I Became a Peak Master With No Disciples?!

With that single wisp, the grey sky above the valley ceased to move. The mountain valley fell silent. No wind roared. No stone cracked. The world simply ceased to change.

The Dragon Emperor Sword in Su Ming’s hand began to vibrate. On Jian Wushen’s hip, his sword hummed inside its sheath, the hilt shaking against his robe. Their sword wills felt the pressure of an absolute authority that suppressed them before they could even rise.

Jian Wushen’s sovereign will resisted but was ultimately forced back. Beads of sweat appeared on his forehead, unable to move. His sword physique and sword bones vibrated and hummed in response, turning his face pale.

Su Ming’s knees buckled. He drove his sword into the ground, gripping it tightly. His knuckles turned white. His sovereign will resisted but was immediately forced back. The dragon will also fought. The Void Dragon Soul roared inside him, but the absolute authority suppressed it immediately. Both wills were suppressed so thoroughly that not a single trace of sword force could surface.

This was the gap.

Su Ming’s sovereign will was a forced action, pushed outward by raw strength and focus. He had to build it and hold it. The Ancestor did none of these things. He simply existed. His intent was not something he produced. It was the reality of that particular moment.

The sky was the sky, the mountains were the mountains, and he was the sovereign. Not because he had claimed the title. Not because he was strong. He simply was — the same way the sky was, the same way the mountains were.

Then, the old man exhaled. A small puff of white mist drifted from his lips, vanishing into the grey air.

Then it snapped.

The frozen leaf fell, hitting a stone with a dry click. The wind returned with a sudden howl, rushing through the pine branches and scattering the dust. Gravity reclaimed the valley.

Jian Wushen fell to one knee, coughing as he clutched his chest. His sword bones fell silent, the silver glow beneath his skin fading into a dull grey.

Su Ming collapsed forward, his forehead touching the soil. He gasped for air, his chest heaving rapidly. Sweat soaked his inner robes.

Ancestor Sky Sovereign remained there, looking out over the valley.

***

After that, the old man continued his lectures for a couple of hours. Jian Wushen also showed his sword technique to the old man, and the old man pointed out his flaws.

Jian Wushen’s sovereign will felt different, but Su Ming was too shocked to care. All of their actions blurred into the background.

He could only feel pain. It was more mental than physical. From his transmigration until now, this was the worst blow he had faced. He was utterly defeated, no questions asked.

"Go back," the Saint said, after some time, "Reflect on this."

Su Ming did not answer. He did not have the energy for it.

Both Jian Wushen and Su Ming bowed toward the Saint, turned, and left the valley.

***

The next morning, Su Ming woke early in his chamber on White Lotus Peak.

He did not leave his bed yet, but kept staring blankly at the ceiling above. The fatigue that pressed on him was not physical. It was the mental exhaustion of being utterly defeated.

No. It was the actions of the Ancestor Sky Sovereign effortlessly popping his ultimate move that left him mentally exhausted.

Since his transmigration into this world, he had faced beast tides, fought remnant wills of a dragon, and slew a mutated demon lord. He had always held the upper hand, relying on his ultimate moves to finish the fight as quick as possible. He had repaired flawed techniques and improved his existing techniques to their best, slowly building his strength steadily.

But everything had changed the day before.

Yesterday in the valley, that certainty had vanished. The Ancestor’s wisp of sword intent had not left a single scratch on his body, yet it had dealt a crushing blow to his common sense. Under that sword intent, his Stage 4 sword wills were nothing but simple tricks.

He had been completely suppressed, unable to even lift his finger against that absolute might.

He sat up, crossing his legs on the bed.

Having a teacher was indeed a good thing. For the first time, he was receiving actual guidance instead of resolving flawed cultivation techniques on his own. Yet, he was completely confused.

The Ancestor had told him to find what was missing, to reflect on yesterday’s teachings. But he had no idea how to do that.

The gap between a Sword Will and a Sword Intent felt like the same as the difference between earth and the moon. Obviously, he saw the sword intent, he experienced it, but he had no idea how to reach that realm.

The more he thought, the more his mind went in circles. He could not find a starting point.

As his thoughts drifted aimlessly, his divine sense picked up a sharp presence approaching White Lotus Peak. It was a familiar aura, cutting through the mountain mist like a blade.

’That guy....,’ Su Ming realized who it was. ’What’s he doing here?’

Su Ming sighed, got out of bed, put on his white robes, and walked out of the chamber.

Morning light was just breaking over the eastern peaks, casting a pale glow across the courtyard. The air was cold, carrying the scent of pine and wet earth. Standing near the stone steps, Wang Tian was already practicing his sword forms. The young disciple stopped his practice when he saw Su Ming, bowing deeply.

"Master," Wang Tian greeted, looking at Su Ming’s face.

Su Ming nodded, resting his hands inside his sleeves.

Wang Tian had some questions about their previous conversation yesterday, but before he could ask, a gust of wind swept across the peak.

A figure landed lightly in the center of the courtyard, dispersing the morning mist. Jian Wushen stood there, his sword hanging from his waist. His eyes carried an energetic light. He did not look tired at all.

"Brother Su," Jian Wushen said, his voice carrying across the quiet peak. "I could not wait. Let us spar."

Su Ming rubbed his temples, feeling a headache coming on. "It is barely morning. Do you never rest?"

"The Ancestor’s display of Sword intent has given me some inspiration. I want to try those out," Jian Wushen said, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. "If I do not spar with you today, I believe my sword will lose its edge. Let us not delay it any longer."

Su Ming looked at him, realizing the monstrous nature of his newly found sword brother. While Su Ming was contemplating systems and logic, Jian Wushen was simply eager to practice and exchange swords.

"Very well," Su Ming gave up, stepping onto the stone courtyard. "We will spar. But let us not try to kill each other. We will keep our cultivation base restrained and use only sword forms and sword wills."

Jian Wushen’s eyes brightened. "Agreed."

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