The Last Immortal's Blade

chapter 2 Nytheris Oculus pupil 

The air was heavy with the scent of incense and the faint, lingering aura of death. Su Xuan stood in the Su family cemetery, his hands trembling as he placed the final stone on the grave of his little sister, Su Lan. The once-vibrant girl, who had always clung to his sleeve with a smile, now lay cold beneath the earth, her life extinguished by the Zhao family’s treachery. Around him, rows of freshly dug graves marked the final resting places of his clan members—each one a victim of the Zhao family’s ruthless ambition.

Su Xuan’s heart burned with a searing pain, not just from the loss, but from the weight of the promise he had made. He had spent weeks in the cemetery, performing the proper rituals for each member of the Su family, ensuring their souls could find peace. As he knelt before Su Lan’s grave, his voice was low but filled with an unshakable resolve.

“I promise you, Lan,” he whispered, his fingers brushing the cold stone. “I will annihilate the entire bloodline of the Zhao family. They will pay for what they’ve done. Every last one of them.”

As he spoke, a sudden, excruciating pain shot through his eyes. It was as if a thousand needles were piercing his vision, and he clenched his teeth to stifle a cry. The Blade of Eternal Requiem, which had merged with his soul, pulsed with a ghostly light at his side. The pain intensified, and Su Xuan felt a strange energy surging through him, as if the blade itself was awakening something deep within his being.

The voice that echoed in Su Xuan’s mind was the faint, fading whisper of a soul—a remnant of the Blade of Eternal Requiem’s previous owner. The voice was ancient, weary, and tinged with a sorrow that seemed to stretch across centuries. It carried the weight of countless battles, of a life lived in pursuit of power and vengeance, and of a soul that had finally reached its end.

“The Nytheris Oculus Pupil has awakened,” the voice murmured, its tone soft but resonant, like the final notes of a fading song. “You are now bound to the Blade of Eternal Requiem, not just in body, but in soul. The Vision of the Dead is yours to wield.”

Su Xuan froze, his breath catching in his throat. The voice was not coming from some external force—it was emanating from within him, from the blade itself. He could feel the presence of the soul fragment, a fragile, flickering light that was slowly dissolving into the heavens and earth. It was as if the blade’s previous owner was speaking to him from the brink of oblivion, their essence merging with the cosmos.

“Who… who are you?” Su Xuan asked, his voice trembling.

The soul fragment’s response was faint, almost imperceptible. “I am… no one. A shadow of the past. A wielder who failed to fulfill their purpose. The Blade of Eternal Requiem has chosen you now, and my time has come to an end. But before I fade, I will impart to you what little wisdom I have left.”

Su Xuan’s heart ached with a strange mix of reverence and sorrow. He could feel the soul fragment’s exhaustion, its readiness to let go. Yet, even in its final moments, it sought to guide him.

“The Vision of the Dead is not a gift,” the soul fragment continued, its voice growing weaker. “It is a burden, a curse born of the blade’s eternal hunger. With it, you will see the unseen—the regrets of the dead, the sins of the living, the chains of karma that bind us all. It will show you the truth, but the truth is often a heavy weight to bear.”

As the soul fragment spoke, Su Xuan’s vision shifted. The cemetery around him dissolved into a swirling sea of light and shadow. He saw flashes of the Zhao family’s crimes—their treachery, their cruelty, the lives they had destroyed. He saw the moment his family had fallen, their faces twisted in pain and fear. He saw the blood-soaked hands of the Zhao patriarch, his eyes gleaming with ruthless ambition.

The images were overwhelming, a torrent of pain and suffering that threatened to drown him. But amidst the chaos, he felt the Blade of Eternal Requiem’s presence, steady and unwavering. It anchored him, its ghostly light cutting through the darkness like a beacon.

“The Vision of the Dead will guide you,” the soul fragment whispered, its voice now barely audible. “But it will also test you. The more you see, the more you will be tempted to lose yourself in the abyss. Remember, Su Xuan, that vengeance is a double-edged sword. It can destroy your enemies, but it can also destroy you.”

Su Xuan clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms. He could feel the weight of the soul fragment’s words, the truth of them settling into his bones. But he also felt the fire of his resolve, burning brighter than ever.

“I understand,” he said, his voice low but steady. “I will bear the burden. I will wield the Vision of the Dead, no matter the cost. The Zhao family will pay for what they’ve done, and I will ensure that their sins are erased from this world.”

The soul fragment’s presence flickered, its light growing dimmer. “Then… my purpose is fulfilled. The blade is yours now, as is its power. Use it wisely, Su Xuan. Do not let your heart be consumed by darkness, as mine was.”

As the soul fragment’s voice faded, Su Xuan felt a surge of spiritual energy flood his body. The pain in his eyes subsided, replaced by a sharp, almost unnatural clarity. He could see the flow of Qi in the air, the faint traces of spiritual energy lingering around the graves. His cultivation level, which had been stagnant at Qi Gathering Level 3, suddenly broke through to Level 5 in a single, explosive moment.

The Blade of Eternal Requiem hummed softly, its ghostly glow intensifying. Su Xuan gripped the hilt tightly, feeling the blade’s power surge through him. He knew that the path ahead would be fraught with danger, that the Vision of the Dead would show him horrors he could scarcely imagine. But he also knew that he was no longer alone. The blade was his ally, his guide, and his weapon. Together, they would carve a path of vengeance through the Zhao family’s bloodline, no matter the cost.

With a final glance at the graves of his family, Su Xuan turned and walked into the dawn, his heart steeled and his resolve unshakable. The journey ahead would be long and arduous, but he was ready. For his family, for Su Lan, and for the promise he had made, he would see it through to the end.

And as the first rays of sunlight broke over the horizon, the last remnants of the soul fragment dissipated into the heavens and earth, its final whisper carried away on the wind: “Farewell, wielder of the Blade of Eternal Requiem. May your path be true.”