As the New Year approached, snowflakes drifted gently over Winterfell City, covering its buildings in a soft white blanket.
The streets were quieter than usual, with fewer pedestrians, as most had already retreated indoors to escape the cold.
Only the snow-clearing robots moved through the city, performing their tasks with mechanical precision, just as they did every day.
Red lanterns and decorations had already been hung across the city in preparation for the festival.
Against the backdrop of pure white snow, the crimson ornaments stood out brightly—though the New Year had not yet arrived, the festive atmosphere was already palpable.
On the eastern side of Winterfell City, atop the Winterfell Central Tower, a youthful figure sat lazily on the edge of the rooftop.
Her left hand gripped a handful of sizzling skewers, and as she munched contentedly, her legs dangled freely over the side, swinging back and forth in rhythm with each bite.
"Mm… delicious!"
With an expression of pure enjoyment, she gazed down at the night-lit cityscape, savoring the view just as much as the food.
Before long, the skewers in her hand had all been devoured.
She licked away the remaining seasoning from the corner of her lips, about to praise the meal when—suddenly—her expression stiffened.
Her brows furrowed.
She slowly stood up, turning her gaze toward the northern district of Winterfell City.
Through the flurry of falling snow, her eyes pierced the distance, locking onto something unseen to the ordinary eye.
With a casual flick of her wrist, the silver bracelet coiled around her right wrist shimmered.
In an instant, it transformed into a silver-white lance, glowing brilliantly in her palm.
The weapon was six feet long, its shaft engraved with the image of a silver dragon, coiling around its length.
A red tassel and a black battle flag dangled just below the spearhead, swaying slightly in the wind.
Still peering toward the northern district, a glint of curiosity flashed across her face.
"This sword intent is… strong."
"Domain Creature?"
Without hesitation, she channeled her strength, then hurled the silver lance in the direction of her gaze.
It tore through the wind and snow, vanishing in an instant.
Towering mushroom-shaped buildings, constructed from steel and reinforced concrete, loomed over the industrial zone.
At the heart of the processing site, massive steel machines rumbled continuously, their deafening roars shaking the very air.
A thick, pungent scent of metal and minerals filled the surroundings.
This was Winterfell City's primary ore-processing facility—an area so harsh that it had been classified as a restricted zone.
Ordinary people were forbidden from entering due to the high radiation and corrosive properties of the specialized minerals refined here.
Even the workers stationed inside wore Grade-1 protective suits, operating the machinery under strict safety protocols.
In the depths of the facility, molten red-hot metal flowed through dedicated channels, pouring into the central processing plant.
At the heart of the factory, a crimson greatsword stood upright, engulfed in raging flames.
Its blade pulsed with a glowing red hue, ceaselessly absorbing the molten metal being funneled toward it.
With each vibration of the sword, visible ripples of energy spread outward, shaking the very air.
Set into the hilt of the blade, a brilliant red gemstone pulsed like a heartbeat, releasing a soft, hazy glow that wrapped around the sword's length.
Before the flaming sword, a white-haired elder sat cross-legged, bare-chested, his aged form exposed to the intense heat.
His breath synchronized perfectly with the sword's pulsations—as he inhaled and exhaled, his strength surged, growing in tandem with the weapon's power.
At last, his eyes slowly opened.
They were hollow, devoid of any visible life force.
With a casual movement, he extended his withered hand toward the sword embedded in the ground.
The moment his fingers touched the hilt, the transformation began.
His snow-white hair darkened, regaining a youthful black sheen.
The deep wrinkles across his face smoothed out, his body rejuvenating before their very eyes.
A vital aura surged forth, enveloping him—his appearance shifting from that of an elderly warrior to a young man in his prime.
Feeling the restored vitality coursing through him, his gaze shifted to the black gemstone embedded in the sword's hilt.
His eyes burned with fervor.
This Miracle Stone was the reason he had led the Sword Clan back to its former glory.
But he knew… his journey was not yet complete.
The battle of fate had not yet concluded.
No matter how many mountains, rivers, or even world barriers stood between them—the Demon Blade would find him again.
Had it not been for that cursed blade, he would have already conquered numerous small worlds, expanding the Sword Clan's territory to a size rivalling the pinnacle of the Weapon Clan's past dominion—or even beyond it.
Yet, the existence of the Demon Blade remained an unrelenting thorn in his heart.
Each battle with it had shaken his swordsmanship, thrown his Sword Heart into disarray.
But those days were over.
He had finally shattered the shackles that bound his heart.
His strength had soared.
And he had long since prepared for their next encounter.
Once his plan succeeded, he would rise above all—becoming the strongest being in the history of the Sword Clan and the entire Weapon Clan.
And after the final battle with the Demon Blade, he would turn his gaze toward the invincible superpowers of the universe.
He would lead the Sword Clan toward a new pinnacle, an era of supreme dominance.
Lost in his thoughts, the flaming greatsword seemed to resonate with his burning ambition, emitting a powerful, resonant hum.
With a sweeping gesture, he commanded the remaining molten metal into the air—within moments, it was completely devoured by the sword.
With another wave of his hand, the blade floated behind him, hovering at his back like a faithful guardian.
As he stepped out of the refinery, the heavy snowfall outside blanketed the land in an endless white expanse.
His expression remained cold, indifferent as he turned his gaze to the side.
At that moment, a tall, slender woman carrying a blue longsword appeared in his line of sight.
Her voice was calm but laced with underlying tension.
"Elder, Mu Qing has orchestrated the death of one of our kin."
The Sword Elder remained impassive.
"It does not matter," he replied indifferently.
The woman narrowed her eyes, then spoke again.
"Elder, do you have confidence in defeating her?"
"I have never encountered her personally, but judging from Mu Qing's battle record, her growth rate is terrifyingly fast. Even if she is not my match now, she will certainly be able to challenge me in the future."
"Should we take this opportunity to eliminate her before she fully matures? I fear that we are raising a tiger only to be devoured later. At her current growth speed, there will come a day when she completely escapes our control."
"She is still useful to us. That time has not yet come."
Hearing these words, the woman hesitated, but after a moment, she still spoke.
"Elder, I have personally witnessed Mu Qing's growth. You must not underestimate her. Perhaps, given another hundred years... even you may not be her match."
Jian Ji's face revealed a contemplative expression. After a brief moment, he nodded.
"I understand. Once the Sword Spirit Formation plan is completed, I will personally eliminate this hidden threat."
As soon as he finished speaking, Jian Ji suddenly furrowed his brows and looked sharply to the west.
Before he could act, the slender woman beside him made the first move. The blue longsword in her arms unsheathed itself, rising into the air to intercept the silver light streaking toward them from afar.
Crack!
The moment the blue longsword clashed with the silver light, time seemed to slow down.
From the tip to the hilt, the blue sword shattered inch by inch, disintegrating into fine blue powder. The silver light pierced straight through.
At that moment, the woman coughed up a mouthful of blood. Her expression instantly withered, and with a heavy thud, she fell to her knees.
Her life-bound sword had been destroyed—it was as if an arm had been severed. The damage was severe, impacting both her physical body and her spiritual consciousness.
Jian Ji took a step forward, pressing his left hand onto the kneeling woman's shoulder while raising his right hand to point at the incoming silver light.
Instantly, the Burning Heaven Sword behind him let out a deep hum and surged forward to meet the silver projectile.
The moment the flames of Burning Heaven clashed with the silver light, a dazzling explosion erupted, illuminating the entire northern district of Winterfell City.
The falling snow was melted by the energy ripples, turning into a fine misty drizzle that rained down gently.
Jian Ji's face revealed a look of astonishment.
With a subtle motion of his fingers, Burning Heaven erupted with terrifying power. In an instant, a phantom of a blazing firebird materialized, its wings spreading wide as waves of fire surged forth, filling the sky with deafening cries that echoed through the northern district of Winterfell City.
Under the onslaught of Burning Heaven, the silver light dimmed, gradually revealing its true form.
A silver spear.
Jian Ji's expression turned icy.
Sensing his intent, Burning Heaven surged with even greater power, its force aimed at shattering the silver spear completely.
But just as it seemed inevitable, the silver spear suddenly withdrew its strength, dodging Burning Heaven's strike. The sword's fiery energy slashed across empty air, creating a massive arc of flaming sword energy.
Avoiding the attack, the silver spear spun mid-air and began returning in the direction it had come from.
Jian Ji lowered his gaze to the pale and weakened woman at his feet. Without pursuing the spear, he calmly waved his hand, recalling Burning Heaven to his side.
"Elder... was that the Shielded Armor Clan?" the woman asked weakly.
"The Shielded Armor Clan does not have warriors of this caliber," Jian Ji replied. "It seems a new force has arrived in Winterfell City. I will restore your injuries first—then, I will extend them a proper welcome."
His gaze followed the disappearing silver spear, a chilling glint flashing in his eyes.
Without hesitation, he pressed his palm against the woman's shoulder. Instantly, sword energy surged into her body, soothing her chaotic sword intent.
With a flick of his fingers toward the sky, Burning Heaven let out a deep hum, its invisible sword aura enveloping him, lifting him into the air.
Meanwhile—
Catching the returning silver spear, Mu Yan's face was filled with surprise.
"Such powerful sword intent... looks like there's quite the formidable character in Winterfell City."
With those words, she took a single step forward, her figure instantly appearing a hundred meters away in midair.
Walking through the sky, every step she took blinked her another hundred meters forward, closing the distance to the northern district at incredible speed.
Soon, the two figures met in midair.
Without hesitation, the silver spear launched forward, hurtling toward the flame-wrapped figure below.
A resonant dragon's roar echoed through the heavens as a phantom silver dragon, entirely formed of energy, materialized around the spear.
The dragon's form was astonishingly lifelike, with each scale visible in intricate detail.
Faced with Mu Yan's attack, Jian Ji merely raised a single finger.
Instantly, sword energy gathered before him, forming a rotating lotus of swords.
As the lotus spun, it unleashed waves of piercing sword energy, swirling through the falling snow as it collided with the incoming silver spear.
BOOM!
The two forces clashed, unleashing a terrifying explosion, sending out shockwaves of energy in all directions.
The silver spear retreated, returning to Mu Yan's grasp.
Meanwhile, the sword lotus shattered inch by inch, its sword energy dissipating.
After this brief exchange, both Mu Yan and Jian Ji looked equally stunned—as if they could hardly believe the strength of the opponent before them.
But the battle was far from over.
Jian Ji thrust his palm forward, and in an instant, an invisible domain field erupted outward, rapidly engulfing Mu Yan.
Within this Sword Dao Domain, countless white sword spirits formed from pure sword energy began materializing at high speed.
The air itself trembled as an overwhelming force of cutting energy surged toward Mu Yan.
Facing Jian Ji's assault, Mu Yan's expression remained playful as she lifted her silver spear and stomped its end downward into the air.
The moment the spear's tip struck the void, silver energy rippled outward, expanding in concentric waves.
Like an overwhelming tide, the energy wave grew stronger, devouring countless white sword spirits in its path, significantly reducing the oppressive force of the Sword Dao Domain.
But before the Sword Dao Domain could shatter, Jian Ji launched another attack.
Burning Heaven, engulfed in roaring flames, summoned countless sword spirits to form a grand Sword Dao Formation, which took the shape of a massive firebird, dragging an elongated tail of fire as it soared forward.
"Heh," Mu Yan let out a playful chuckle and thrust her silver spear forward.
A brief moment of silence followed before Burning Heaven and the silver spear collided.
As the two forces clashed, the gem embedded in Burning Heaven's hilt pulsed, its strength continuously rising.
Yet, to Jian Ji's shock, the silver spear withstood the full force of Burning Heaven's attack, showing no signs of breaking.
To him, this was nothing short of a miracle.
Back when Silence was shattered by the Demon Blade, he had spent years in seclusion.
It was during that time that he came to a realization—he had relied too much on external forces and had never truly wielded a sword that resonated with his own will.
Silence, though one of the three Divine Swords of the Sword Clan, was ultimately not his own.
Using it had caused cracks and flaws in his sword heart.
After gaining enlightenment, he chose to forge his own path, rather than retrace the footsteps of his ancestors.
He believed that a self-created path was the only true path of a strong cultivator.
And thus, Burning Heaven was born.
When forging his life-bound sword, he infused fragments of Silence alongside the deepest reserves of the Sword Clan and rare minerals from Winterfell City.
Compared to Silence, Burning Heaven's strength had increased more than tenfold, especially with the reinforcing gem embedded in its hilt.
More importantly, Burning Heaven grew with him, directly enhancing his physical constitution.
With each increase in Burning Heaven's power, his own strength surged accordingly.
Though his body was old, Burning Heaven allowed him to sustain his life force and retain eternal youth.
And it was Burning Heaven that held the key to his final plan.
Yet, before that plan could even begin, he had encountered a weapon capable of matching Burning Heaven.
Jian Ji's gaze landed on the silver spear, his eyes gleaming with greed.
If Burning Heaven could devour this spear, its power would undoubtedly soar to unimaginable heights.
Without hesitation, he unleashed his full strength.
The Sword Dao Domain, which had nearly collapsed moments ago, suddenly solidified, expanding at an astonishing speed into an ultra-massive domain field.
Within this newly manifested domain, a sword graveyard emerged, accompanied by towering stone sword monuments.
This was one of Jian Ji's greatest trump cards.
He had already merged the Sword Clan's ancestral Sword Graveyard into his Sword Dao Domain.
Every sword within this graveyard had once belonged to legendary ancestors, their sword intent refined into pure essence.
Thousands of swords hummed in unison, resonating with Burning Heaven's power.
The sheer density of sword intent made Mu Yan's eyes widen slightly. She took a decisive step backward and called out toward Jian Ji:
"Not fighting anymore."
But Jian Ji ignored her.
With a flick of his hand, thousands of swords surged skyward, spiraling around Burning Heaven, their energies coalescing into a blinding, devastating force.
Yet, before he could strike, Mu Yan casually patted the space behind her.
A spatial tunnel materialized out of thin air, opening directly behind her.
Without hesitation, she stepped backward, slipping through the spatial rift, completely bypassing the Sword Dao Domain's restrictions.
Just as Jian Ji reeled from her bizarre escape, a fist suddenly shot out from the still-closing space vortex, swinging wildly in his direction.
A moment later, Mu Yan's irritated voice echoed through the vortex:
"Wait till I bask in the sun for a bit—then I'll fight you properly! If I weren't still recovering my strength, you'd already be dead!"
With that, the spatial tunnel collapsed, sealing itself shut.
Staring at the now empty void, Jian Ji's expression grew icy cold.
With a simple wave of his hand, the Sword Dao Domain dissipated.
He attempted to track Mu Yan's presence, but found that she had already vanished without a trace...
Star City.
Feng Qi scrolled through the latest updates on his tablet, his eyes filled with excitement.
History had changed.
He wasn't sure when Mu Qing's sacrificial timeline would unfold, but he had already taken precautions.
To ensure that he could locate Mu Qing at the earliest opportunity, he had dispatched a covert team to Winterfell City, specifically to track her movements.
And just moments ago, they had sent back a report.
The report's origin?
A noodle shop owner's peculiar encounter.
According to the news article, the shop owner had described a mysterious young girl—one whose appearance perfectly matched Mu Qing's.
"Cough, cough!"
A surge of emotion struck Feng Qi, triggering a violent coughing fit.
"Old Feng!" Gu Sha, standing behind him, called out in alarm.
"Gu Sha, prepare for immediate departure to Winterfell City!"
Suppressing his excitement, Feng Qi issued the order.
But before he could say anything more, his vision blurred, and his body slumped forward into unconsciousness.