A vast surge of sword energy radiates from the depths of the wreckage, its dazzling brilliance illuminating the ruins.
The sheer intensity of the sword qi is overwhelming—most warriors wouldn't dare to approach. Even a powerhouse at the Extreme God Realm would hesitate.
But for Ling Ye, it is nothing.
Zhuge Qingchan stands frozen in shock. The massive formation before her fills her entire field of vision, stretching endlessly across the ruins.
"Could this be… the place where the Sword Goddess fought you?" she asks, her voice laced with awe.
There isn't a soul who doesn't know of that battle.
She has read about it in ancient texts—the legendary duel that shook the universe.
It was called a once-in-ten-thousand-years clash between titans. A battle between Extreme Gods, a spectacle rarely witnessed in any age.
But why has Ling Ye come here now?
Ling Ye remains silent, his gaze locked onto the deepest part of the sword formation.
There, a solitary figure sits cross-legged.
She is dressed in white—her robes, her flowing hair, everything about her is pure and colorless.
A cold, lonely beauty.
A black cloth covers her eyes, and she sits in complete stillness. No one knows how many years she has remained like this.
She is like a relic of the past, shrouded in dust and time. Lonely, like the wreckage drifting through the sky.
Before her, a sword hovers—no, not a sword, but a wooden stick.
A long, straight plank, cut into the shape of a blade.
No edge, no point.
Ordinary at first glance.
And yet, this unassuming piece of wood once swept through the heavens and countless worlds, nearly unstoppable.
This stick is the First Sword of the Heavens.
And the woman in white—she is none other than the legendary Sword Goddess, Shan Jianyu.
"That… is that really the Sword Goddess Jianyu?" Zhuge Qingchan breathes. "She looks… so heavy."
She stares at the woman within the sword formation, and an inexplicable weight presses upon her chest.
The first impression she gets from Jianyu is that of stillness.
Still and deep, like a stagnant pool of water.
She sits there, unmoving, as if she belongs to the wreckage of the world itself—merged with it, lost to time.
It feels as though nothing in the heavens or the myriad worlds matters to her anymore.
As if she has become part of this ruin.
Ling Ye does not speak. He simply waves his hand, producing a wine gourd.
"I'm returning what belongs to you."
With that, he tosses the gourd toward the silent woman.
For centuries, she has sat there, unmoving.
But as the wine gourd approaches, she finally raises her hand—catching it effortlessly.
"…A thousand years."
A voice, distant and hollow, escapes her lips.
She has been here, sealed away, for a thousand years.
And she was the one who sealed herself.
Once, she was unrivaled in the way of the sword.
Then, she met Ling Ye—and she lost.
For the first time, she had an opponent.
So, she sealed herself away, seeking to break past her limits.
Seeking a higher realm of the sword.
"You shouldn't have come to see a loser." Her voice is emotionless, like still water.
She uncorks the gourd and takes a slow sip of the liquor within.
"I've lost count of how many people have fallen before me," Ling Ye says with a faint smile.
"But only a few are worth remembering."
"So," Jianyu replies coldly, "being remembered by you is supposed to be an honor?"
Ling Ye chuckles. "Back then, you made a promise. Whoever could defeat you… could ask anything of you."
This was the oath Jianyu had made long ago.
Throughout the heavens, she had declared that if anyone could best her in battle, she would do whatever they asked.
Anything. Right or wrong.
Back then, her sword was known as invincible.
She had fought tirelessly, always searching for someone who could defeat her.
Then, she met Ling Ye.
And she lost.
Badly.
Defeated so effortlessly, so completely, that there was no room for doubt.
That day, Ling Ye took her wine gourd—as proof of his victory.
Now, he has returned it.
And now, it is time for Jianyu to fulfill her promise.
"You—someone like you—actually needs me?" Jianyu asks, a hint of curiosity in her voice.
Who is Ling Ye?
He is invincible.
She has traveled across countless worlds, met countless warriors.
But only he—only Ling Ye—has given her a true sense of invincibility.
Invincibility is not a matter of power alone.
It is a presence.
A feeling.
She has watched countless so-called geniuses rise and fall.
She saw Ye Tian climb from obscurity to become a ruler of the world.
But in the end, those prodigies—those so-called legends—were nothing more than passing sparks.
She has seen too many of them.
Only Ling Ye stands apart.
It is as if, from the very beginning, he was always meant to stand at the peak.
Through countless eras, he remains unshaken, undefeated, untouchable.
He is always at the top.
He alone has truly conquered the heavens and dictated the fate of all things.
The universe is filled with rising stars—countless talents vying for dominance.
But among them all, only one being was born invincible.
The Demon Lord.
Ling Ye.