Intent I saw on you reminded me of an ancient Sword Dao recorded in the ancestor’s notes—a Sword Dao based on the obsession to protect. This kind of Sword Dao doesn't rely on talent or Legacy, but on conviction. The Disciples of the Heavenly Sword Sect spend their lives practicing the sword, seeking ‘sharpness,’ ‘speed,’ and ‘destruction.’ But you are the first to seek ‘protection.’”

Gao Feng was silent for a moment: “I just don't want the people around me to get hurt.”

“That is ‘protection,’” Jian Chen said. “It is harder than ‘destruction.’ Because destruction only requires the sword to be fast and ruthless enough, but protection requires knowing when to block, when to retreat, and when to use your own body to endure. Those words of yours—‘don't want the people around me to get hurt’—of the thirty thousand Disciples in the Heavenly Sword Sect, very few truly understand them.”

He raised his palm slightly, and the bluish-white light rose a bit higher. The phantom of the remnant soul flickered in the night wind like a candle flame that could go out at any moment.

“I will pass the Sword Intent from the ancestor’s remnant soul to you and teach you the first five forms of the ‘Nine Styles of Heavenly Sword.’ It is not the complete Legacy, but it will be enough for you to pass the ninth stage’s Sword God Platform. You need to accept this Sword Intent with your Divine Sense. The process will be very painful; you can stop if you can't endure it.” Jian Chen looked at him. “Are you willing?”

Gao Feng did not hesitate: “I am.”

Jian Chen pressed his palm onto the top of Gao Feng’s head.

In that instant, Gao Feng felt as if his entire being had been thrown into a void. There was no up, down, left, or right in the void, only countless sword lights streaking past like meteors. Those sword lights were too fast—so fast he couldn't see their trajectories at all—he only felt sharp bursts of Sword Intent piercing through his Divine Sense like ten thousand arrows through the heart.

He grit his teeth, refusing to let himself faint. The Star Battle Body automatically activated within him, golden light enveloping his Physical Body, but the Sword Intent was attacking his Divine Sense; his physical defense was almost useless.

Jian Chen’s voice echoed in his Sea of Consciousness: “Guard your mind. These Sword Intents were left by my ancestor; they won't truly harm you, but you must endure them to comprehend them.”

Gao Feng’s consciousness drifted in the sword light for an unknown amount of time—perhaps hours, perhaps days. He felt like a piece of iron being forged, and those sword lights were the hammers. Every time one passed through his Divine Sense, it left an imprint on his consciousness. Those imprints weren't words or diagrams, but an instinctive, intuitive sense of the sword.

The first form, the opening stance: ‘Sword Heart Clear and Bright.’

The second form, the offensive stance: ‘Sword Piercing the Vast Sky.’

The third form, the defensive stance: ‘Sword Guarding the Four Directions.’

The fourth form, the fluid stance: ‘Sword Moving with the Heart.’

The fifth form, the unity stance: ‘Unity of Man and Sword.’