AI Cultivation: Reborn as a Sword

Unlike Lan Xiaohui, it is impossible for me to forget information once I have obtained it. The name Tian Xing may be unfamiliar to her, but to me, it immediately conjures recognition.

When the Elders announced the Pagoda of Introspection event, several geniuses declared their intentions to participate in the event, even though they did not have to.

Tian Xing was one of these geniuses, from the Nine Clouds sect.

However, what his connection to Lan Xiaohui is, I do not know. To be safe, I query my subconscious to obtain any relevant information I may have learned through [Nooparallelism] and the answer comes to me immediately.

Of the many geniuses that participated in the Pagoda of Introspection, only one of them had an unexpected result and was ejected from the Pagoda after having only passed four floors.

It was Tian Xing.

“Listen to this,” the man shouts to the crowd as he approaches, pointing a finger at Lan Xiaohui. “This rogue trash passes only six floors of the Pagoda and is allowed to join the sect, but I, a core disciple of the Nine Clouds sect, am not allowed to even compete in the tournament.”

He is not alone — behind him is a man wearing Galaxy Sword sect robes, with long black hair and nodding along to Tian Xing’s words.

In terms of cultivation, Tian Xing is in the early Core Formation realm, while his companion is in the mid Core Formation realm.

“How is this fair?” Tian Xing asks and then glares at Lan Xiaohui.

Still, Lan Xiaohui won’t even look at him, and her heart grows only more sinister as she is further insulted.

Wu Yulan narrows her eyes, equally as offended as Lan Xiaohui. “You could not even pass the fifth floor of the Pagoda, that is why you are not allowed to compete. The rules are clear on this: Five floors are the minimum,” she says. “So, who are you calling trash?”

“I wasn’t speaking to you,” Tian Xing says dismissively. “Who even are you?”

“I am Wu Yulan!” Wu Yulan instantly replies.

“Ah, yes, of course!” Tian Xing exclaims, once more animated. “It is because of your achievement that Zhu Xuelian managed to beg her way into the sect, when it is clear that you somehow cheated!”

“How…?” Wu Yulan is so infuriated by these words that she cannot even finish her question.

“Will you deny it, Zhu Xuelian?” Tian Xing asks, glaring at my owner once more.

“The affairs of the sect are for the Elders to decide and have nothing to do with me,” Lan Xiaohui says. “If you have a problem with the decision the Elders made, take it up with them.”

This answer — which is reasonable and correct — only serves to infuriate Tian Xing more. “So you do not deny it?” Tian Xing shouts.

“Are you deaf?” Lan Xiaohui asks and finally looks at Tian Xing. “I have done nothing to you. Until now, I did not even know you existed. I am becoming tired of being insulted and shouted at. If you continue, I won’t be polite.”

The look in Lan Xiaohui’s eyes is so fierce that even the nearby disciples feel uncomfortable. Had this Tian Xing been suitable for the sword and passed a few more floors of the Pagoda of Introspection, perhaps he would be able to understand what a sword cultivator is, and what the consequences of insulting one are.

To Tian Xing, that look in Lan Xiaohui’s eyes must seem like defiance for the sake of defiance or any other number of things that disagree with him.

“Zhu Xuelian,” Tian Xing says, and for once, his words are a whisper — a sinister whisper. “I cannot stand your existence. It offends me. You just standing there insults me. I cannot let it be.”

“Is that so?” Lan Xiaohui asks, turning towards Tian Xing.

“I will teach you what happens when you try to cheat and lie your way into the sect,” Tian Xing says, drawing a thin, light-blue-metal sword from his storage ring. “Your spot in the sect should belong to me!”

It is fascinating to me that this creature can experience such cognitive errors to drive itself into a position where everything it sees is an illusion. What does this Tian Xing see in Lan Xiaohui, if not a brandished sword that will sever him from this life?

Without further word or warning, Tian Xing swings his sword at Lan Xiaohui and this attack is in no way meant to lightly injure my owner. It is an attack with fatal intentions.

However, Lan Xiaohui swings the back of her left fist into the blade and strikes the blade so hard that the metal wobbles, and then flies out of Tian Xing’s hand and onto the floor where it scrapes the pavement and bounces several times before coming to a stop.

The back of Lan Xiaohui’s hand does not have even a single mark of where it touched the sharp blade.

Tian Xing’s expression is one of confusion. He looks at his hand as if trying to identify the problem of why he failed to cut Lan Xiaohui, or how he managed to lose his sword.

Not wasting another moment, Lan Xiaohui swings with her left hand again and crashes the back of her fist into Tian Xing’s jaw, and sends him sprawling to the ground, a broken tooth coming loose as a result of the impact and tumbling further away.

Lan Xiaohui narrows her eyes at the fallen Tian Xing. “Thank you for the lesson,” she says with that same scornful tone.

At this, Tian Xing’s companion steps forward. “I have just witnessed you assault and humiliate my junior in front of all these people,” he says. “As someone who came from the same Nine Clouds sect, I cannot overlook this matter.”

Lan Xiaohui looks at the man in the Galaxy Sword sect robes and though at first I sense great confusion and disbelief in her heart at the idea that she assaulted Tian Xing, it lasts for only a brief moment before she responds with a chuckle.

By now, a large crowd has begun to gather and many of the assembling disciples — both from within and outside the sect — regard Lan Xiaohui coldly, but there are also some among them that also do not agree with the man’s words.

“What is so funny?” the man asks.

“I am just grateful to senior brother for coming here to personally uphold the honor of his Nine Clouds sect and to teach me the value of loyalty and justice,” Lan Xiaohui says with a surprising tone of respectfulness. “I cannot help but look up to my senior brother’s virtuous ways.”

The man smiles darkly, well aware of Lan Xiaohui’s sarcasm despite its absence in her tone, and slowly draws his sword from his storage device — also a light blue metal weapon like Tian Xing’s. “You are brave, Zhu Xuelian, and I respect that. However, unlike my junior who has only recently entered the Core Formation realm and is therefore still weak from the ordeal, you will find me to be an insurmountable obstacle. Your path ends here with me, Wei Sheng. Out of consideration, I will let you choose how it ends: withdraw from the sect, or die.”

Wu Yulan frowns at Wei Sheng’s words and as she turns to look at Lan Xiaohui, all she sees is my owner flitting forward, like a shadow smeared across her perception.