The night pressed heavy over the sect grounds, cloaking the ancient stones in a thick, suffocating darkness. Lin Xuanyuan's breath came in shallow bursts, the air tasting stale and metallic in his mouth. The wounds from the ambush still throbbed, but it was the deeper pain—the betrayal, the fractured trust—that gnawed at his spirit.
He crouched behind a shattered pillar near the eastern gate, eyes scanning the shadows. The pulse of the broken sword fused to his arm was faint but steady—a small comfort in the storm of uncertainty.
"They think I'm finished," he muttered, voice rough. "They think their poison will kill me."
But Lin knew better. They had unleashed hell on him, but it had only ignited a fire.
A soft rustle echoed through the dead leaves at the foot of the wall. Lin tensed, ready to strike.
From the shadows, a lone figure stepped forward—clad in the black robes of a cultivator, face obscured by a hood. The faint gleam of a blade caught the moonlight.
"I warned you," the voice hissed, low and cruel. "You don't belong here, Legacy Bearer. Your presence poisons this place."
Lin's eyes narrowed. "Who sent you?"
The figure laughed—a dry, bitter sound.
"The elders grow impatient. They want you gone. Tonight."
Before Lin could respond, the attacker lunged.
Time slowed. The broken sword flared to life, tendrils of radiant energy swirling like a living thing. Lin moved on instinct, parrying the blade with a ringing clash that sent sparks into the night.
But this was no ordinary opponent. The cultivator fought with practiced precision, weaving in and out of Lin's defenses, each strike calculated to kill.
Lin's AI chimed urgently in his mind: Forbidden move available. Warning: Extreme energy consumption.
His core throbbed with the promise of power and peril.
If he unleashed it, the fight would end quickly—but at great risk.
The clash of steel echoed across the empty courtyard as the two combatants battled fiercely. Lin's enhanced reflexes and techno-spirit channeling allowed him to keep pace, but the enemy's speed and ruthlessness pushed him to the edge.
A sudden strike grazed his shoulder, pain blossoming hot and sharp.
Blood dripped down his arm, mixing with the faint glow of the fused sword.
Activate forbidden move, the AI urged.
Lin's breath hitched. He had sworn not to tap into that dark power unless there was no other choice.
But tonight was that night.
Summoning every ounce of will, he clenched his fist, feeling the broken sword pulse violently against his skin.
A blinding surge erupted from his core, energy flooding through his veins like liquid fire.
The world distorted around him—colors sharpened, sounds intensified, and his senses became razor-focused.
The forbidden technique—"Heaven's Last Strike"—had been unlocked deep within the legacy data, a move once wielded by the ancient emperor himself.
Lin's body moved with inhuman speed and strength, each strike a lightning bolt of destruction.
The attacker barely had time to react.
With a final, devastating blow, Lin shattered the enemy's blade and sent him sprawling to the ground, unconscious but alive.
Panting, Lin stood victorious—but the cost was clear.
His energy core roared with exhaustion, threatening to collapse under the strain.
He dropped to one knee, sweat and blood mingling on the cracked stones.
The sect's silence was broken by distant shouts—more attackers coming.
Lin's eyes hardened.
"They'll never stop coming," he whispered, voice steady despite the pain.
He looked to the horizon, where the faint glow of the city lights flickered beyond the sect's walls—a reminder of a world lost to chaos.
"If they want me dead for what I carry," Lin vowed, gripping the broken sword tighter, "then I'll give them war."
The dawn was still hours away, but inside Lin Xuanyuan, a rebellion had already begun.
The spark had been lit.
Aftermath
The forbidden move had exposed Lin's true power to the sect—and beyond.
Word would spread of the boy who fought with the fury of an empire's last hope.
Some would fear him. Others would hunt him.
But there would also be those who would rally to his cause.
Standing alone amidst the ruins, Lin felt the weight of legacy and destiny settle upon his shoulders.
He was no longer just a survivor.
He was the spark that could ignite the heavens.
And the last empire would rise from the ashes.
The night air hung heavy with the scent of sweat and dust as Lin Xuanyuan steadied his breath. His body was trembling—not just from exhaustion, but from the surge of raw power he had unleashed moments ago. The forbidden move was a double-edged sword: it saved his life, but at a great cost.
His limbs ached, his vision blurred slightly, and his core—the fusion of ancient cultivation and nano-tech—screamed in protest. The AI's voice, calm but urgent, echoed in his mind: Core stability critical. Recommend immediate rest and energy replenishment.
But there was no time.
From the distant shadows, faint footsteps grew louder—voices chanting orders in harsh whispers. The sect's enforcers, armed with relic weapons and poisonous intent, were converging on his position. The ambush had merely been the first wave.
Lin pushed himself up, pain stabbing through his ribs as he tightened his grip on the broken sword. Its glow pulsed rhythmically, as if responding to his will.
He couldn't run. Not yet. To retreat now would mean surrendering everything he'd fought to protect—the secret legacy within him, the hope that flickered in the ruins of this broken world.
His thoughts raced, a whirlwind of strategy and desperation. The sect was corrupted—rotten to its core—and the elders who ruled it saw him as a threat, a catalyst of change that could unravel their fragile grip on power.
He was more than a threat. He was a reckoning.
From the shadows, a figure emerged—his loyal ally, the one who had stood by him since his arrival in the sect. Her eyes shone with fierce determination, her voice low but steady.
"Xuanyuan, this way! There's a hidden passage beneath the eastern wall—I found it during the trial."
Lin barely hesitated. He grabbed her arm, nodding sharply.
They moved swiftly, shadows among shadows, slipping through the crumbling corridors as the shouts and footsteps grew distant but no less threatening.
The passage was narrow, damp with the scent of mold and forgotten secrets. It descended deep beneath the sect, where the old foundations intertwined with the ancient ruins below.
"This place…" Lin whispered, touching the cold stone. "It's older than the sect itself."
His fingers brushed against a carved symbol—an ancient emblem of the lost empire.
The AI hummed softly. Legacy data connection restored.
A surge of knowledge flooded his mind—tactics, technologies, cultivation secrets long buried beneath the sands of time. It was a reminder of what he was fighting for.
His path was no longer just about survival. It was about resurrection.
His companion glanced at him, concern flashing across her face.
"Xuanyuan, you used the forbidden move. You risked everything."
Lin swallowed hard. "I had no choice. If they kill me now, the legacy dies with me. I can't let that happen."
She nodded, understanding.
They reached a cavernous chamber lined with ancient machinery and faded murals depicting battles between gods and mortals, empires rising and falling under celestial judgment.
The weight of history pressed down on Lin's shoulders, but it also ignited a fierce resolve.
He knelt before a console pulsing with dormant energy, placing the broken sword on the panel. The device flickered to life, casting eerie blue light across the chamber.
"This is the heart of the empire's power," Lin said softly. "If I can unlock this, I can rebuild what was lost… but first, I must become stronger."
Outside, the sect stirred. The rebellion had begun.
Lin's thoughts hardened into a promise carved from steel and fire.
"They think I'm just a boy," he murmured, eyes blazing with determination. "But I am the last spark. The last empire will rise—and the heavens themselves will tremble."
The long night stretched on as Lin Xuanyuan prepared to embrace his destiny. The war had only just begun.