Chaotic Sword God Chapter 2: Changyang Xiang Tian

Chapter 2: Changyang Xiang Tian

All of a sudden, the blade gripped by Jian Chen began to act of its own accord, moving as if the weapon possessed its own consciousness. With startling speed, the sword lunged toward Dugu Qiubai, resembling a sudden bolt of lightning.

The velocity of the longsword was nearly impossible to perceive. Dugu Qiubai managed to react only when the edge had already reached his throat. A terrifyingly sharp sword Qi was infused within the blade. His eyes stretched wide with terror just as the steel drove through his neck. Once the strike was delivered, a strange mist manifested from the sword's hilt. This mist circled briefly in the air before the weapon returned once more to Jian Chen’s grip.

A hole the size of a fist gradually appeared in the center of Dugu Qiubai’s throat. As it transitioned through his neck, the tip of the sword had expanded, tearing a larger wound. Without this phenomenon, a blade so slender could never have left such a massive opening.

With wide eyes, Dugu Qiubai stared at the weapon, unable to process the impossible feat he had just witnessed. He struggled to part his lips to speak, but his pierced throat had robbed him of his voice. With a final expression of shock and dread, his body went limp and collapsed to the earth, never to rise again.

Jian Chen held his sword in silence as he watched the fallen Dugu Qiubai, barely suppressing a gasp of his own. He had never imagined that in his final hour of existence, he would achieve a breakthrough into the legendary realm of the Sword God. Yet, the realization was bittersweet, for he too was standing on the brink of death.

With an internal sigh, the light in Jian Chen’s eyes began to fade. Although the breakthrough had surged through his body with power, escaping his fate was impossible when his internal organs had been shredded.

Shortly after, Jian Chen followed Dugu Qiubai into the afterlife. His body slumped to the ground as he descended into the dark abyss.

Following Jian Chen's fall, the ground where the two combatants lay began to tremble violently. The tremors were so intense that the two sword-shaped peaks let out a deafening roar that shook the heavens, splitting both mountains in half. Massive boulders and debris cascaded down the slopes, triggering avalanches in every direction. The sky was painted in shades of purple and green, illuminating the world below. These colors merged into a magnificent display, though it was a tragedy that neither Jian Chen nor Dugu Qiubai remained alive to witness the beauty or the events that were to follow...

......

Within a grand and opulent mansion sat a room of magnificent decoration. A large crowd had assembled outside its doors. A young man paced back and forth incessantly, his features twisted with worry and stress. Appearing to be roughly thirty years old, he carried a regal and commanding aura. Despite the passage of time, the traces of his handsome youth were still evident. He wore a silver chang pao trimmed with gold, enhancing his noble stature and making him look like a true master of the house. His face was set in a grim expression, his eyebrows furrowed deeply in concentration.

A few meters away, a group of thirty individuals, varying from the young to the elderly, stood in a tense line. The seniors among them appeared to be sixty or seventy years old, their faces etched with wrinkles and framed by white hair. Yet, despite their advanced years, the divine light flickering in their eyes was enough to make onlookers tremble with fear. Based on the power radiating from them, they did not seem like frail old men at all, but rather like vigorous middle-aged warriors possessing the combined strength of a tiger and a dragon. The younger men were between thirty and forty, possessing intimidating auras and unreadable expressions. It was clear at a single glance that this was no ordinary gathering of people.

From within the room before them, the cries of a woman in labor echoed out.

“Madam, you must keep pushing, the infant is nearly here. I say again, the baby is almost out...” An elderly, hurried voice shouted over the sounds of pain. Anyone listening could tell the speaker was an old woman.

Outside, the middle-aged man who had been pacing stopped suddenly. “Ai... a full day and night have passed, why has Yun’er not given birth yet? If this continues, I fear Yun’er will be in grave danger.” His voice was thick with restless anxiety.

“My lord, please remain calm. Madam Yun’er will surely be alright. Do not forget that she is a brilliant Saint Master,” a white-haired Elder replied confidently, though he could not entirely mask the concern on his own face.

“Ai...” The lord in the white chang pao sighed once more, his dread not lessening in the slightest.

Finally, after two more hours of waiting, a jubilant cry rang out from the room. “My lord, my lord! Madam Yun’er has delivered! She is safe, and the child is a healthy boy!” The raw emotion in the announcement sparked a wave of excitement throughout the residence.

Hearing the news, the anxious man stood frozen with his mouth agape. The tension left his face, replaced by a flood of joy. Overwhelmed by emotion and unable to find words, he threw the doors open so violently it was as if they weren't even there. He moved with inconceivable speed; no normal person could have displayed such power and swiftness.

The man instantly appeared at the bedside and took a seat. His eyes were filled with love as he looked at the woman resting there. “Yun’er, how do you feel? You must be well!” Even in his excitement, he spoke with a gentle, caring tone.

Lying on the bed was a woman in her late twenties. Her beauty was so profound it could cause a kingdom to fall. Though her pale face was soaked in sweat and she looked exhausted, she still maintained a regal, divine air.

The woman looked at her husband with a weary smile. “My dear husband, I am alright. Please, let me see our child.”

“Oh! Yes! Immediately! As long as you are safe, Yun’er.” The man smiled happily, turning toward the swaddled infant held by the midwife. Just as he was about to speak, he noticed the midwife was frowning, staring intensely at the baby. She rocked the bundle in her arms, whispering, “Cry, little one, go on. What kind of child are you that you don’t cry? How strange. I have delivered nearly a thousand babies—over nine hundred, to be exact—but I have never seen a newborn that doesn't make a sound.”

As she spoke, the men from outside crowded into the room, smiles on every face. They began to offer their congratulations to the woman on the bed one after another.

Still beaming, the middle-aged man said to his wife, “Yun’er, you must rest first. I will bring the boy to you in a moment.” He stood and approached the midwife. “Is something wrong? Is there a problem with my son?” His voice lowered; he knew it wasn't rare for children to be born with ailments. He feared his newborn might be afflicted.

The midwife looked at him with an uneasy expression and said respectfully, “My lord, the young master seems healthy as far as I can tell. However, in my ten years of experience, every infant cries at birth. But this young master is different; look at him, he hasn't made a single sound since he arrived. This is a very peculiar situation.”

The man frowned in thought as he observed the infant. The baby’s eyes were clear and bright, devoid of any impurities as they darted around the room. He looked from one side to the other in a way that was quite adorable, suggesting nothing was wrong with him.

What the man failed to notice was that the child’s eyes were not just clear; they held a depth that felt like a vast abyss. There was a sense of profound wisdom in those eyes that momentarily shook the man’s soul, though he dismissed the feeling as impossible.

He placed his hand over the infant, and a thin layer of yellow light began to radiate from his palm.

The midwife watched nervously. As a member of the lower class, she feared being blamed for any defects the child might have. Even though it wouldn't be her fault, she lacked the status to defend herself against the lord's anger.

The man withdrew his hand, his heart finally finding peace. He laughed out loud, his smile returning. “The boy is perfectly fine. I find no issues at all.” He chuckled as he took the bundle from the midwife.

The midwife exhaled in relief. As her heart rate steadied, she joined in with an excited laugh. “The lord is right. Perhaps this is a sign of the young master's future. He will surely grow into a powerful and unique man.”

Though he knew the midwife was just being polite, the lord couldn't help but laugh. “Yes, yes, I certainly hope so. Attendants! Reward Mother Hong with a hundred gold coins!”

The midwife’s face lit up with joy. “I thank the lord! Many, many thanks!”

The father carried the baby back to the mother on the bed. “Yun’er, look! Here is our son. See how handsome he is!”

Yun’er held the child with tenderness, kissing his forehead. “Dear husband, as we agreed before, since he is a boy, his name shall be Changyang Xiang Tian.”

The husband laughed. “Excellent. I officially declare that this child is named Changyang Xiang Tian! Everyone, I invite you all to stay. Tomorrow, we shall hold a massive feast in my son's honor! We will celebrate this occasion properly...”

In the blink of an eye, a year had passed. By the edge of a small pond, a young child not even a meter tall stood staring blankly. His eyes were fixed on the rock garden in the center of the water. Though the boy wore expensive, beautiful clothes, his expression was strangely complex—far too mature for a one-year-old.

This child was indeed Changyang Xiang Tian. In his mind, a vivid and terrifying memory replayed constantly. Like a flickering film, he saw images of mountain peaks shaped like giant swords. He remembered being a twenty-year-old master of the blade, and the century-old, battle-hardened face of Dugu Qiubai. Finally, he recalled the moment of his death, and the breakthrough that had allowed him to touch the realm of the "Sword God." He remembered the final strike that pierced Dugu Qiubai’s neck, resulting in their mutual end...