The Origin of the Sword Sect

Number 381.

This was Su Qing’s rank in the entrance exam, her student number, and her place in line for the spiritual root test.

A spiritual root test.

Did she have one?

Having never had an appendectomy, her odds seemed decent.

Would it be something extraordinary—a single spiritual root, a mutated one, or a rare Five Elements Primal Root?

If the heavens sent her to this world, they’d surely grant her a cheat code, some innate talent.

Su Qing’s mind buzzed with wild thoughts.

The line was long. With no one to talk to and nothing to do, her legs moved mechanically, her mind blank.

She recalled last night’s talk with Chen Yu.

After seeing Xiu Fu off, Chen Yu walked her back to the dorm under the night sky. Su Qing’s tears had dried in the cold wind, her heart hollow but her mind sharpening.

“Steward Chen, if the Sword Sect wants us to join, why spread such rumors and do these things now? Many who’d have stayed left because of it. Is this another test?”

Chen Yu didn’t answer directly, posing her own question. “Su Qing, do you think the Sword Sect is good?”

Good?

“Of course it is.”

Su Qing reflected. The Sword Sect welcomed mortals, and the stewards and disciples who recruited in Little Shu Village were kind, never condescending. Without that, she might not have come.

No tuition, excellent food and lodging—nothing to fault from a modern perspective. Even compared to the harsh broader world, mortal capitals’ academies couldn’t match these conditions.

Open to all, regardless of background or talent, free tuition, taught by masters. It sounded unreal, like a gift from the heavens.

So where was the pain?

Chen Yu spoke slowly. “When I joined, the Sword Sect was better. Though broken, it wasn’t as tangled as now, pulled by another force. My seniors and peers were more than classmates—they were family. My life was theirs, and theirs was mine.”

Su Qing understood: the other force was the noble clans. They’d spread the rumors. Her fists clenched, anger flaring.

“I don’t get it. What do they want?”

“What do they want?” Chen Yu smiled faintly. “To make the Sword Sect their own, to erase the Free Immortal’s shadow from this world.”

To let the Free Immortal, founder of the Sword Sect, truly perish, leaving no successors.

Naturally, Chen Yu shared the sect’s origin story, starting with the Free Immortal.

The Free Immortal wasn’t always the world’s greatest. Just an ordinary girl with mediocre talent, rejected by every sect, she turned to the path of a rogue cultivator.

This was common then.

For millennia, noble clans monopolized cultivation resources and ascension paths. Countless rogue cultivators experimented like alchemists testing herbs, risking everything. The lucky stumbled onto the right path; the unlucky faced blocked meridians, stalled cultivation, or death by explosion.

The Free Immortal, then unknown, was unremarkable. No one foresaw that in five hundred years, she’d rise like a phoenix, storm the Sword Pavilion with one sword, and claim the title of the world’s greatest swordmaster.

The leading Han Clan, enraged, sent three Tribulation-stage elders to kill her. She slew them all.

Thus, the Free Immortal became a legend.

Yet, she had no desire to rule alone. Ignoring the clans’ flattery, she retreated to the continent’s edge, renaming the mountains Tianxia Sword Mountain and founding the Tianxia Sword Sect—where all sword intent belonged, and the sect belonged to all.

Rumors said her old wounds from the Han Clan battle resurfaced, shattering her foundation, forcing her to hide in the mountains. Her disciples weren’t prodigies or clan heirs but beggars, cowherds, and fishergirls—many with weak or useless spiritual roots.

No one paid attention, assuming it a whim or scheme. Yet, two hundred years later, her first cohort of 240 disciples produced 162 Nascent Soul cultivators.

A small clan with one Nascent Soul was impressive; 162 was unheard of.

The Free Immortal was not only a genius but a genius at teaching cultivation.

Chen Yu’s voice, gentle yet cold, asked, “If you were a noble clan, what would you do?”

A lone genius was tolerable. But sharing the world with mortals?

Impossible. They couldn’t let the Sword Sect grow, couldn’t let mortals touch the path to immortality. Otherwise, it would truly be the Free Immortal’s world, the Sword Sect’s world.

The clans, rooted in this land for millennia, would be left with scraps.

They had to crush her and her sect, by any means, at any cost.

“The clans united to suppress us, a storm brewing, the tower about to fall. But before that, the demonic cultivators struck…” Chen Yu continued. “The reason’s unclear, likely tied to ascension’s fate. It was a full moon, called the Full Moon War. It lasted three months, until the Demon Lord fell and the demonic forces retreated. The Free Immortal fell soon after. The Sword Sect was devastated, nearly barren.”

“Later disciples tried to sustain it, but with only three hundred years of history and no high-tier powerhouses, it declined. I was picked up by my senior sister then.”

The heavy tale clashed with the sect’s vibrant present. Su Qing couldn’t help asking, “What happened next?”

“We couldn’t let the Sword Sect vanish. By any means necessary. Perhaps with that resolve, or some deal, our senior brother Wang Quan, against all objections, ceded half the sect’s authority to share rule with the clans.”

Chen Yu explained, “Revival needed their resources and protection. The clans wanted to unravel the sect’s Nascent Soul-making machine. Their alliance birthed today’s Sword Sect. It’s been 315 years since the Free Immortal’s fall.”

These weren’t secrets; Chen Yu spoke freely.

Su Qing realized why Chen Yu was so warm: by toppling the Qi Clan during the trial, she’d unknowingly chosen a side.

She was aligned with the sect’s original faction.

That was fine. She came for protection, with no room for neutrality. Besides, she despised the clans’ intimidation, deception, and oppression of outsiders.

“Are my companions, Li Xiu Fu and Zhu Xing’er, safe at home?”

“Don’t worry,” Chen Yu said. “I’ve arranged to relocate their families to Shu City, under the Sword Sect’s protection. They’ll be fine.”

A weight lifted from Su Qing’s heart. She thanked her sincerely. “How can I repay you?”

Chen Yu smiled. “I told you this to clarify your situation, so you’re not blindly tricked. I don’t seek repayment.”

Su Qing countered, “I may lack ability now, but who knows later?”

Chen Yu’s smile faded, her tone serious. “Fine, I misspoke. I do seek repayment. Cultivate well—that’s the greatest return to the Sword Sect. If you become someone like the Free Immortal, the sect’s revival is possible.”

Someone like the Free Immortal? Easier said than done. It was like a teacher saying, “Study hard, that’s thanks enough.”

Su Qing grumbled inwardly but smiled. Chen Yu laughed too. “You’re bold, only worried for your friends. Got a plan for yourself in the sect?”

Su Qing had thought it through. “I’ll steer clear of them.”

“Open spears are easy to dodge; hidden arrows aren’t,” Chen Yu warned. “If you trust me, I have two paths. One, apply for work-study for basic security. Two, I’ll arrange your roommates.”

Su Qing had no reason to doubt her. If she couldn’t trust Chen Yu, who could she trust?

“Whatever you arrange, Steward Chen.”

But before dorm assignments came course selection, and before that, the spiritual root test.

Su Qing stood at the testing site.

She prayed for a cheat code, hoping her starting talent wasn’t too lackluster.

Soon, the testing steward called, “Number 381, Su Qing, to Seat 9!”