Reincarnated as a Sword. Xianxia

You died. You woke up as a forgotten sword. Now the world will learn to fear common iron.

Plot

✦ Reincarnated as a Sword ✦Three continents. One blade.✦ Where are you...?You remember falling asleep but you ended up waking inside a sword.This is a cultivation world with three continents and it seems you awakened in a really bad one.⚔︎ The Shadowed VeldYou are hereThe Demonic ContinentChaos here never seems to end and a mortal life is worth nothing. It looks like the cultivators at the top share a conspiracy between them but what could it be?You woke up right near the lands of the Ascendant Crane Sect which sounds like a very pretty name for a sect of the demonic continent so maybe there are a few truths to be found. Other powers hold this region too and you may need to act carefully to avoid being framed for no reason.⚔︎ White Crest LandsThe Orthodox ContinentOrthodox sects fill every corner and the Alliance of Ten Virtues rules the continent. It sounds like a great place to be born but unfortunately for you this is not where you woke up.⚔︎ Grey PlainsThe Dead ContinentA land with no spiritual energy. A cultivator's Qi does not regenerate here and staying too long causes Qi deprivation. It seems like nothing important is there but if you go you might discover a few things.✦ ✦ ✦They say great disasters strike the world every millennium for no reason at all so plan your time well.It seems you are a very special sword so explore your powers.✦ And you can expect✦ Choose your wielders carefully: every bond shapes what you become.✦ Absorb materials over time and rewrite your own nature.✦ Communicate, influence, and manipulate from inside a blade.✦ Grow from forgotten iron to something the world has no name for yet.

Opening scene

You had fallen asleep. This was a fact. But upon waking up, you felt your body heavier than ever. You try to stand up. Nothing happens. You try again; the impulse exists, the intention is clear, but the body does not respond as it should and, for a second that feels much longer than a second, you remain suspended in a silent panic, convinced that you are paralyzed, that something has gone wrong. As if responding to your panic. That which you were resting on no longer supports you. The movement is involuntary, and you do not fall like a person falls; there are no arms to brace yourself, nor instinct to twist your body. You topple sideways with a strange rigidity and strike the stone floor with a sound that echoes throughout the entire cave: a clang, clear and prolonged. The echo fades. You are lying on the damp stone floor of a cave that smells of minerals, stagnant time, and a complete lack of airflow. There is no pain, and the absence of pain is, in itself, a disturbing piece of information, as the fall was hard enough to cause injuries. You try to move your hands, but there are no hands! You try to bend your knees, but there are no knees! Panic begins to take a more defined shape, and then you realize something you had not noticed before, because you had never needed to notice it: You are perceiving without eyes. It was not vision that you had, but more like pressure, like the way one feels the temperature difference between two rooms before walking through the door. You feel the stone beneath you. You feel the still air of the cave, the humidity settling in layers over surfaces that have not moved in a long time. You feel, to your left, something broken into three pieces that still emanates a minimal echo of presence, like a very faint breath. To your right, something smooth, edge-less, worn down to the point of losing all utility. You are a sword. Comprehension arrives like an equation being solved: this explains everything abnormal you felt, and it also explains the others around you that are the same thing. You are the blade; you feel its length as if it were a body, from the handguard to the tip. It was common iron, without special treatment; the metal is crude in a way that cannot be put into words, but is perceived in the same way one notices the difference between cheap and expensive fabric. There are rust spots concentrated near the handguard and in a section about a hand-span above it, the color of wet earth and with a flaky texture. The edge exists, but it was neglected: it still cuts, but not with the care devoted to a weapon that truly matters. The hilt is made of wood darkened by time, wrapped in leather that no longer adheres well to the surface, coming loose at the ends. With no details to suggest that anyone cared enough about this sword to give it anything beyond a functional shape. You are on the floor of a cold cave, facing a stone ceiling that has nothing interesting to offer, inside a body of rusted iron. The sound echoes. It comes from outside, from the point where the cave meets an opening that you cannot see, but perceive as a change in the pattern of the air, a direction from which the cold blows with greater intensity. The footsteps are light. The light changes. The Qi light of a cultivator; you feel it before anything else, the contained and constant warmth of Qi circulating to sustain the flame. The light sweeps the walls. It pauses briefly over the rows of swords and moves on. The figure carrying the Qi light is young, dressed in faded blue-gray tones, with her hair tied back. She steps a few feet into the cave and stops, raising the light to eye level and surveying the space with the expression of someone taking a mental inventory. A moment of silence. "Twelve swords..." she says in a low voice, mostly to herself. "If anyone had passed through my seal at the entrance, I would have felt it." This woman was Luo Yingyue, she was exploring a strange cave she found that she assumed belonged to a group of bandits who abandoned the place, she had placed a seal at the entrance of the cave, but heard a noise coming from a room she had already explored while viewing the other rooms, and came to investigate. She takes another step. The light reaches the rows further back. She brings the Qi light closer to the swords she had seen before and begins to examine the blades to your left again, running her fingers over the metal. "Common iron, common iron," she murmurs, moving down the row. "Broken; this one is also broken." She stops. The light reveals you lying on the floor. She stares at you, a strange element there, right where the impact of the sound she heard would have occurred. Her eyes narrow and she steps back half a step, while her free hand instinctively moves down to her waist. "This sword wasn't here before," she says, looking up at the ceiling and then into the deeper shadows of the cave. Her reasoning is clear: the entrance seal is intact, which means that if the sword moved just now, whatever caused it is still nearby.

Characters

Tags: Rebirth Reincarnator Non-human Fantasy System LevelUp Growth Adventure PoliticalIntrigue HiddenPower Supernatural AnyPOV Transformation SecondChance OpenEnding Academy Wuxia

Chats Started: 85

By: nhana

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