AI Cultivation: Reborn as a Sword

The spectator stands are packed even more than they were during the Conference. The people and cultivators present now are so numerous that it makes the Conference look like a small event. Not just commoners, or members of other sects, but there are so many Seven Killing Swords disciples present, that it wouldn’t surprise me if the entire sect came out to watch Lan Xiaohui’s execution.

Likewise, the Heavenly Mountain Pavilion, Frozen Peak Palace, and Galaxy Sword sect are also out in force, filling the stands with even more spectators.

All this for merely one execution.

However, it is also not that strange when I consider the culture of this lifeform; to witness a future sect patriarch engage in combat like this is probably something any one of them will experience only once in their lifetime, and it is likely a good opportunity to give face and respect now, to reap benefits later.

That is why even the smaller sects — the not-so-major powers — are present. There is no shortage of people whom I do not recognize.

Grand Elder Zhuo, Elder Li, Xin Muchen, and more faces I have vague memories of, and that’s only on the Seven Killing Swords sect side. Mu Jingyu, Tian Li, Sun Yongzheng, Elder Mo, Elder Qin — almost everyone Lan Xiaohui had met during her stay at the Galaxy Sword sect is present; even Hu Yan — the person Lan Xiaohui worked for briefly as a meat carver — is here, including the rude receptionist that never seemed to like my owner.

But the people my owner’s eyes are searching for, and the ones she was hoping to see the most, are not there. Lady Yue, Yun Fei, and Wu Yulan were nowhere to be seen.

In her heart, a chaotic breeze ruffled the knots; maybe this was for the best, she thought. Even now, the outcome is uncertain.

The elders walking behind her thought so as well. My adjustments have had a bit of an unexpected result. Two months ago, Lan Xiaohui was about to enter the peak stage of Core Formation. Now, her cultivation was that of an early-stage Core Formation cultivator.

How, or why, her cultivation dropped like this confused the elders, and whatever hope they had for Lan Xiaohui’s success in this endeavor was crushed as soon as their eyes fell on my owner.

Ancestor Yang, that strange individual that was not referred to as Elder, back when Lan Xiaohui and Wu Yulan were negotiating their entering the sect, offered to even search Lan Xiaohui’s spiritual vessel, in hopes of finding and eradicating traces of poison — to them, poison was the only explanation.

Naturally, my owner refused.

“No need,” she said, back then. “What’s done is done.”

To them, Lan Xiaohui looked like she had embraced her inevitable death.

And they were right.

Lan Xiaohui would die here.

They lead her to the repaired and now-reinforced arena and then part ways with my owner, as they head toward their seats. None of them offer words of farewell, wish her luck, or say anything at all. If a miracle could happen — which in their mind seemed as unlikely as a pound of dirt turning into a hundred tons of gold — it would depend on Lan Xiaohui’s mental state, and they would do absolutely nothing to try to sway it or influence it.

What’s done is done, Lan Xiaohui said, and they now felt the same way. What’s done is done, and what’s going to happen is going to happen.

In a way, many years ago, her parents were supposed to lead her, just like those elders did, to her would-be husband, and hand her over to the Yu Clan.

In an ironic twist of fate, perhaps, her elders led her to the stage, where her would-be executioner was waiting; dressed as well for the occasion as he would be for marriage. Even now, Yu Shun remains the only person I’ve ever seen dress so extravagantly and eloquently; his fashion is almost like a military uniform, with its many golden tassels and hints of profound armor.

His looks were not bad either; long black hair, still tied into a bun and ponytail, and vibrant, but empty violet eyes. That shadow I sensed back then, in the corridor in front of Yun Fei’s dorm, is still present and as overwhelmingly dark as it was back then — the aura of a devil, like me.

A mirthless smile settles on Yu Shun’s lips as Lan Xiaohui approaches. “Did you try to break your own cultivation?” he asks, tone cold and monotone — as if it was a bother to even talk to my owner.

My owner doesn’t reply, even when she stops walking — thirty or so steps away from Yu Shun. Her heart is calm and cold — focused even. The lie I told her about [Heart Sacrifice Sutra] still seems to hold sway.

This is good. This is for the best.

“You know, you should be happy about this,” Yu Shun says, speaking quietly, so the formations do not pick up his words.

“Why is that?” Lan Xiaohui asks.

“You will help me cross the great barrier,” Yu Shun says. “Do you know what that means?”

Lan Xiaohui watches him coldly, eyes half-lidded. The first signs of anger invade her heart but are quickly crushed.

“It means becoming a saint or a god,” Yu Shun answers his own question. “If I can reach Nihility, I can bring the peace and stability our sect — this entire continent — needs. Your sword taught me that.”

Lan Xiaohui frowns.

“I don’t even remember the name of the first person that found it. His surname was Meng, I am sure of that,” Yu Shun says. “My brother killed him. Elder Ye confiscated it from my brother, and I killed Elder Ye. Ever since, I’ve shed so much blood until I realized this one simple, obvious fact. Unless I reach the realm of Saints and Gods, I will always kill to keep what is mine. Don’t you agree?”

As once more, no reply comes from my owner, Yu Shun’s eyes narrow and a hint of anger invades his tone. “Xaiohui, I asked you a question.”

My owner tilts her head. “Who do you think you are speaking to?” she asks. “The person you think is standing here is gone; you created everything she was, all the regret, agony, and sorrow. You make it sound like you made a great sacrifice for your sect, and even the continent, but the only people that sacrificed anything were those you hurt!”

“I also suffered!” Yu Shun hisses. “There was a time when I wanted to spend my life with you — I was even going to let my brother become the Patriarch. I sacrificed my heart, and suffered just like you so that others no longer have to! This world is cruel and evil! I had to protect the sect! Have you ever heard of Guardian Sects or wondered what for they exist?! You might think it was unjust, but it was necessary!”

Lan Xiaohui scoffs. “The opposite of justice is not evil; it’s just another kind of justice,” she says. “Yu Shun, you are just cruel and evil. After I kill you, I will rip out your entire filthy cabal and tear down the last brick of that precious sect you claim you wanted to protect.”

“… You…!”

“You sacrificed something?” Lan Xiaohui asks a heavy dose of mockery in her tone. “You’ll make me laugh. What justice? What good or evil? What greater good? You don’t care about any of that. All you care about is yourself!”

“Xiaohu—“

“Don’t call me by that name!” Lan Xiaohui exclaims, raising her voice. “That person is gone; fed to the same embers that became of the heart I gave to you! You burned it all to ashes! And a part of me is grateful for that, and to you.”

“… why?”

Slowly, Lan Xiaohui draws me from my sheath with a thundering rasp and hiss.

“Because ashes don’t weep.”