Part 1 :

The day had begun like any other at the Heavenly Sword Sect. The sun was casting its golden rays over the ancient halls and sprawling courtyards, illuminating the sect with a serene beauty. Guards stood lazily at their posts, half-heartedly scanning the horizon, their attention dulled by the years of peace and the comfort of their routine. The idea of a threat seemed almost laughable. Who would dare challenge the might of the Heavenly Sword Sect?

One of the guards, a young man with a hint of stubble and a casual demeanor, lifted a simple telescope to his eye. He did this more out of habit than necessity, his mind wandering as he lazily swept the horizon. But then something unusual caught his attention—a tiny black dot moving against the clear blue sky.

"What's that?" he muttered to himself, squinting as he tried to focus on the distant speck. He adjusted the lens, and the black dot began to grow larger, moving at an alarming speed. The guard's heart began to race as the realization set in—whatever it was, it was heading directly toward the sect.

"Hey, come look at this!" the young guard called out to his companion, his voice tinged with sudden urgency.

An older guard, grizzled and more seasoned, walked over, a skeptical frown on his face. He took the telescope from the younger man and peered through it. For a moment, he said nothing, his expression frozen in disbelief. The black dot had taken shape, becoming the unmistakable figure of a man flying through the sky with an unnatural swiftness and power.

The older guard's face went pale. His hands began to tremble as he lowered the telescope. "No… It can't be. Not him. Not now."

The younger guard's confusion turned to concern. "Who? Who is it?"

"It's Him," the older guard whispered, his voice barely audible. "The one who defeated the Empyrean ancestors, who shook the Vast Sky Continent. If he’s coming here…"

The weight of those words hung heavy in the air, and a cold dread settled over the guards. There was no time to waste.

"We need to alert the elders! Now!" the older guard barked, snapping out of his trance.

The two guards sprang into action, sprinting through the stone corridors of the sect, their boots slapping against the ground as they shouted warnings to everyone they passed. Panic spread like wildfire. Disciples and lower-ranked sect members exchanged fearful glances, their conversations turning into frantic whispers.

When the message finally reached the inner sanctum, the elders were already gathering, drawn by the palpable tension that had gripped the sect. The grand hall, usually a place of calm and contemplation, was now filled with a growing sense of unease.

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"He’s come back," one elder murmured, his voice trembling. "Why now? After all these years… Could he be here to destroy us?"

Another elder shook his head, though the fear in his eyes betrayed his words. "The Heavenly Sword Sect might not survive this day."

The elders exchanged worried glances, their minds racing with possibilities, none of them good. But before they could discuss further, a profound silence fell over the hall. It was as if the very air had been sucked out of the room, leaving only a suffocating stillness in its place.

Wang Tian had arrived.

His presence was felt before he was even seen. The disciples outside the hall, who had been murmuring in confusion and fear, suddenly dropped to their knees, their heads bowed low. The sheer weight of his aura was enough to subdue them and remind them of their insignificance in the face of such power.

The massive doors of the grand hall creaked open, and there he stood—Wang Tian, the man whose name resounded in the whole Vast Sky Continent like thunder. His attire was simple—black robes that flowed like liquid night around him, unmarred by the blood of his enemies. His face was a mask of impassive determination and his sharp and unfathomable eyes surveyed the hall with a calm that was almost chilling. His figure was imposing, radiating an aura that seemed to bend the very space around him. The Heavenly Sword Sect's disciples could not help but feel a mix of reverence and terror.

The elders, despite their fear, moved to greet him, but their legs felt like lead. They, too, bowed deeply, their heads nearly touching the ground. The hall, once filled with anxious whispers, was now consumed by an eerie silence, broken only by the sound of Wang Tian’s footsteps as he approached the First Ancestor's statue, undeterred by the kneeling masses.

His eyes were focused on one thing: the statue of the first ancestor of the Heavenly Sword Sect, Sky Sword Lu Jing, standing tall in the courtyard’s center. He stopped before it, his expression unreadable as he gazed up at the statue.

In that moment, memories of his past washed over him—of the time when he was a mere disciple, insignificant and powerless. But those were memories of a different time, a different Wang Tian. Now, he stood as the one who could bring the sect to the brink of oblivion with a single finger. As he stood there, the hall seemed to tremble with the weight of his presence, and the entire sect held its breath, waiting for his next move.

.....

The atmosphere in the courtyard was thick with tension as Wang Tian stood before the statue of the first ancestor. The silence was profound; the disciples and elders were still kneeling in awe and fear. Then, from the depths of the sect, a figure emerged—Jing Yu, the revered ancestor of the Heavenly Sword Sect.

Jing Yu's appearance was that of an ageless man, his robes a flowing cascade of deep blue, embroidered with silver. His long and silvery hair framed a face that radiated both wisdom and authority. His eyes, though, were concealed with a cloth, as everyone in the sect knew the reason behind it.

Jing Yu, sensing the gravity of the situation, took a deep breath before stepping forward. Despite his blindness, his movements were graceful, each step imbued with the authority that came from centuries of cultivation and leadership. The air was thick with tension as he approached Wang Tian, who stood like an unmovable mountain.

"Honored Empyrean," Jing Yu's voice was calm, yet it could not hide his wariness and fear. "It is an honor to have you here, though I wish the circumstances were different. Please, allow me to invite you to my residence where we can discuss matters in a more private and appropriate setting."

Jing Yu's tone was respectful. He knew that Wang Tian's presence here was not to be taken lightly. The sect members around them remained silent, their eyes darting between the two figures as they awaited Wang Tian's response.

Without hesitation, Wang Tian nodded, his expression unreadable. Jing Yu turned slightly, gesturing for Wang Tian to follow him. The two began to walk, the disciples and elders parting to allow them passage, their heads bowed in submission. The journey to Jing Yu's residence was marked by an almost eerie silence, the weight of Wang Tian's presence stifling any attempt at conversation.

As they approached the grand entrance of Jing Yu's residence, the ornate doors, carved with ancient symbols of the Heavenly Sword Sect, swung open as if recognizing the significance of the moment. Jing Yu led Wang Tian inside, where the atmosphere was markedly different—serene and quiet, a stark contrast to the palpable tension outside.

"Please, make yourself comfortable," Jing Yu offered, guiding Wang Tian to a seat. "I understand that you have certain requests, and I am here to listen and assist in any way I can."

Wang Tian's gaze swept across the room before settling on Jing Yu. He knew the power he held in this moment, and so did Jing Yu. The room, though peaceful, was filled with unspoken understanding—this meeting would determine the fate of the Heavenly Sword Sect.