The countless remnants overlapped, filling the chamber like an invisible ocean.
Li Yan immediately withdrew his Spiritual Sense. A faint headache appeared.
The overwhelming flood of information had struck his consciousness before he could properly prepare.
"Careful." Jian Ling's voice sounded nearby. "Most visitors make the same mistake."
Li Yan rubbed his temples. "Thousands of Sword Intents…"
Jian Ling nodded. "The Insight Hall preserves fragments of comprehension left behind by generations of swordsmen."
Her gaze slowly swept across the chamber. "Every item here once belonged to a swordsman. A disciple, an elder, a sect master, or an enemy."
Li Yan looked around once more. This time, his gaze carried a different meaning. The objects no longer appeared ordinary. Each platform represented a life.
A swordsman's journey.
A swordsman's understanding.
A swordsman's legacy.
Even the most insignificant-looking stone might contain the final realization of someone who had devoted their entire life to the Sword Path.
Slowly, Li Yan approached the nearest platform. Resting upon it was a broken sword.
The blade had shattered near its center. Rust covered much of its surface, and time had long since erased any sign of former glory.
Yet a single inscription remained visible.
Swift Wind Sword Intent.
Li Yan's eyes lingered upon the words. Then he reached toward the sword.
Before his fingers could touch the blade, Jian Ling spoke. "Do not force comprehension."
Li Yan paused, then asked, "What do you mean?"
Her tone stayed composed as she explained, "The Insight Hall isn't meant to replicate others. Its purpose is to broaden your perspective, observe different paths, learn from them, and compare them."
Then her gaze settled directly upon him. "But if you attempt to imitate everything you see, you will eventually lose your own path."
Li Yan nodded slowly. The warning made perfect sense.
Sword Intent belonged to the individual. Borrowing inspiration was natural. Learning from others was valuable. Blind imitation, however, was no different from abandoning one's own understanding.
Only after considering her words did Li Yan place his hand upon the broken sword, but just to witness the path of this Sword Intent, not to copy.
The moment contact was established, a surge of information entered his mind. The chamber vanished. The surrounding world disappeared.
For an instant, Li Yan found himself standing atop a windswept mountain peak. The sky stretched endlessly above. Clouds drifted beneath his feet. Not far away stood a swordsman dressed in green robes.
The man's face was unclear, hidden behind the distortions of memory and time. Yet his movements were perfectly visible.
Without speaking, the swordsman drew his blade. Then he struck—a single sword strike.
Nothing more. The blade moved. The world blurred. The strike was so fast that Li Yan almost failed to perceive it.
It resembled a gust of wind crossing the heavens.
Silent. Swift. Unrestrained.
The next moment, the vision shattered.
Li Yan blinked.
The mountain disappeared. The swordsman vanished. The stone chamber returned. The entire experience had lasted less than a breath.
Yet the fragment remained vivid within his memory.
His eyes widened slightly. "So this is…"
"An Insight Echo." Jian Ling completed the sentence.
"The stronger the remnant left behind, the clearer the echo becomes."
Li Yan slowly lowered his hand. His heartbeat had accelerated slightly.
A genuine excitement appeared in his eyes. The Knowledge Hall taught principles. The Insight Hall revealed reality.
One explained the sword. The other allowed him to witness the sword directly through the eyes of those who had walked the path before him.
The difference was immeasurable.
Li Yan's gaze swept across the countless platforms scattered throughout the Insight Hall. Broken swords, weathered stone tablets, fragments of armor, and rocks bearing ancient sword scars filled the chamber. Every object preserved within this place contained traces of a swordsman's understanding, representing countless years of accumulated wisdom.
At that moment, Li Yan finally understood the warning Jian Ling had given him earlier.
The purpose of the Insight Hall was not to provide ready-made answers or allow a cultivator to inherit the paths of others. Rather, it existed to broaden one's horizons.
Every inheritance here offered a different perspective on the Sword Path, but none were meant to replace a swordsman's own understanding. If he tried to absorb every Sword Intent he encountered, his path would eventually become a tangled collection of borrowed ideas, losing the clarity needed for true advancement.
As Li Yan stood there, Jian Ling's voice awakened him from his thoughts.
"Most who enter the Insight Hall for the first time are drawn to the strongest inheritances they can find. They seek the most powerful Sword Intents and attempt to comprehend everything before them. In the end, they gain little and lose much."
Her gaze moved across the chamber. "The sword belongs to its wielder. Understanding gained from others may serve as guidance, but it cannot become the foundation of your path."
Li Yan silently agreed.
Throughout his cultivation journey, every meaningful advancement had come through his own understanding. The experiences of others could illuminate possibilities, but they could never replace personal understanding.
After a brief silence, he asked, "Can every inheritance here be accessed?"
"Most can," Jian Ling replied. "Some require higher authority within the tower. Others require a stronger foundation in swordsmanship. Some inheritances reject those they deem unworthy."
As she spoke, her gaze shifted toward the center of the hall. Following her line of sight, Li Yan noticed a platform he had overlooked earlier.
It stood apart from the others, surrounded by dozens of dormant formations. Resting at its center was a complete sword.
Unlike the damaged relics scattered throughout the chamber, this sword remained pristine despite the passage of countless years.
The moment Li Yan focused on it, he felt an overwhelming Sword Intent pressing against his senses.
His pupils contracted. The pressure far exceeded that of anything else in the hall.
"What is it?" he asked.
Jian Ling remained silent for several moments before answering. "One of the Sovereign Inheritances."
Li Yan's expression grew more serious. The title alone revealed its significance.
"And its owner?"
"A Sword Sovereign." Her voice remained calm. "A true one."
Li Yan looked at the sword once more.
Even after countless years, the remnant aura left behind by its owner remained powerful enough to suppress every other inheritance in the hall.
The difference in level was obvious.
Without thinking, he asked, "Can I access it?"
Jian Ling looked at him, then at the sword, before returning her gaze to him.
"No." The answer came without the slightest hesitation.
Li Yan could only smile helplessly.
Jian Ling continued, "Your current Spiritual Consciousness would not withstand the inheritance. You would likely suffer severe damage before receiving even a fraction of its insights."
That immediately ended any thoughts he had regarding the matter. Curiosity was one thing. Recklessness was another.
Seeing that he had accepted the explanation, Jian Ling nodded slightly before pointing toward another section of the hall. "There."
Several dozen platforms occupied a separate area not far from the Swift Wind Sword Intent inheritance he had experienced earlier. Unlike many others, these platforms emitted a faint silver glow.
"The inheritances are suitable for your current level."
Li Yan's interest immediately shifted. This was far more practical. As he approached, the names carved into the platforms gradually became visible.
Mountain Shield Sword Intent.
Flowing Water Sword Intent.
Silent Shadow Sword Intent.
Flame Burst Sword Intent.
And many others.
Each represented a different path, a different philosophy, and a different swordsman's understanding.
Li Yan's gaze eventually settled on one particular platform.
Silent Shadow Sword Intent.
The inheritance naturally attracted his attention. Its concepts aligned closely with his Darkness affinity and his preference for concealment, patience, and precise strikes.
Without hesitation, he stepped forward and placed his hand upon the ancient stone. The moment contact was established, the world around him dissolved.
The Insight Hall vanished. Jian Ling disappeared. Darkness swallowed everything.
No light remained. No sound could be heard. Even the sensation of wind was absent.
Li Yan stood alone within an endless void of silence. He immediately understood what was happening.
Another Insight Echo had begun.
For a brief moment, Li Yan felt as though he had entered a world abandoned by the heavens.
Darkness stretched endlessly in every direction. There was no wind, no sound, and no sense of distance. The silence was so complete that even time itself seemed to lose meaning.
Then a figure appeared.
The man wore black robes, his face concealed beneath a hood. A sword rested quietly in his hand.
Nothing about him appeared remarkable. Yet Li Yan's eyes narrowed slightly.
The swordsman stood directly before him, but his presence felt strangely elusive. It was as though he existed within the darkness while simultaneously remaining apart from it. Li Yan could see him clearly, yet his instincts struggled to grasp his location.
The black-robed swordsman began walking.
His movements were unhurried.
No Qi fluctuations appeared around him. No movement technique was activated. Yet with each step, his figure seemed to blur before quietly reappearing elsewhere.
Li Yan watched carefully.
The swordsman was not disappearing. Nor was he moving at extraordinary speed. Instead, he was blending into the darkness so naturally that his movements became difficult to follow. The shadows did not conceal him. They seemed to welcome him.
Every step was precise. Every movement served a purpose. There was no wasted effort and no unnecessary action.
Several moments later, another figure emerged from the darkness.
An opponent.
The black-robed swordsman stopped. He neither attacked nor revealed himself. He simply waited.
The opponent moved through the darkness, completely unaware of the danger nearby. Only when the distance between them reached the perfect point did the swordsman move.
A faint flash of sword light appeared. The battle ended instantly. The sword returned to its sheath. The darkness swallowed everything once more.
Then the scene changed. Another opponent appeared. A different environment. A different situation. Yet the outcome never changed. The swordsman always observed first.
Waited. Prepared.
Only after victory was already assured did he draw his sword. The strike itself was never complicated.
No dazzling techniques. No overwhelming displays of power.
Only precision. Only certainty.
Gradually, Li Yan found his attention drifting away from the sword itself. What interested him was not the attack. It was everything that came before it.
The patience. The restraint. The control.
The swordsman never pursued opportunities. He allowed them to develop naturally. He never forced an opening. He waited until one appeared. The darkness was not merely a tool for concealment. It was part of the swordsman's understanding.
A battlefield prepared long before the sword was drawn. And the sword itself was merely the final step.
As that realization settled in his mind, Li Yan felt a faint resonance within his own Sword Intent.
It was not evolving. Nor was it changing. Yet it responded instinctively to the understanding before him.
He truly understood the value of the Insight Hall. The Silent Shadow Sword Intent was not his path.
It never would be. His Sword Intent was rooted in Defiance and Judgment. Its nature differed fundamentally from the path before him. Yet understanding did not require imitation.
A swordsman could learn from another path without abandoning his own. The black-robed swordsman had shown him a perspective he had previously overlooked.
Li Yan's approach to battle often favored confrontation. He preferred to face obstacles head-on and break through them with strength, will, and conviction.
There was nothing wrong with that. Yet watching this swordsman revealed another truth.
Not every battle was won by advancing first. Sometimes victory belonged to the one who could wait longer than his opponent.
The realization quietly settled within his heart. Soon afterward, the vision began to fade. The endless darkness slowly dissolved.
The black-robed swordsman stopped walking. Then, for the first time since the vision began, he turned toward Li Yan.
Though his face remained hidden beneath the hood, Li Yan felt as though the ancient swordsman was looking directly at him.
Neither approval nor rejection could be sensed from that gaze.
Only acknowledgment.
A moment later, the swordsman gave a slight nod. Then the world shattered. Li Yan opened his eyes.
The Insight Hall reappeared around him. His hand still rested upon the stone platform. Several breaths passed before he slowly withdrew it.
A thoughtful expression appeared on his face. "I see."
Nearby, Jian Ling observed him quietly. "You gained something."