The Last Immortal's Blade

Chapter 1: The Fall of the Noble Blade

The night seemed to grow colder as their footsteps faded into the distance, the crunch of gravel beneath their boots echoing like a death knell in Su Xuan’s ears. The moon’s pale light, once a comforting presence, now felt like a mocking gaze, illuminating the devastation around him. The Su family estate, once a sprawling testament to generations of power and prosperity, was now a graveyard of memories and dreams. The grand halls where laughter and celebration once rang out were reduced to jagged skeletons of wood and stone, their charred remains still smoldering faintly, as if the fire of betrayal itself refused to die.

Su Xuan’s body trembled, not just from the cold or the pain, but from the weight of his helplessness. His meridians, the pathways through which his cultivation energy flowed, were shattered beyond repair. The spiritual energy that once surged through him like a roaring river was now a stagnant pool, lifeless and useless. His cultivation base, painstakingly built over years of relentless effort, was crippled, leaving him weaker than even the most ordinary mortal. He tried to move, to push himself up from the ground, but his limbs refused to obey, his strength drained by the wounds that marred his body and soul.

His gaze swept across the courtyard, taking in the lifeless forms of his clansmen. There was Elder Su Ming, the family’s wise and gentle patriarch, his face frozen in a mask of shock and sorrow. There was Su Lan, his younger sister, her delicate hands still clutching the hilt of a sword she had barely learned to wield. And there were countless others—cousins, uncles, aunts, servants—all lying in pools of their own blood, their lives extinguished in a single night of treachery.

Su Xuan’s heart ached with a grief so profound it threatened to consume him. These were not just his family; they were his responsibility, his duty. He had sworn to protect them, to uphold the legacy of the Su family. And he had failed. The weight of that failure pressed down on him like a mountain, crushing his spirit even as his body lay broken.

As Su Xuan lay amidst the ruins of his family’s estate, his body broken and his spirit teetering on the edge of despair, the sound of footsteps echoed through the smoldering wreckage. He turned his head weakly, his vision blurred by pain and exhaustion, to see Li Mei and Zhao Feng approaching. The sight of them together, standing tall and unharmed amidst the devastation they had wrought, sent a fresh wave of anguish and fury coursing through him.

Li Mei’s beauty was as striking as ever, her long, ink-black hair cascading over her shoulders, her golden eyes gleaming like molten metal in the pale moonlight. But there was no warmth in those eyes now—only cold disdain. She looked down at Su Xuan, her lips curling into a cruel smile that twisted the knife of betrayal deeper into his heart.

“Su Xuan,” she said, her voice sharp and venomous, cutting through the silence like a blade. “Look at you. Broken. Pathetic. Is this really the man I was supposed to marry?”

Su Xuan’s breath hitched, his voice hoarse and barely audible as he whispered, “Li Mei… why? Why did you do this?”

Li Mei’s smile widened, but there was no joy in it—only malice. She stepped closer, her movements graceful and deliberate, as if she were savoring every moment of his suffering. “Why? You really have to ask, Su Xuan? You were never worthy of me. The Su family is finished. You are nothing but a relic of a bygone era.”

Her words struck him like a physical blow, each one a dagger to his heart. Su Xuan’s grip tightened on the hilt of his broken sword, his knuckles turning white as he struggled to push himself up. “We were to be married,” he said, his voice trembling with grief and rage. “I trusted you. I loved you.”

Li Mei laughed, a sound as cold and sharp as broken glass. “Love? What does love matter in a world where power is everything? The Zhao family offers me everything I could ever want—power, prestige, a future. What could you possibly offer? A crumbling estate and a name that means nothing?”

Behind her, Zhao Feng stepped forward, his handsome face twisted into a smirk. His arms were crossed, his posture relaxed, as if he were watching a particularly amusing play. “You see, Su Xuan,” he said, his voice dripping with arrogance, “this is how the world works. The strong rise, and the weak fall. Your family was weak, and now they are nothing but ash.”

Su Xuan’s eyes burned with fury, but his voice remained steady, low and dangerous. “You think this is the end? You think you’ve won?”

Zhao Feng chuckled, a sound filled with condescension. “Oh, I know we’ve won. Look around you, Su Xuan. Your family is gone. Your home is in ruins. You have nothing left.”

Su Xuan’s grip on his sword tightened, his voice rising with defiance. “You’re wrong. I still have my life. And as long as I live, I will make you pay for what you’ve done.”

Li Mei’s expression turned cold, her golden eyes narrowing as she stepped closer, her voice sharp and cutting. “You’re delusional, Su Xuan. You’re nothing but a broken man clinging to the remnants of a dead dream. You can’t even protect yourself, let alone seek vengeance.”

Zhao Feng’s smirk widened into a cruel grin as he stepped forward, standing beside Li Mei. “Let him live,” he said, his tone mocking. “A crippled dog like him is no threat to us. Let him crawl away and die in the shadows, forgotten and alone.”

Li Mei’s lips curled into a sneer as she turned away, her voice cold and dismissive. “Goodbye, Su Xuan. I hope the memories of your failure haunt you for the rest of your miserable life.”

With that, they turned and walked away, their laughter echoing through the ruins as they left Su Xuan to face the devastation of his betrayal. The sound of their footsteps faded into the distance, leaving behind only the crackling of dying flames and the faint whispers of the wind.

Su Xuan’s body trembled with rage and grief, his mind replaying their words over and over. Li Mei’s betrayal cut deeper than any blade, her cruelty and disdain a stark contrast to the warmth and affection she had once shown him. And Zhao Feng’s arrogance, his smug confidence, was a reminder of the vast gap between them—a gap that Su Xuan knew he had to bridge if he hoped to seek vengeance.

But amidst the pain and despair, a spark of defiance ignited within him. Li Mei and Zhao Feng had underestimated him, dismissing him as a broken man with no hope of rising again. But they were wrong. Su Xuan still had his life, and he still had his will. And as long as he had those, he had a chance.

As Su Xuan lay amidst the ruins, his blood pooling beneath him, a single drop seeped into the earth. The ground beneath him began to tremble, a deep, resonant hum echoing through the air. The earth seemed to come alive, its surface cracking and shifting as if something ancient and powerful was stirring from its slumber.

From the depths of the earth emerged a blade, its surface gleaming with an otherworldly light. The blade was unlike anything Su Xuan had ever seen—its hilt adorned with intricate carvings of phoenixes and dragons, its blade shimmering with a faint, ghostly glow. The air around it seemed to warp and twist, as if the blade itself was a fragment of another realm.

"The Blade of Eternal Requiem," a voice whispered in his mind, ancient and commanding. "You are its chosen. Rise, and claim your destiny."

Su Xuan’s eyes widened as he reached out, his fingers brushing against the hilt. The moment his hand closed around it, a surge of energy coursed through his body, filling him with a power he had never known. Visions flashed before his eyes—ancient battles, celestial realms, and a figure wielding a blade that could cleave the heavens themselves.

But the power was fleeting. Su Xuan’s body was still crippled, his cultivation base shattered. He was only at the Qi Gathering Realm (Level 3), while Zhao Feng was at the Foundation Establishment Realm (Level 8). The gap between them was vast, and Su Xuan knew he couldn’t hope to challenge Zhao Feng in his current state.

With the Blade of Eternal Requiem in hand, Su Xuan struggled to his feet, his body trembling with the effort. Every step was agony, but his resolve was unshakable. He knew he needed to grow stronger, and to do that, he needed resources—resources he could only find in a powerful sect.

The Eternal Dao Sect, one of the most prestigious sects in the Luluo Empire, had just announced its disciple recruitment trials. It was Su Xuan’s only hope.

The Blade of Eternal Requiem was no ordinary weapon. It was a relic from the Archaic Era, a time when immortals walked the earth and the boundaries between realms were thin. The blade had been forged in the fires of celestial strife, tempered by the tears of fallen gods, and imbued with the power of the last immortal who had wielded it. For millennia, it had lain dormant, waiting for a worthy soul to awaken it.

Su Xuan’s blood, spilled in the ruins of his family’s estate, had been the key. The blade had chosen him, not because of his strength or his cultivation, but because of his unyielding will and the fire of vengeance that burned within him.

As Su Xuan stood amidst the ruins, the blade in his hand, he felt a connection to it—a bond that went beyond mere ownership. The Blade of Eternal Requiem was a part of him now, and it would guide him on his path to vengeance.

The road ahead would be long and treacherous, but Su Xuan was ready. He would rise from the ashes, like a phoenix reborn, and he would reclaim what had been taken from him. The night had been cold, but the dawn brought with it the promise of a new day—a day where Su Xuan would begin his journey of vengeance and redemption.

And when the time came, he would make Li Mei and Zhao Feng regret the day they had betrayed him.