On the vast Eastern Continent of Gods and Demons, nestled in its southwestern reaches, stood the ancient Divine Moon Peak, a spiritual mountain of unparalleled majesty. Its presence enriched the surrounding hundred miles with a thick concentration of spiritual energy, an area known as the Divine Moon Realm.
Perched atop this sacred peak was the renowned Heavenly Sword Sect, its halls shrouded in perpetual mist and spiritual radiance. Surrounding the central Divine Moon Peak were seven smaller peaks, aligned in the formation of the Big Dipper constellation. Each of these peaks bore the name of a star: Heavenly Pivot, Heavenly Jade, Heavenly Pearl, Heavenly Authority, Jade Cross, Open Sun, and Remote Light.
The seven peaks, each ruled by a powerful Peak Master, formed the sect's outer sanctum. But the Divine Moon Peak itself was the heart of the Heavenly Sword Sect, reserved for only the most gifted disciples. For outsiders, ascending from the outer sanctum to the central sect was the ultimate dream—a testament to unparalleled talent and dedication.
At the Base of Divine Moon Peak
Amidst a lush bamboo forest at the foot of Divine Moon Peak, a lone figure sat cross-legged in silence. This was Nie Feng, a young man of unyielding determination. He stared blankly at the sky, his mind weighed down by yet another failed attempt to break into the Body Tempering Realm.
Ten years. For ten long years, Nie Feng had pushed himself relentlessly, only to fail every time. He had long lost count of how many times he had tried, but each failure deepened the ache in his heart—a mixture of frustration and sorrow.
In that decade, Nie Feng had watched countless younger disciples surpass him, achieving breakthroughs he could only dream of. No matter how hard he worked, he remained stagnant, unable to take the first critical step toward becoming a true cultivator. His inability had turned him into the laughingstock of Divine Moon Peak.
"Why?" Nie Feng muttered, clenching his fists so tightly that his nails dug into his palms. "Why can't I break through? Am I truly without talent? If I can't become a cultivator, who will avenge my family? Who will bring justice to those who were wronged?"
His voice trembled as he gripped the hilt of a heavy sword lying beside him. In a sudden burst of frustration, Nie Feng stood and began swinging the blade with all his might.
The massive sword, nearly as tall as he was, seemed weightless in his hands. Each swing left streaks of gleaming light in the air, and when the blade struck the jade-like bamboo trunks, sparks flew as metallic clangs echoed through the forest. Deep white scars were etched into the bamboo with every strike.
"The Mockery of the Strong"
Nie Feng's solitude was abruptly broken by a sneering voice. "So this is where all that noise is coming from. Who else but our resident failure?"
Nie Feng froze mid-swing, his grip tightening on the hilt of his sword. Turning, he saw three disciples of Divine Moon Peak approaching him, their expressions filled with disdain.
At the front was Senior Brother Zhang, flanked by another male disciple and a younger female disciple, all clad in the moon-white robes of the sect. Their attire, perfectly tailored and spotless, radiated the pride of belonging to one of the most revered sects in the land.
"Senior Brother Zhang, isn't that a bit harsh?" the girl asked softly, glancing hesitantly at Nie Feng.
Zhang smirked, his tone dripping with condescension. "You're new here, Junior Sister Dou, so you don't understand. Let me enlighten you. That guy over there? He's been here for ten years and hasn't even reached the Body Tempering Realm. He's a disgrace to Divine Moon Peak."
The second male disciple chimed in, his voice laced with mockery. "Disgrace? He's dragging us down! If Elder Xiaoyao hadn't brought him here all those years ago, he wouldn't even qualify to scrub floors in the outer sect. What gives him the right to stay on Divine Moon Peak?"
Hearing this, Junior Sister Dou's gaze shifted toward Nie Feng. Pity flickered in her eyes, though she said nothing.
Nie Feng, however, ignored their words entirely. His expression darkened, but he continued practicing his sword forms, each movement precise and unyielding. Over the years, he had grown numb to such taunts. What had once enraged him now barely drew a reaction. Ten years of humiliation had tempered his will far beyond that of his peers.
But Zhang wasn't finished. "You'd think an Elder of the Four Pillars like Xiaoyao would have better judgment. Turns out even elders can have lapses. To think he brought this failure here... what a joke!"
"The Fire Within"
Nie Feng's knuckles turned white as his grip on the sword tightened. Though he outwardly ignored them, his heart burned with fury. Every word was a reminder of his helplessness, his inability to achieve the one thing he needed most—power.
But beneath the anger was a promise. Nie Feng glanced at his reflection in the blade of his sword. His resolve hardened. One day, I'll make them eat their words.
For now, he turned away, focusing on the only thing he could control—his training.