Burial Sword Peak

Riding the clouds and wind across a thousand mountains, under the blazing midday sun.

Amidst their conversation, Jiang Wanyin and Xu Xian landed at the foot of Burial Sword Peak.

Wendao Sword Sect.

It was said to have seven peaks, but within each peak, there were hundreds of green mountains stretching out, varying in height and size.

Yet this Burial Sword Peak was truly just a single mountain.

The mountain was not the highest.

Nor was it the most perilous.

It was not majestic enough, nor was it grand enough.

But in the hearts of those in the Wendao Sword Sect, this peak had always been a legendary place that would endure forever.

The Guidao Slope on the mountain, covered in earthen mounds, was the spiritual destination that everyone in the Wendao Sword Sect yearned for.

Burial Sword Peak buried the heroes of the entire sect.

At the foot of Burial Sword Peak.

There was no wide square, nor was there a grand gateway; there was only a narrow winding path that snaked all the way to the summit.

The path had stone steps, ancient and heavy. There were no weeds beside the steps, and only a few fallen leaves lay upon them.

Though the road was narrow and the mountain remote, it was clear that people often came and went...

This was Xu Xian's first time at Burial Sword Peak, but he could roughly guess why Jiang Wanyin had brought him here.

Jiang Wanyin walked in front, and Xu Xian followed behind. Because the path was narrow and it was difficult to walk side-by-side, the youth deliberately slowed his pace, staying a few steps behind.

Jiang Wanyin seemed to be looking for a topic of conversation, deliberately asking Xu Xian, "Do you know why we have to walk up?"

Xu Xian looked up slightly and immediately replied, "Out of respect for the deceased."

Jiang Wanyin didn't say if he was right or wrong, only speaking slowly. "In our Wendao Sword Sect, there are two places where flying is forbidden. One is on Zhujian Peak, the mountain where the Sword Gate is located. Below the tribulation transcendence stage, one might want to fly, but cannot."

"The other place is this Burial Sword Peak. Here, one is not allowed to fly, not even the ninth-stage tribulation transcendence ancestors."

One place where one could not fly.

The other where one was not allowed to fly.

The former left no choice.

The latter was a matter of discipline.

Xu Xian raised an eyebrow to show he understood.

Jiang Wanyin's pace did not slow, and her voice became gentle. "...Senior Brother once told me that the first ones buried on Burial Sword Peak were the cultivators who fought alongside Master and unfortunately fell."

"After the demon race retreated, the demon race fled far away, and the spirits went into hiding, Master established the sect. He took soil from ten thousand miles of the Northern Borders to build this peak and erected ten thousand wordless steles to commemorate those fallen heroic spirits."

"He also established a rule: in the future, any disciple of our Wendao Sword Sect passing this peak must not control a sword or ride the wind. Future generations, if they climb this peak, must bow three times upon seeing the steles."

"First, to bow to the martyrs for their courage in slaying the enemy."

"Second, to bow to the martyrs' eternal spirit."

"Third, to bow to the martyrs for protecting the common people of the world."

"...."

Xu Xian's expression gradually became solemn, and he instinctively felt a surge of respect. He had heard of this; the ten thousand wordless steles had been erected at the beginning of the sect's founding.

They still stood today!

The reason they were wordless was because most of the cultivators who died then could not be identified by name, nor did they leave behind remains.

Moreover, they were not just cultivators of the Wendao Sword Sect. They were from the Three Sects, the Hundred Schools, the Thousand Sects, the Ten Thousand Races... even some rogue cultivators from the mortal world.

The Sword Ancestor's intention in erecting the wordless steles was to pay tribute to the warriors who died for the human race in that battle ten thousand years ago.

One could also say that those who had contributed but were lucky enough to survive could also have their souls return here when they died in the future, choosing a wordless stele to rest beside.

Because the steles were wordless, it showed the true greatness of his vision.

This matter was not limited to the Wendao Sword Sect; even in the Central Plains, it was often spoken of with admiration.

"Later on, whenever a disciple of the sect died for the sect, for the Northern Borders, or for all living beings, a new grave could be raised on this peak. To distinguish them from the wordless steles, no stone was erected; instead, a single sword was placed, with their name carved upon it. Over time, I don't know when it started, but this slope gained a name."

"Guidao Slope."

"In life, one seeks the path of longevity; in death, one sleeps on Guidao Slope."

"Gradually, the disciples of the sect came to consider being buried on Guidao Slope as the highest honor of their lives."

"Of course."

"Not all disciples can be buried on this Guidao Slope after they die..."

Xu Xian bowed his head and responded softly, "I understand."

The two talked lightly, the girl chattering like an old woman with endless stories to tell.

Without realizing it, the path ended. The dense forest on both sides thinned out, and the view suddenly opened up as they looked up.

The mountain peak they saw had not a single tree. Instead, under the blue sky and white clouds, a slope rose gently upward.

Green grass was like a carpet, swaying like waves in the wind.

Among the green grass, small earthen mounds were arranged neatly and densely.

At the highest point, stone steles stood upon the mounds.

Further down, if one looked closely, one could see swords among the grass, occasionally reflecting the brilliance of the sun.

Broken swords, damaged swords, rusted swords—they were countless, yet not a single one lay on the ground.

Every single one stood straight, just like their masters had been in life: unyielding and indomitable.

The two stopped and bowed three times.

Stepping onto the slope, they met another person.

A thatched hut stood there, leaking wind from all four sides. An old man sat withered, looking like a wandering old beggar.

Hearing the movement, the old man raised his head. From beneath his messy hair, a pair of deep eyes slowly opened, looking over from a distance.

Jiang Wanyin stopped, one hand held in front of her and the other hanging naturally. She bowed her head slightly in a distant greeting.

The old man hurriedly stood up and brushed the hair from his face, revealing a dark, wrinkled face covered in black stubble. He cupped his hands in a salute and said in a low voice:

"Junior greets Miss Jiang!"

Jiang Wanyin narrowed her eyes slightly and responded.

"I am well!"

"Carry on with your work."

She then continued her steps, heading up the slope.

Xu Xian also stopped, his Pupil of Insight activated, his gaze full of scrutiny.

An old man of unremarkable appearance, yet above his head were the words [Mid-stage of the Tribulation Transcendence Stage].

A hidden expert, nothing less.

He followed suit and cupped his hands in a salute to the elder, though the latter did not respond.

After Jiang Wanyin moved on, the man sat down again, leaning against a dry wooden pillar. He tucked his hands into his sleeves, found a comfortable position, and continued his nap.

Regarding the youth, he was directly ignored.

Xu Xian didn't mind and hurried after Jiang Wanyin.

He felt a bit curious about the old man.

After Xu Xian looked away, the nonchalant old man actually opened his eyes and stole a few glances at the youth's back.

In those deep eyes, a faint light flickered.

Using a voice only he could hear, he spat out two words.

"Xu Xian?"

On the other side, Xu Xian caught up to Jiang Wanyin in a few steps. There was no longer a path; they walked upon the green grass. After walking for a distance, they could see the earthen mounds where the grass grew more lushly, covering the swords.

However, as a cultivator, Xu Xian could clearly see that there were words on the swords.

[Wendao Sect · X-generation disciple · XXX]

Naturally, there were also newly raised mounds and newly placed swords, with fresh dirt scattered around them.

No need to think; these new graves must belong to the fellow disciples who had unfortunately died in the recent battle at the Demon Suppression Abyss.

Jiang Wanyin suddenly said, "That man just now is called Qiaofu."

"Qiaofu?"

"He is like your master, Ruan Hao, a Guest Elder in the sect, so he doesn't have to follow the sect's rules. He is also older than you, so it is only right that he didn't return your salute."

Xu Xian was stunned and rolled his eyes. "Senior Sister, you must be joking. I'm not that petty."

"But I heard you like to show off in front of others," Jiang Wanyin said.

Xu Xian: "Hmm?"

Jiang Wanyin said seriously, "People who like to show off are all vain and care about their reputation."

Xu Xian rolled his eyes and retorted, "Senior Sister, you're talking about Martial Nephew Qingshan. I'm not that vulgar."

Jiang Wanyin pursed her lips and smiled, looking half-convinced.

At the same time, Li Qingshan let out a loud sneeze on Zhijian Peak.

"Achoo!"

Rubbing the tip of his nose, he said narcisistically, "Which girl is thinking about me again?"