Chapter 27: The Skyward Staircase: Scripted Sword Flight Sparks Controversy

Shen Yan stood beneath the Inquiry Archway, his legs still trembling as if he had just been pulled from a washing machine. Sweat trickled down his temples, causing his black-framed glasses to slide to the tip of his nose. He reached up to adjust them, the cracks on his phone screen flickering wildly, when suddenly a line of green text popped up on the terminal: 【Detected abnormal gravitational acceleration. Run “Automated Sword Flight Script”?】

He stared at the words for three seconds, muttering under his breath, “Why didn’t you say so earlier? Reminding me now is no different from a client making last-minute demands before launch.”

Gasping for breath, he glanced back at the path he had climbed. The three hundred stone steps had long been swallowed by mist and clouds. Relying on the bit of floating power Ye Zhao had lent him to reach the top, he now barely had the strength to lift a finger. Looking down at his phone, he recalled her words during the climb: “A true Sword Cultivator relies on the resonance between heart and sword.” The corner of his mouth twitched.

“My heart is trembling, and my sword is in my pocket—how am I supposed to resonate?”

As the words left his lips, he swiped his fingertip and tapped confirm.

【Script loading… Initializing Spiritual Power interface】 【Binding Host consciousness stream】 【Initiating PID posture balance module】

Blue light spilled from the edges of his phone, instantly coalescing into a translucent sword of light that steadily supported the soles of his feet. Shen Yan felt his body lighten as he slowly rose from the ground.

Gasps erupted from the surrounding observation platforms.

“What kind of treasure is that?”

“He flew up here with a broken phone?”

“This isn’t Sword Flight—it’s cutting corners!”

Several Steward Disciples turned pale with anger. One of them directly formed a Hand Seal, sending a Sword Qi slash straight at Shen Yan, aiming to blast him off the light sword.

Without even lifting an eyelid, Shen Yan tapped twice in the air, murmuring, “Gravity compensation ×1.5, dynamic air resistance correction, plus an anti-interference filter—done.”

The light sword’s trajectory adjusted slightly, gliding like a cursor across a keyboard, effortlessly dodging the Sword Qi and accelerating upward instead. A Data Stream-like blue light pierced through the clouds, leaving a clear flight path in its wake.

“This isn’t Sword Flight—it’s programming a route!” someone shouted.

“He didn’t use Sword Intent at all, relying entirely on external tools!” another angrily rebuked.

But no one could stop him. The light sword precisely avoided all intercepting spiritual pressures, its speed growing steadier, its posture as smooth as if rehearsed a thousand times.

Suspended mid-air, Shen Yan adjusted parameters while talking to himself, “Code isn’t about laziness—it’s about making the impossible possible. You train for ten years to fly; I write a ten-minute script to make it work. Who’s more efficient?”

He looked up. The cloud-top platform was now within sight. An ancient stone stele stood at its center, its surface carved with Runes—the very “Sword Stele” the Sword Sect used to assess entry qualifications.

The light sword touched down. Shen Yan’s feet met the ground, the blue light receded, and his phone automatically locked. He let out a long sigh, wiping away sweat, and was about to put away his Device when suddenly—

Hum!

The Sword Stele trembled violently, its surface Runes lighting up one by one, finally converging into two seal-script characters: Top Grade.

The entire arena fell silent.

A white-bearded Elder frowned and stepped forward, scrutinizing the Sword Stele for a long moment before glancing at Shen Yan. “Though you reached the summit, you did not rely on your own strength. How can this be graded? This assessment is invalid!”

Before his words faded, the Sword Stele shook again, its glow intensifying. The characters for “Top Grade” deepened on their own, as if carved deep into the stone.

The Elder’s expression changed.

Ye Zhao had appeared at the edge of the platform at some point. Her gaze swept over the crowd as she said calmly, “The Sword Stele possesses its own Spiritual Awareness. It only recognizes results, not methods.”

She looked toward Shen Yan, her voice soft yet clear enough to reach everyone present. “It says you passed.”

Shen Yan didn’t speak. He simply slipped his phone into his pocket and adjusted his glasses with a raised hand. Behind the lenses, his gaze was steady, carrying a hint of sharpness that was hard to detect.

The surrounding disciples exchanged glances. Some were unconvinced and opened their mouths to argue, but were pulled back by those beside them. “What do you know? The Sword Stele hasn’t moved for a thousand years! The last time it lit up on its own was three hundred years ago when the Sword Ancestor himself appeared!”

“But he used a phone to fly up here…”

“So what? Flying up is still flying up.”

Shen Yan heard these discussions and merely smiled. He knew these people weren’t convinced by him—they were convinced by the Sword Stele. But it didn’t matter. As long as the result stood, how it was achieved wasn’t important.

He turned to look at Ye Zhao and found her staring at him, her expression complex, as if she had something to say but swallowed it back.

“Thank you,” he said. “If it weren’t for your statement earlier that ‘assistance from companions doesn’t count as external force,’ I might still be hesitating over whether to press that button.”

Ye Zhao was momentarily taken aback before turning her face away. “I was just stating a fact.”

“Oh, a fact,” Shen Yan nodded. “Well, the fact tells me your ears are a little red right now.”

Ye Zhao shot him a sharp glare, then turned and walked away. “The assessment is over. Follow me to register your name.”

Shen Yan followed with a smile, his steps noticeably lighter. After just a few steps, his Terminal popped up another Notice: 【Detected unknown homologous Signal source. Distance: 1,800 meters. Energy signature: highly similar to Host】

He paused mid-step.

This Signal… was exactly the same as the one before Ye Shi’er appeared that day.

He discreetly scanned his surroundings. The Cloud Summit platform offered an unobstructed view—distant mountain ranges, nearby disciples coming and going—everything seemed normal.

But he knew something was off.

He quietly pulled up the Background Process List and discovered a hidden Thread attempting to access the “Cloud Ascension Stairs” Restriction Seal system. Its path was disguised as the Sword Sect’s internal network Protocol. If not for his Source Code Spiritual Root’s innate Decompilation sniffing ability, he would never have noticed.

“Who’s tampering with my Script?” he narrowed his eyes.

Just as he was thinking this, Ye Zhao suddenly stopped ahead.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

Ye Zhao didn’t answer. Instead, she slowly drew Frost Soul Sword, its tip pointing toward a stone pillar at the edge of the platform.

There, a crow perched quietly, its feathers pitch-black, but its eyes blood-red.

Shen Yan’s heart skipped a beat.

He remembered this bird—the last time he saw it was the night before the Medicine Valley’s poison mist erupted.

The crow tilted its head to look at him, then suddenly opened its beak and let out a very short cry, like some kind of Encoding Signal.

In the next instant, it spread its wings and flew toward the back mountain.

Ye Zhao sheathed her sword, her tone turning cold. “After midnight, no one is allowed to enter the back mountain Forbidden Land without permission.”

“I know,” Shen Yan nodded. “But I’m guessing you’re going.”

She glanced back at him but didn’t deny it. “If you dare to come, don’t bring your phone.”

With that, she turned and left, her figure blending into the mist and clouds.

Shen Yan stood where he was, his fingers rubbing the edge of his phone. The cracked screen reflected half of his face and a faint smile hidden behind his glasses.

He murmured to himself, “Don’t bring my phone? Fine.”

“But I can bring a backup.”

He pulled another small-screen phone with a matte film from his inner pocket and gently pressed the Boot-Up Key.

The green text interface flashed into view: 【Source Code Spiritual Root·Offline Mode Initiated】

【Local Cache: Sword Control Script V2.3】

【Standby Command: Trace signal source, reverse infiltrate, identify intruder identity】

He tucked his phone back into his pocket, flexed his wrists, and strode toward the back mountain.

The wind lifted the hem of his grid shirt, the silver-thread soft armor gleaming faintly beneath the fabric.

(End of Chapter)