Rebirth of the Celestial Swordmaster

The first rays of dawn stretched across the sky, casting a golden glow over the quiet village. The air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of morning dew. At the outskirts, Lin Xiao stood still, gazing toward the distant mountains. The towering peaks were bathed in mist, mysterious and unreachable—yet they called to him.

Behind him, a small group of villagers had gathered. Some stood in silence, others whispered among themselves. They all knew this day would come.

An old woman, frail but kind-eyed, stepped forward. She had been the one to offer Luo Qing food when he was starving.

"Are you truly leaving, young one?" she asked softly, her voice laced with worry.

Lin Xiao did not hesitate. "Yes. There is nothing left for me here."

The village elder, a man who had seen many seasons pass, walked forward and pressed a small cloth bundle into Lin Xiao’s hands. "It’s not much, but take this. Some dried food, a little silver. You’ll need it."

Lin Xiao accepted the gift with a nod of gratitude. Though he had no deep attachment to this place, he wasn’t ungrateful. "Thank you."

The villagers watched as he turned away, his figure disappearing into the mist.

His journey had begun.

The road was long and untamed. Thick forests stretched endlessly on either side, the scent of damp earth filling the air. Birds called to one another from the treetops, and somewhere in the distance, a stream bubbled over smooth stones.

Lin Xiao moved with quiet purpose. His steps were sure, his senses alert. He wasn’t just walking—he was observing.

In his past life, traveling alone had been unthinkable. He had always been surrounded by disciples, guards, or sect elders. Now, stripped of status and power, he had only himself.

"It’s refreshing, in a way," he mused.

As he walked, he found an open clearing and decided it was time to test his newly formed meridians.

3. The First Cultivation Attempt

Lin Xiao sat cross-legged on the grass, closing his eyes. He took a deep breath, drawing in the essence of the world around him.

Inside his body, his newly reformed meridians pulsed with faint energy. It was weak—barely a flicker compared to his past self—but it was pure.

He focused, guiding the energy through his body.

Pain.

It struck him like fire racing through his veins. He gritted his teeth, sweat forming on his brow. His meridians, though new, were still fragile. Forcing too much energy through them could destroy them before they had a chance to strengthen.

"I need more time… and resources."

Without proper spirit herbs or techniques, he could only advance so far.

Then, a thought struck him. The Iron Fang Bandits.

They had shown signs of crude cultivation. That meant they had access to at least low-grade resources.

"If they have even the weakest spirit herbs, it will be enough."

A plan began to form.

Tracking the bandits was simple. Their movements were reckless, their paths obvious. Lin Xiao followed the broken branches, disturbed soil, and faint scent of smoke until he reached a hidden cave nestled between jagged cliffs.

Torches flickered at the entrance, illuminating a handful of guards. Inside, muffled laughter echoed—the sound of men who thought they were untouchable.

Lin Xiao crouched in the shadows, assessing. Six men outside. More inside.

Reaching for a stone, he flung it into the nearby bushes.

Rustle.

One of the guards turned. "What was that?"

Lin Xiao moved like a shadow. Before the man could react, a precise strike to the throat sent him crumpling to the ground.

One down.

He wasted no time. A quick strike to the base of the skull silenced another. Two down.

But then—

"INTRUDER!"

The remaining guards turned, weapons drawn.

"So much for stealth."

5. A Battle of Wits and Strength

The first bandit lunged, swinging a rusted sword. Lin Xiao sidestepped, twisting his body at the last moment. With a fluid motion, he grabbed the man’s wrist and drove his knee into his stomach.

Crack!

The bandit crumpled.

Another rushed in. Lin Xiao ducked under the wild swing and retaliated with a precise strike to the ribs. The bandit stumbled back, wheezing.

Two more came at once. Lin Xiao moved smoothly between them, parrying blows with minimal effort. His past experience allowed him to predict their movements before they even attacked.

Within minutes, the ground was littered with unconscious bodies.

Then—a slow clap.

The bandit leader stepped out of the cave, flanked by two men. He sneered, his knee still bandaged from their last encounter.

"You again."

Lin Xiao smirked. "Miss me?"

The leader snarled. "You think you're a hero?"

He unsheathed a heavy blade, eyes burning with rage.

"Kill him!"

The last fight had been an accident. This one? Lin Xiao was prepared.

6. The Final Strike

The leader charged, his blade cutting through the air with deadly force. Lin Xiao waited until the last second—then sidestepped.

The heavy weapon slammed into the ground. A mistake.

Lin Xiao’s hands moved faster than thought. He struck the man’s wrist, forcing him to drop the blade. Before the leader could react, Lin Xiao drove his palm into his chest.

CRACK!

The leader’s eyes widened. Blood dribbled from his lips.

He staggered.

He collapsed.

Silence.

Lin Xiao turned to the remaining bandits. "Leave. Now."

They didn’t hesitant.

Inside the hideout, Lin Xiao found exactly what he needed—silver, stolen goods, and low-grade spirit herbs.

His fingers brushed over a small pouch of powdered Jade Grass, an herb known to strengthen meridians.

"Perfect."

Gathering what he needed, he set fire to the rest.

The Iron Fang Bandits were no more.

As the hideout burned, Lin Xiao sat on a nearby rock, staring at the sky.

He was still weak. His journey had just begun.

But for the first time since his rebirth, he felt it—the thrill of power returning.

Tomorrow, he would move toward the Outer Lands.

And the world would soon remember his name.