Wandao 021
As dusk descended and the twilight deepened, the forest whispered with the susurrus of beasts and the stridulation of insects. Wan Xiaochuan and Lin Qixian, bloodstained and breath unsteady, had narrowly escaped the encirclement of a rampaging spirit-beast horde. Now, they found precarious refuge within a secluded mountain cavern. The air inside was damp and cool; the stone walls exuded a faint phosphorescence, while the wind that filtered through the entrance carried the earthy tang of soil mingled with the scent of wet grass.
Silence reigned within, punctuated only by the occasional crackle of fire. Lin Qixian sat cross-legged against the cavern wall, cultivating his breath. His pouch of spirit insects swelled faintly as several Qingli locusts lay dormant within—submerged in a state of suspended maturation. Though visibly fatigued, Lin Qixian's gaze remained intent, observing the insects' condition meticulously. In a low voice, he murmured, "These Qingli have stabilized. Within three days, once the inner elixir is formed, you may bind them with a blood pact. They will resonate with your mind and will."
Meanwhile, Wan Xiaochuan sat quietly beside the fire, his right hand resting upon the wind-and-thunder sword at his waist. From his robe, he slowly drew out the Wind and Thunder Spirit Pearl—an artifact he had obtained at the auction. The pearl emitted a soft azure glow that pulsed in resonance with the sword, causing the blade to hum faintly.
Closing his eyes, he began channeling his qi. Pressing the spirit pearl against the sword's spine, he felt a current of cool lightning trickle down its length and flow into his dantian. There, a nascent cyclone of wind and thunder qi began to coalesce, faint yet stable. He could sense his affinity with both elements deepen, the circulation of his Wind and Thunder Codex becoming increasingly fluent.
But at that moment, the wind-and-thunder sword emitted a resonant chime. A silvery-blue sword shadow arose from the blade, gradually solidifying into the ethereal form of a young woman—the sword spirit, Renee.
She was clad in a gown of moonlit gossamer, her figure graceful and weightless, skin as pale as snow, eyes like starlit skies. Though her expression bore a trace of solemnity, there lingered an irrepressible playfulness beneath.
"Xiaochuan," she spoke with a voice both lilting and chiding, "Your spiritual flow just now lacked stability. Had I not intervened in time, you'd have veered into qi deviation."
Wan Xiaochuan offered a wry smile. "Thank you for your intercession. This spirit pearl—it may be tied to your origin. Might it awaken deeper memories within you?"
Renee lifted her hand gently, a stream of light flowing from her palm. Intricate runes on the blade ignited in response, forming a complex array of wind and thunder sigils that shimmered in synchronized rhythm. Her voice became hushed, almost wistful: "Within this pearl… lies a remnant soul, or perhaps… the memories of someone named Huayue—she and I are of the same source, yet we are not one and the same…"
Her tone grew otherworldly, detached, as though slipping into a forgotten chasm of memory. A faint crease formed between her brows, her gaze veiled in pain and disorientation.
Wan Xiaochuan moved to speak, but in that instant, Renee's aura underwent a drastic upheaval. A glacial, moonlit force surged from her body—cold and incisive—causing the fire to dim, the cavern's warmth to plummet.
"She is awakening… I, Huayue…" Renee's lips parted, and her voice bifurcated—one retained the coquettish lightness of before, the other reverberated with an ancient, glacial cadence, as though echoing from across millennia.
Stunned, Wan Xiaochuan watched as her spiritual presence split in two. One form retained Renee's original elegance and levity, while the other manifested as a colder, more imposing apparition—identical in appearance, yet marked by a sovereign frigidity in her brow.
The apparition's gaze bore into him, her voice as cutting as the winter wind: "You… are my new master? No. You are far too feeble to wield me."
Renee stepped protectively before Wan Xiaochuan, her eyes steeled. "Huayue, I am the current spirit sovereign of this sword. I will not permit you to destabilize its core."
With that, their spiritual essences clashed—the cavern surged with crackling lightning and slashing winds. Wan Xiaochuan felt the very air tear around him, his meridians stinging from the intensity. He hastily assumed a meditative posture, infusing his consciousness into the sword to stabilize its core.
"Enough!" he bellowed, his spirit resonating through the blade. A burst of thunderous light erupted, striking the phantom directly. She reeled backward, her form flickering.
Renee turned toward him, her expression softened, touched by something deeper. "You shielded me… with your soul?"
"You are my sword spirit," Wan Xiaochuan replied with unwavering resolve. "How could I watch idly while you suffered?"
The phantom paused, scrutinizing the two. At last, she inclined her head slightly. "I shall observe you. Should you prove worthy… perhaps I will awaken again."
With those words, the shadow dissipated into the sword. The radiance receded; tranquility returned.
Lin Qixian opened his eyes just then, astonishment etched across his face. "That… just now—your sword contains… twin spirits?"
Wan Xiaochuan nodded faintly, gazing down at the wind-and-thunder sword in his grip. Its engravings of wind and lightning now shimmered with renewed lucidity, as if the soul dwelling within had grown in dimension.
He knew this resonance had not merely forged a deeper bond between him and Renee, but had also beckoned the awareness of a formidable entity—one whose judgment might soon determine his destiny.
The Wind and Thunder Sword would no longer be a mere weapon. From this moment forth, its fate and his were irrevocably entwined.