Transmigrating as the Heart Demon of the Ruthless Sword Venerable – Chapter 1
by Little PandaTransmigrated
And Then Got Killed
Have you ever died?
A long sword pierced through the body. The blade sliced through skin and fat as smoothly as cutting through thin paper. Muscles twitched faintly, vainly trying to grip the blade, only to be forced apart. The cold sword threaded through muscle, slipped past bone, punctured organs, and emerged from behind.
The lungs belatedly registered the piercing pain. Each breath dragged blood upward, bloody foam welling up from the throat so fiercely it seemed it would choke the airway entirely.
“Cough…”
Tang Wenchun opened her mouth, and blood dripped from the corner of her lips. She raised her eyes. The girl before her looked no more than sixteen or seventeen, hair pulled high into a ponytail, a green gold-traced forehead band1 tied around her brow. Her brows were striking and bold, her gaze cold and detached.
“Why… why…”
Tang Wenchun considered herself someone who had lived twenty years at peace with the world, having never offended anyone. Why had she appeared here out of nowhere, only to be killed by a girl wielding a long sword?
Was this some kind of psychopathic killer? And such a young girl, too…
Tang Wenchun reached toward the girl. Her fingers were stained with her own blood, and even lifting her arm was slow and hesitant—a stark contrast to the girl’s resolute, decisive expression.
“Why did you…”
Her fingertips brushed the girl’s cheek. The touch was soft and smooth, like a tender spring bud, carrying a faint warmth. Her fingertips quickly lost their strength, tracing a thin, long red streak down the girl’s cheek in vain.
“It… hurts so much…”
The faint moan reached the girl’s ears. A flicker of bewilderment surfaced in her eyes, then shifted into hesitation. She pulled the long sword free. The cold blade dragged through muscle with a wet, grating sound. Tang Wenchun threw her head back with a pained groan.
The pain she had started growing accustomed to only intensified, tearing at her nerves, churning her very soul.
And then everything sank into darkness.
How did she end up in something like this? Just moments ago, she had been at her desk, typing furiously, indignantly cursing out the novel she had been reading—she had not even finished her rant yet!
A slightly husky voice came from the darkness—young, yet already coated in an icy detachment: “Reporting to Shizun2, your disciple’s Golden Core3 is formed.”
“Worthy indeed of the Innate Sword Bone4. The future of my Sword Sect rests on you.”
Sword Sect…? What a generic name…
She…
must be dreaming…
Tang Wenchun was pulled into the darkness. It wrapped around her like the gentlest caress, making her feel safe and secure.
So she had died in a dream, and was about to wake up?
This absurd murder was too cruel. When she woke again, she would surely be back in her warm bed, acting sweet to her mother, saying—
“Mom, I had such a scary, so-real nightmare.”
Tang Wenchun opened her eyes. The sky was a murky color—impossible to tell if it was sunny or rainy. There was no sunlight, yet the surroundings were still bathed in a vast whiteness.
“I’m… still not awake?”
She looked around, then glanced down at where she had been pierced through. She wore unfamiliar clothes—a tight sash cinched her waist, accentuating her silhouette. The robes were embroidered with subtle patterns, neat and clean, without a single trace of blood. She placed her hand on herself and felt only the steady rhythm of her own breathing, without the slightest pain.
“So… it was all a dream, right?”
But if that was a dream, then what about this strange space Tang Wenchun now found herself in, and these strange Hanfu5 she was wearing?
Tang Wenchun looked down. She was sitting on a patch of grass, green blades poking through her fingers, swaying gently. But she could not feel the soft touch of the grass, nor smell the scent of earth and greenery. It lent everything an unreal quality.
“I’m… still dreaming?”
Tang Wenchun looked around, increasingly panicked. This dream was far too real, yet the tactile sensations were completely absent. She stood up. She was on a lawn roughly the size of a small courtyard, dotted with grass, pine trees, and rocks, looking quite antiquarian.
But farther out, dense white fog obscured the view.
Tang Wenchun quickly scanned her surroundings. There wasn’t much to see, so her gaze settled on the white fog.
Should she enter the white fog?
Tang Wenchun hesitated. In this eerie environment, the white fog was so thick she couldn’t see what lay inside. If she went in, she might lose even this small safe haven.
Tang Wenchun pinched her cheek hard. The pain was strikingly sharp. She hissed. If this was a dream, it… it hurt way too much.
But if it wasn’t a dream, then where was she? Why was there no one around? What was the white fog outside?
Tang Wenchun thought for a moment, looked around, and called out softly: “System?”
No one answered her.
Tang Wenchun drew on her extensive novel-reading experience, thought some more, and continued: “Main God?”
Still no answer.
Tang Wenchun stared down at her antique-style clothes, thinking hard for a long while, then continued: “Heavenly Dao?”
Still no response.
Then again, Tang Wenchun considered herself perfectly ordinary—average luck, average grades. There was no reason she would encounter the kind of heaven-sent fortune from novels.
Tang Wenchun stared at the white fog and sighed. “Where am I, really? If only someone would just tell me.”
The moment she finished speaking, the white fog suddenly churned and roiled, as if a storm had erupted inside. Tang Wenchun startled and scrambled behind a rock. She peered out tremblingly, only to see scenes appear on the white fog like a movie screen.
It was an enormous bird, shaped like an eagle but with crest feathers atop its head. The giant bird spread its wings, blotting out the sun. Flames extended from its tail feathers, illuminating the sky it had overshadowed.
It opened its beak—full of sharp teeth—and let out a piercing shriek. The sound waves seemed to take on physical form, making the entire expanse of white fog ripple.
Tang Wenchun ducked back behind the rock in fright, then cautiously poked her head out to keep watching. She noticed several people in ancient-style clothing below the giant bird.
Compared to the hill-sized bird, they looked as insignificant as ants. Yet Tang Wenchun’s gaze still fell on those figures.
No—more precisely, on the girl at their head.
The girl stood with her back to Tang Wenchun, shielding the people behind her in a protective stance. Her long sword was aimed at the giant bird—like a mantis trying to stop a chariot6. Yet Tang Wenchun could still see a fierce fighting spirit in that upright silhouette. Her entire being was like a drawn blade, radiating the innate lethality of a weapon and an unstoppable, unyielding will to fight.
“…So cool…”
Tang Wenchun couldn’t help but murmur.
The people shielded behind the girl called out, their voices filled with uncontrollable fear and worry.
“Go, all of you! I’ll catch up in a moment.” The girl turned her head. Her green gold-traced forehead band’s ribbons fluttered in the wind. The gale swept back her bangs, revealing those striking, sword-like brows and those bright, sharp eyes. Her face—still touched with a trace of baby fat—was set with absolute solemnity.
“…It’s her.”
Tang Wenchun remembered that face. Not long ago, it was she who had held the long sword that pierced through her body. Tang Wenchun’s gaze couldn’t help but fall on the girl’s sword. The long sword was simple and unadorned, its surface covered with diamond-patterned lattice marks—yes, it was the same one that had stabbed her.
Tang Wenchun felt a phantom pain in her own abdomen.
The girl quickly turned back. With a powerful enemy before her, she couldn’t afford to be distracted. She formed a hand seal with one hand and gave a sharp call: “Rise!”
“Sword come — Hundred Rivers Converge8!!”
As the words fell, the long sword trembled, then in an instant split into two, then three—until a hundred long swords formed a sword array, suspended in midair, glowing faintly, every tip pointed straight at the giant bird.
The giant bird had never suffered such a threat. It immediately let out a piercing shriek, flames forming in its maw. Its colossal wings beat up a gale, and fire and wind surged toward the girl together.
Tang Wenchun stared with wide eyes. She truly thought she must be dreaming. Otherwise, how could she explain this grand and bizarre sight before her?
It was like watching a VFX blockbuster up close.
Yet she couldn’t help but keep watching the girl. She was still worried. The opponent was so terrifying—how could this girl, small as a mayfly, shake such a colossal beast?
The two collided.
The white fog shook and roiled. The girl was thrown back, her entire body hurtling backward. But she remained composed in the face of danger. She lifted her head—only a single crest feather had been sliced off the giant bird’s head.
She looked up, meeting the giant bird’s gaze. The web of her hand had split and bled, yet she still gripped the long sword tightly, as though she were a blade that would never bend.
The giant bird hesitated for a moment, then ultimately changed course and flew back the way it had come.
“Eldest Senior Sister, are you alright!”
The group who had been hiding in the distance finally ran over and helped the girl up. The girl gave a retch, finally spitting out the blood she had been forcing down. But she couldn’t afford to dwell on it.
“Hurry, let’s go,” she said. “I only startled this demon beast9 away. Once it comes to its senses, it will certainly come back for us.”
The others assented in unison. They took flight on their swords, carrying the girl as they sped forward low to the ground. Someone behind swept some kind of powder behind them, its purpose unknown.
They sped like this for several tens of li10, then found a cave and ducked inside, building a fire. The group was clearly experienced with wilderness survival. Through their conversations, Tang Wenchun also learned that among the disciples, the one who could hold a proper conversation besides the girl was named Han Dan. There was also a female cultivator named Bian Man, who seemed to dislike the girl and always kept her distance.
It seemed the group was safe. Tang Wenchun watched and felt a slight relief. She stole a glance at the girl.
The girl was sitting cross-legged, regulating her breath in meditation.
“Eldest Senior Sister11, this is a Huichun Pill12. Take one first.” Han Dan offered a porcelain vial.
“Thank you, Han-shidi13.” The girl expressed her thanks but didn’t take it immediately.
Han Dan said in a low voice: “With this Nascent Soul14 bird demon on our tails, can we still get out of the Secret Realm15?”
“We still have Eldest Senior Sister,” another replied.
Han Dan gave a bitter smile. “Eldest Senior Sister is only at Early Golden Core…”
“If we’d left as soon as we noticed something was off, it wouldn’t have come to this…”
Everyone’s faces were grim, and they said no more.
The girl opened her eyes and looked at them. “I gained some insight from my encounter with the bird demon. I want to attempt a breakthrough now. Once I break through, we’ll be much safer.”
“Eldest Senior Sister, your Golden Core only just formed! Rushing a breakthrough now might damage your foundation!” a disciple immediately spoke up.
The girl’s gaze was resolute. Her voice was slightly husky, carrying a maturity beyond her years: “Sword cultivators can fight above their level. A breakthrough right now is my best option.”
The group exchanged glances. They had stepped onto the path of cultivation seeking immortality, not to die young halfway there. The girl was right. Right now, they could only rely on her to get through this crisis.
The disciples gripped their long swords and bowed to the girl: “We will stand guard for Eldest Senior Sister!”
The girl nodded. She glanced at the medicine in her hand, tilted her head back, and swallowed it, then began channeling her qi to attempt her breakthrough.
Tang Wenchun watched curiously as the white fog gradually grew hazy, and those scenes slowly faded away. She pondered carefully but couldn’t figure out the reason. But now her surroundings had quieted again. Unable to leave, she could only sit there in a daze.
After who knows how long, the white fog churned once more. Tang Wenchun sensed something and snapped to her feet. But this time, it wasn’t a scene that appeared—it was a figure, materializing out of thin air.
The moment she saw that familiar silhouette and the long sword in the figure’s hand, Tang Wenchun shuddered and ducked behind the rock. It was the girl who had killed her. How could she be here?!
But the girl’s gaze was sharp as a torch, fixing on Tang Wenchun.
“Who’s there!”
Tang Wenchun poked her head out and stammered: “I—I’m not a bad person, I…”
Before she could finish, the girl flicked her wrist. The long sword flashed with cold light, hurtling straight toward Tang Wenchun.
Tang Wenchun’s eyes went wide.
Again… seriously?
The author has something to say:
New story! This is the first protagonist I’ve written who gets a double kill right in the opening chapter, welcome!
Yu Zhaoming: …
Author: How does it feel to kill your wife twice?
Yu Zhaoming: …
Author: …
Tang Wenchun: …
Author: Alright, thank you everyone for reading!! Please look forward to more.
As usual, updates every day at 8 PM!!
Footnotes
- A forehead band with gold tracery, worn as a decorative accessory.
- A cultivation-specific title for one's master in a sect, carrying deeper cultural weight than the English word 'Master.'
- A major cultivation stage above Foundation Establishment and below Nascent Soul; forming a Golden Core is a significant milestone for cultivators.
- An innate constitution that makes one naturally gifted for sword cultivation—a rare and prized trait.
- Traditional Chinese clothing; a modern term for historical Han Chinese attire.
- A Chinese idiom meaning 'overreaching' or 'futile resistance,' from the image of a tiny mantis trying to stop a massive chariot with its arm.
- Eldest Senior Sister—the most senior female disciple in a sect, a title of respect.
- A sword technique incantation — 'Sword come, Hundred Rivers Converge,' evoking many rivers flowing into one point as the sword multiplies and converges into a formation.
- A supernatural beast in cultivation worlds, often hostile to cultivators and classified by cultivation level.
- A traditional Chinese distance unit, approximately 500 meters.
- Eldest Senior Sister—the most senior female disciple in a sect, a title of respect.
- A medicinal pill for healing and recovery; 'huichun' literally means 'return of spring.'
- A sect honorific for a junior male disciple, attached to a surname with a hyphen.
- A major cultivation stage above Golden Core, signifying significantly greater power.
- A special dimension or area in cultivation worlds, often containing dangers and treasures.
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