Chapter 5: Trial of the Aetherbound
The wind whispered through the vast expanse of the hidden temple. Xiao Lian stood at the edge of a floating platform, gazing at the Windblade's true spirit—the hovering sword pulsing with golden light atop the highest stone island.
To reach it, he had to cross a path unlike any he had ever encountered. The floating platforms drifted in random patterns, some vanishing and reappearing with the shifting wind. There were no bridges, no ropes—only the open sky below.
Yun Mei remained behind. "This trial is yours alone, Xiao Lian," she said. "The temple will test your heart. If you hesitate, you will fall. If you do not trust the wind, you will be lost."
Xiao Lian took a deep breath. There was no turning back.
He stepped forward.
The Path of the Wind
The first platform trembled as he landed. The second one was already moving away.
Too far to jump.
He closed his eyes, feeling the currents of air around him. He remembered the way he had crossed the ravine—how he had let go of his fear and allowed the wind to carry him.
He leaped.
The air wrapped around him, lifting him just enough to land on the next platform. The moment his foot touched the stone, it vanished beneath him. He pushed off again, barely catching the next platform before it, too, flickered out of existence.
The wind was shifting constantly, the platforms moving in unpredictable patterns. If he hesitated for even a moment, he would fall.
Do not resist. Move with the wind.
His body reacted instinctively, each jump feeling more natural. He was no longer moving through the air—he was part of it.
The final platform was within reach.
One last leap.
As he soared through the air, the wind shifted violently. A sudden downdraft sent him plummeting.
No!
Xiao Lian reached for his sword, summoning his qi. He slashed downward—
A burst of wind exploded beneath him, pushing him upward.
His feet touched solid ground.
He had made it.
The Voice of the Windblade
The floating island was eerily silent.
Xiao Lian stepped forward, his gaze fixed on the hovering sword. The closer he got, the more he felt its presence—something alive.
As he reached for the blade, a voice echoed through his mind.
"Do you seek power?"
Xiao Lian's breath caught. The voice was neither male nor female, neither young nor old. It was the wind itself, speaking directly into his soul.
He steadied himself. "I seek to understand my path."
A pause. Then the voice returned, softer this time.
"Then show me your resolve."
A sudden force pulled him forward. The world vanished.
The Trial of the Aetherbound
Xiao Lian opened his eyes to find himself standing in an endless sky. The floating temple was gone. There was no ground beneath him—only clouds stretching into infinity.
A figure emerged from the mist.
It was a man, tall and clad in flowing white robes embroidered with golden windswept patterns. His face was obscured by a veil of light, but Xiao Lian could feel the immense power radiating from him.
"The last Aetherbound warrior," the figure said. His voice was the same as the one that had spoken in Xiao Lian's mind. "You carry the blood of those who once commanded the wind itself. But are you worthy of their legacy?"
Before Xiao Lian could respond, the warrior raised his hand.
A gust of wind slammed into Xiao Lian, knocking him backward.
He barely caught himself before plummeting into the void.
A blade appeared in the warrior's grasp—a mirror image of the Windblade.
Xiao Lian tightened his grip on his own sword. He had no choice. He had to fight.
The warrior vanished.
Xiao Lian barely had time to react before a whirlwind of slashes came from all directions. The warrior moved like a storm—fast, relentless, unpredictable.
Xiao Lian parried, but each impact sent him skidding backward.
He's faster than me…
Another strike came from behind. Xiao Lian twisted, barely deflecting it.
"You hesitate," the warrior said. "You still think like an ordinary swordsman."
Xiao Lian's breathing was ragged. He was fighting as he always had—reacting, blocking, countering. But that was not the way of the Aetherbound.
He thought back to the battle with the assassin. How he had broken free from the Tempest Fang. How he had moved with the wind, not against it.
Xiao Lian closed his eyes.
He let go.
Aetherwind Awakens
When the warrior struck again, Xiao Lian did not block.
Instead, he moved with the wind.
His body became light, untouchable. Each attack passed harmlessly past him, as if he were nothing more than air.
Then, in a single moment of perfect clarity—he struck.
A single slash.
The warrior froze.
Slowly, he stepped back. His sword dissolved into mist.
The sky around them shifted—the endless clouds dissipating, the floating temple returning.
Xiao Lian stood once more before the Windblade's true spirit.
The voice echoed again.
"You understand now."
The sword pulsed with light, and this time, when Xiao Lian reached for it—it accepted him.
The Windblade settled into his grasp. Its power no longer a mystery, but a part of him.
The trial was over.
Xiao Lian had become one with the wind.
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