The moon cast a pale light over the grove as Lin Feng stood silently, the Flame Lotus Sword resting against a tree trunk. Its glow was dim, an eerie reminder of its dormant power. The sword had been his companion through countless battles, yet as he gazed at it now, Lin Feng felt only unease.
He knelt before the blade, his head bowed. "You've given me strength, but I've relied on you too much," he murmured. His voice cracked with frustration. "I've let your power shield my weaknesses."
The sword didn't respond, its aura distant and cold.
Lin Feng rose to his feet, determination hardening his expression. "If I am to grow stronger, I must face my flaws. Alone."
With that, he turned and walked away, leaving the Flame Lotus Sword behind.
---
The sect grounds were tranquil, shrouded in the pale mist of early morning. Lin Feng moved purposefully through the stone pathways, his mind clear for the first time in weeks. His defeat against Bai Ren had been humiliating but also enlightening—it had stripped away his illusions, forcing him to confront a bitter truth. Power that wasn't truly his would never carry him to the heights he sought.
He arrived at the sect library, a towering structure filled with countless scrolls, its halls silent except for the occasional rustle of paper. Lin Feng had always thought libraries were the domain of scholars, not warriors. Yet here he was, searching for answers.
Wandering through the aisles, he came upon a dusty section devoted to mortal training methods. His fingers brushed against an old scroll titled The Path of the Mortal Blade. It wasn't flashy or profound, but something about its simplicity intrigued him. He carefully unrolled it, skimming its contents.
"Before reaching for the heavens, one must master the ground beneath their feet. True strength is forged through discipline, precision, and understanding."
The words struck him like a thunderbolt. For years, he had sought shortcuts, hoping for external power to lift him beyond his limits. This text reminded him that no artifact or technique could replace a strong foundation.
He rolled up the scroll and tucked it under his arm.
---
The next morning, Lin Feng began his training in a secluded clearing near the forest's edge. Gone was the gleaming, mystical Flame Lotus Sword. Instead, he carried a plain iron blade from the sect's armory. It was heavy and unbalanced, a far cry from the elegance of his former weapon, but it would suffice.
His routine was grueling. He spent hours repeating basic forms, each swing of the sword slow and deliberate. He focused on precision, ensuring every strike hit its mark. When he wasn't practicing his swordsmanship, he performed physical drills—running laps around the clearing, lifting boulders to build strength, and honing his reflexes by dodging falling branches.
Days turned into weeks, and Lin Feng's body began to change. His arms grew stronger, his movements more fluid. Without the aid of spiritual energy, his reflexes sharpened naturally, forcing him to rely on instinct rather than external crutches.
But it wasn't just his body that transformed. Lin Feng began to understand the rhythm of battle—the way an opponent's stance could betray their next move, the importance of timing and patience.
During his breaks, he would study the scroll he had taken from the library, internalizing its lessons. "A sword is an extension of the self. To wield it without purpose is to flail blindly in the dark."
These words resonated deeply with him. For too long, he had swung his sword out of desperation, hoping sheer force would carry him through. Now, he saw the beauty in precision and control.
---
One afternoon, Lin Feng was practicing his footwork when Bai Ren appeared, his spear slung casually over his shoulder.
"Still training like a mortal?" Bai Ren sneered. His voice was thick with disdain. "You do realize you'll never catch up to me this way, right?"
Lin Feng didn't respond, his focus remaining on his movements.
Annoyed by the lack of acknowledgment, Bai Ren stepped forward. "How about I show you the gap between us? One sparring session. Unless you're scared."
Lin Feng finally looked up, his expression calm. "Fine."
They squared off in the clearing, the iron blade in Lin Feng's hand looking almost pitiful compared to Bai Ren's glowing spear. The contrast didn't escape Bai Ren, who smirked. "Don't say I didn't warn you."
He lunged, his spear striking with blinding speed. But Lin Feng didn't falter. He sidestepped smoothly, redirecting the spear's momentum with a flick of his blade.
Bai Ren attacked again, his strikes growing faster and more aggressive. Yet Lin Feng's movements were fluid, almost effortless. He didn't overpower Bai Ren; he outmaneuvered him, using timing and precision to stay one step ahead.
The fight continued, Bai Ren's frustration mounting with each failed attack. "How?" he growled. "You don't even have your sword!"
"I don't need it," Lin Feng replied evenly, his voice steady despite the strain of battle.
In one swift motion, he disarmed Bai Ren, sending his spear flying. Before Bai Ren could react, Lin Feng brought his blade to a halt inches from his neck.
The clearing was silent except for Bai Ren's labored breathing. He stared at Lin Feng in disbelief.
"You got lucky," Bai Ren muttered, retrieving his spear. "This changes nothing."
Lin Feng didn't reply, watching as Bai Ren stalked off.
---
That night, Lin Feng returned to the grove where he had left the Flame Lotus Sword. It sat exactly where he had left it, its aura faint but steady. He approached cautiously, his steps hesitant.
Sitting down across from the sword, he placed the iron blade beside him. "I've grown stronger without you," he said quietly. "But I know I'm not ready to wield you yet."
The sword didn't respond, but Lin Feng felt a strange sense of understanding pass between them.
For now, he would continue his journey alone.