The gates of the Azure Tomb Palace creaked open with a sound that echoed through eternity.
Azure mist rolled out, soft and cold, coiling like phantom rivers around Lin Feng's feet as he stepped inside.
The interior was unlike anything he'd seen — a vast, circular hall without end, its walls made entirely of mirrors.
Each mirror shimmered faintly with azure light, but what they reflected… was not the Lin Feng who stood before them.
They showed countless versions of him — in tattered robes, in golden armor, bleeding, laughing, kneeling, weeping.
Some had eyes filled with hatred, others with despair, and some… with boundless arrogance.
The air trembled.
Then, the voice of the Azure Sovereign whispered, distant and calm:
"A sword's sharpness lies not in its edge… but in the heart that wields it."
"Face what you are… and what you could have been."
The mirrors cracked.
---
From one mirror, a young Lin Feng stepped out — fragile, trembling, dressed in the same plain clothes he wore in his first days at the mortal sect.
His hands shook as he held a broken wooden sword.
"Why do you fight?" the reflection asked softly.
"You never had talent. You were mocked, abandoned, and left behind. You'll always be the boy who lost."
Lin Feng's chest tightened. The pain of those memories — the ridicule, the loneliness, the helpless fury — surged back like a tide.
But then he smiled faintly.
"That boy died when he picked up the sword again."
One slash — clean, merciful, resolute. The reflection shattered into azure fragments that dissolved into his heart.
---
From another mirror emerged a version of Lin Feng in magnificent azure robes, a crown of sword light on his head.
This one carried himself like a god.
"You could rule them all," the reflection sneered.
"Why kneel before masters, why follow sects? You are above them. You could destroy kingdoms with a glance."
This reflection raised his sword — elegant, absolute.
Their blades clashed. Sparks of azure fire flew, shattering nearby mirrors.
The arrogant Lin Feng's strikes were precise, divine, and utterly merciless.
But Lin Feng's eyes were calm.
"Without humility, power is only destruction. Without respect, a sword loses its way."
He drove his blade through the reflection's chest.
"I don't need to be worshiped. I only need to keep moving forward."
The arrogant self faded into mist, leaving behind a faint shimmer of azure light that merged into his soul.
---
A third mirror cracked violently, and from it stepped a Lin Feng drenched in blood — his hair matted, eyes lifeless, his sword dripping crimson.
"This is what you'll become," the reflection hissed.
"A killer of all who stand in your way. You call it justice, but deep down, you crave slaughter."
The air thickened with killing intent.
The reflection attacked without warning — a storm of strikes faster than thought, every move fueled by hatred and despair.
Lin Feng was pushed back, his arms bleeding. He couldn't match the fury head-on.
Then he closed his eyes.
He remembered the faces of those he fought for — his fallen comrades, his master's calm guidance, the warmth of those who still believed in him.
When he opened his eyes again, his aura changed — not sharp, but serene.
"I don't fight for blood. I fight for the promise I made — to never bow again."
His blade moved once — gentle as falling snow.
The bloodstained reflection froze, then smiled faintly before vanishing into motes of light.
---
The last mirror trembled. From it stepped a version of Lin Feng wreathed in divine aura — cold, perfect, emotionless.
His eyes were blank, like a puppet's.
"This is the path chosen by fate," it said in a hollow tone.
"You will ascend, you will conquer, you will become what destiny demands — nothing more, nothing less."
Lin Feng frowned. "A puppet of destiny?"
The puppet raised its sword. "A perfect sword has no will of its own."
Their blades met — a silent collision of sheer force.
The shockwave split the hall into fragments, mirrors bursting into starlight.
The puppet fought like the heavens themselves — flawless, absolute, unfeeling.
Lin Feng's arms trembled as his aura cracked.
"You cannot defy the heavens," the puppet said coldly.
"Then I'll rewrite them!" Lin Feng roared.
Azure flames erupted from his body — the Azure Sovereign Soul Flame awakened, burning against divine order itself.
He struck with everything — his dragon blood roaring, his soul igniting.
His sword pierced the puppet's heart.
The puppet stared at him, eyes finally showing emotion — wonder.
"So… this is freedom…"
It shattered into azure light, and all the mirrors vanished at once.
---
The palace dissolved into mist. Lin Feng stood alone, breathing hard. His aura had changed — calmer, deeper, infinite.
Within his soul, the Azure Sovereign's voice whispered once more, proud and distant:
> "You have cut through your shadows… now your sword is your own."
"The Third Seal awaits — The Azure Soul Awakening."
A column of blue light rose from the floor, wrapping around Lin Feng's body. His consciousness blurred as the next trial began.