AI Cultivation: Reborn as a Sword

The figure wears a pristine white dress with off-the-shoulders sleeves that conceal her hands. Her sword, now sheathed, is tucked into her sash, and her heels click on the marble floor as she leads the way forward.

They don’t walk for too long before they reach a crossroads in the path, and then turn left and further into the structure. Several doors now appear on the sides of the hallway, leading to different rooms of various sizes. The rooms look like living spaces to me, with beds, chairs, and other furniture convenient for cultivation.

The rooms are extremely ascetic and bare-bones. Other than a mirror, in each room, there is nothing else to fill up the room. At first, I consider this to be such a case because the rooms appear to be vacant, but then I notice a few rooms that have been lived in, but they also do not have any decorations.

If I needed any more evidence that this is indeed a sword cultivator retreat, then this would be the clearest sign of such.

Eventually, they reach a large hall at the end of the corridor, much like the hall of the Seventh Palace that Elder Qin presides over, but much smaller.

Four columns on each side with curtains draped between them line the sides of the hall, and some thirty steps ahead, a woman waits. On the floor, in the center of the hall, a large yin and yang symbol has been constructed into the floor, out of black and white stone.

“Huaming, why did you bring the intruders here?” the woman asks as she turns toward the approaching group. She wears the same dress as Huaming and is similar in appearance, except that her black hair is longer, and her eyes are steel-grey, and not blue.

“Master,” You Huaming says, cupping her fist and bowing. “They were sent by Fairy Snow. They even carry the clan symbol.”

Seeing You Huaming cup her fist and address the other person as Master, the two follow suit and similarly show their respect to the elder of the Heavenly Sword Villa.

“Is that so?” the woman asks, seemingly disinterested in the two. “Huaming, you may return to your cultivation. I will deal with this.”

“Yes, Master,” You Huaming says and bows once more. Without speaking another word, she returns the way they came and disappears into the hallways beyond.

As several seconds pass in silence, Lan Xiaohui finally decides to speak. “Esteemed senior, Lady Feixue has instructed us to come here, but she did not tell us why or what for. She has pointed out that we are not qualified to join the Heavenly Sword Villa, but still bid us to come here, in order to receive the ability to compete in the upcoming Sky Continent Martial Conference.”

“Is that so?” the woman asks again, with the same tone and the same inflection, still seemingly not interested in the two.

Lan Xiaohui looks at Wu Yulan and the two exchange confused glances.

Several more seconds pass in silence.

“Senior, this one’s name is Zhu Xuelian. My companion is Wu Yulan. May we learn your honorable name, Senior?”

“You Wulei,” the woman responds in the same manner as before.

The name shocks Wu Yulan and Lan Xiaohui. It is certain that they have never heard of this person before, but the meaning of the name, and this woman’s demeanor, is enough to chill their hearts to the core.

Wulei. No tears. The sword is emotionless and it sheds no tears over the lives it robs; not that of the enemy, nor the lives of friends and family. It is a heartless name, befitting a heartless person.

Wulei’s cultivation is immeasurable to me and just like with Huaming, I sense no aura from this person. However, even though I do not have a nose, I can certainly smell the blood on this person’s hands. I am certain that in the world of cultivators, there are such entities that are executioners to punish the wicked, and You Wulei may just be such a person.

Perhaps this thought occurs to Wu Yulan and Lan Xiaohui as well because they immediately become uneasy.

“Senior, we are eternally grateful for being able to witness the splendor of the Heavenly Sword Villa, but we have no desire to intrude on your presence or to dishonor your halls with our shallow roots,” Lan Xiaohui says, referring to their unimpressive — by comparison — cultivation as ‘shallow roots’. “We do not know for what purpose we are here, and we do not dare to —“

Before she can finish, You Wulei interrupts them. “Shallow roots, yet fierce lotuses and gentle orchids.”

She says this almost like it is an idiom to reference the lotus and orchid in their names and to imply that their roots are irrelevant.

“You wish for the strength to compete in the Martial Conference?” You Wulei asks, for once, directly looking at them.

Lan Xiaohui raises her head slightly to look at You Wulei. “Yes, Senior,” she says, tone hesitant.

“Very well,” You Wulei says, nodding. “Since Sister Feixue has sent you here, she must’ve deemed you worthy enough to give you an opportunity to prove yourself.”

You Wulei beckons with a motion of her finger, and it is not just a gesture, but it is also accompanied by an extreme sword force that pulls the two forward.

Unable and unwilling to disobey this wordless order, the two begin walking forward, following You Wulei to the left side of the hall, and past the curtains.

A simple mirror waits beyond the curtains, but it does not reflect the hall. Rather, it is more like a window into a different place. It is a mountain covered in snow, with hail and snow pelting so thick that it makes it difficult to see anything.

“This is the Perilous Sword Valley,” You Wulei says, pointing to the mirror. “Here, we send promising candidates who have just entered the Heavenly Sword Villa to sharpen their minds and swords.”

Lan Xiaohui and Wu Yulan stare at the mirror for several seconds, before looking at You Wulei.

“This place is essential for us to achieve unity of mind and soul with our swords, and to comprehend the Sword Law,” You Wulei continues. “For you, it might be difficult to accomplish any of these things.”

“Senior?” Lan Xiaohui asks, staring at the other woman. “Then why are you showing this to us?”

Lan Xiaohui’s heart is beating faster and faster, and she is not the only one who finds You Wulei’s words extremely alarming.

Even through the mirror, they can feel the extreme sword force inside that snow and rain — the very environment itself like a sharpened sword that could sever them from life as easily as it is for the sun to rise over the mountains.

Yet, even by You Wulei’s words, achieving a deep level of unity, or further comprehending the Sword Law might not be possible for the current Lan Xiaohui and Wu Yulan — meaning, this place is likely intended for cultivators of a higher cultivation realm.

“You do not have to accomplish any of these things, neither are you newly-entered disciples of the Heavenly Sword Villa,” You Wulei says, expression neutral. “However, if you can return from this place alive, you will certainly make sufficient progress in your cultivation. Martial Conference? Even I would be curious enough to see what you could accomplish.”

You Wulei turns toward the two now and smiles darkly. “If you can return alive,” she repeats the most important phrase in her explanation and then gestures with her hand once more.

The same kind of auraless sword force coalesces around the two and throws them toward the mirror. Instead of smashing into glass and silver, they pass through the mirror and plummet from the sky toward the snow-covered ground.

They don’t even have an opportunity to object, much less decline this training method.