Naked Sword Art

"That's enough rest. It's time to begin."

Xiao Fang sat up slowly, his energy steadier now, his gaze calm and focused. Luo Yue stepped forward, her expression still unsure but determined. She stole a quick glance at her grandmother, then at Xiao Fang, then exhaled slowly.

"I'm ready."

"Good," Luo Biya nodded. "Then sit, both of you. Face each other."

They lowered themselves onto the courtyard's meditation mat, knees nearly touching. Luo Yue tried not to meet Xiao Fang's eyes, afraid her thoughts would betray her. But the moment their Soul Qi's began to link, all her distractions melted away.

"Close your eyes. Feel each other's soul frequency. No need to force it—let it happen naturally," Luo Biya instructed, her voice calm, like a wave guiding their rhythm.

Xiao Fang's breathing steadied, and Luo Yue followed. Slowly, tendrils of soul Qi began to form between them—subtle at first, then increasingly vivid. Golden threads danced between their bodies like fireflies, drawn by a magnetic pulse neither of them controlled. That was the beginning of [ Soul Merge ]'s Partial Entanglement.

"Very good," Luo Biya said with a note of surprise. "Most cultivators struggle to connect this quickly."

Xiao Fang felt it too—the smooth synchronization of energy, the gentle pull of Luo Yue's soul brushing against his own. It was warm. Familiar. As if they'd done this many times before in another life.

Luo Yue's breathing became slightly erratic as she felt his soul caress hers in return—his energy was warm, calm, and welcoming, drawing her in like a current in deep water.

"Now," Luo Biya said, standing facing them, "Let's begin the final step—Full Entanglement."

Their training would be difficult, but they were confident in their own abilities and each other's.

.

.

.

Later that evening…

In the highest spire of the Soul Devouring Clan, Luo Yue's grandfather stood alone in his observatory chamber, gazing out over the distant glow of the Inner Court. The stars shimmered above, but his thoughts were far from the heavens.

A soft knock broke the silence.

"Enter," he said without turning.

The door creaked open, and a young woman stepped in—her robes black and crimson, flowing like liquid night. Her steps made no sound, but her presence was undeniable.

"Elder Luo," she greeted with a slight bow, her voice ringing like a crystal chime. "My name is Yin Fei, of the Dual Cultivation clan. I came in response to your letter. It's a pleasure to meet you."

Only then did the Elder turn to face her. She was beautiful, yes—but beauty was not what made him pause. It was the quiet pressure beneath her smile. The way his soul instinctively recoiled and leaned forward at the same time.

Their eyes met.

A pulse of violet shimmered in her irises.

He immediately looked away—not out of humility, but instinct. Gazing too long into the eyes of a Dual Cultivator was to invite danger. Even for someone like him.

"You're early," he said calmly.

Yin Fei's lips curled in a soft, knowing smile. "Your letter felt... intriguing. And no one ever reaches out to us. Naturally, we were curious."

Her voice was smooth—like silk over steel. And laced with something more dangerous than charm.

"…You're not an ordinary clan member," he said, narrowing his gaze.

She didn't answer. Instead, she took a slow step forward. The violet in her eyes pulsed like a heartbeat, and her words echoed faintly—too faintly—in both his ears and mind.

"I am here to serve. Tell me… what do you need?"

The Elder was perhaps one of the strongest members in his own clan, an expert in the Divine Spirit Realm, a man who had weathered centuries of cultivation, battle, and political intrigue without flinching. Yet this young woman—this Dual Cultivator—unsettled him in ways that no enemy ever had. She hadn't raised her hand, hadn't unleashed a shred of killing intent, and still… she shook him.

Her voice, her eyes, her presence—they slipped beneath his defenses like silk-wrapped daggers, bypassing strength and striking directly at the soul. That someone so young could wield such control over him with mere words was nothing short of terrifying. And yet, part of him understood. This was the might of a clan that had once ruled from the heart of the Chaos Sect's Core Court. They hadn't lost their edge—they'd simply gone quiet. And now, he was in the presence of one, and he dared raise his head to her.

Still, he straightened his back, and his voice grew firm with intent.

"There is something," he said. "Take me to your clan. I wish to speak with your Elders. I want to discuss the possibility of an alliance."

Yin Fei tilted her head, her expression unreadable. "You want to form an alliance… with us?"

"It's something we've been considering. But I'd rather speak to your Elders directly. Can you take me to them?"

She paused, her eyes thoughtful. It wasn't her place to make decisions on behalf of the clan, but what troubled her was the memory of the old restrictions. For an entire generation—or at least under the rule of the former Patriarch of the Chaos sect—alliances had been strictly forbidden. No outsiders were allowed to approach, much less form ties with them. But now that he's gone… was such a thing even possible? That era was over. Still, old habits die hard.

After a few moments of silence, Yin Fei finally smiled again.

"I'd be glad to take you," she said. "Are you ready to go now?"

Yin Fei's smile lingered, but Elder Luo raised a hand before answering.

"Wait," he said. "I won't go alone. I want my granddaughter to come with me."

Yin Fei arched a brow, mildly surprised. "Very well. I'll wait here."

Without another word, his body shifted silently before it vanished.

…

A few moments later, Elder Luo appeared in the courtyard where he knew Luo Yue and Xiao Fang were training the [ Soul Merge ] technique.

But when he arrived, only Luo Yue was there—seated in perfect stillness, eyes closed, her hands resting gently in her lap. The air around her shimmered softly, subtle waves of soul energy rippling outward like the echo of a silent bell.

Xiao Fang was nowhere in sight.

Standing nearby, Luo Biya watched her granddaughter with a faint, knowing smile, arms folded. She turned her head as her husband approached.

"I know I'm early," he said, keeping his voice low. "How's it going?"

"Husband…" Luo Biya's eyes narrowed slightly, not at him, but at something beside him. "Is that—?"

He followed her gaze—and froze.