The sky of the Kalian Empire held as many wonders as the earth. Giant beasts drifted between the clouds with lazy wingbeats, and higher-realmed cultivators cut through the heavens on flying swords. Up there, the qi thickened with every breath—dense enough to hum against skin—though ordinary mortals, trapped on solid ground, would never know it. They only ever saw hints of the mysteries above.
And if they bothered to look long enough, those hints could keep them staring for days.
Today, one sight in particular dragged countless gazes upward: a massive cloud gliding over villages, towns, and entire stretches of countryside. At a glance, it looked harmless, just another wandering formation of mist. But anyone paying attention quickly realized something was wrong with it.
Clouds didn’t move like that.
This one raced across the sky with purpose, cutting through the air far faster than nature ever intended. A dozen cultivators stood upon it, their robes rippling from the speed. Each robe carried the woven insignia of a thunderous cloud, clearly marking them as part of the same force.
Qi thrummed beneath their feet as they guided the cloud forward. Whenever a flying beast strayed into their path, the lead cultivator simply raised both hands. A curved blade of wind burst from one palm, slicing clean through wings. From the other, a crack of lightning shot forward, locking the creature’s muscles until it tumbled helplessly toward the ground.
Beast after beast fell—crashing into forests, flattening patches of plains, and in a few unlucky cases, landing right at the gates of towns. Mortals scattered in panic, scrambling out of the falling shadows, tripping over each other to avoid being crushed.
The cultivators didn’t slow. They didn’t look down. Not even once.
A few mortals screamed for help when a dying beast skidded across a road. Others simply froze, staring in terror at the collapsing weight barreling toward them.
But atop the cloud, the group moved on without so much as a glance.
Mortals weren’t worth their attention. And if someone died from a falling beast, then in their eyes, that life wasn’t worth much to begin with.
That was simply how the Thunder Blade Sect saw the world. To them, cultivators stood on a level so far above mortals that the gap wasn’t even worth acknowledging. Mortals farmed, carried loads, bowed, and died, useful only as the foundation under the boots of those who truly mattered. The elders called it the natural order. The heavens’ will. Everyone in the sect grew up hearing that line until it settled into bone.
Their arrogance didn’t stop at mortals, either. The Thunder Blade Sect also believed they stood above every other Guardian Sect in the empire. Some members even spoke openly about the empire itself as if it were nothing more than a fragile shell, something they would break through once their strength reached the “true” level they believed they deserved.
And in fairness, their confidence had roots. The Thunder Blade Sect was the strongest among the Guardian Sects. Whenever tournaments were held and sects clashed, their cultivators walked away with the most victories. The only group that ever posed a challenge was the Soaring Sword Sect, and even they rarely lasted long before being overwhelmed.
Out of all the proud disciples of the Thunder Blade Sect, one man embodied this belief more than the rest.
Yun Zhaotian stood at the front of the cloud, the wind whipping his hair backward as he prepared another strike. He was the one responsible for clearing every beast in their way so the Heavenly Gale Cloud could glide without slowing. Each creature that fell was another reminder of his position.
He had climbed every rank of the Thunder Blade Sect himself, step by step, talent sharpening into power. Born to a mortal family, plucked early and raised on the sect’s teachings, he had grown up hearing that their sect was destined for supremacy. He believed it more fiercely than anyone.
He believed he would be the one to make it reality.
One day, even the empire would kneel—before him, and before the Thunder Blade Sect. Their destination today was only the beginning of that future.
As Yun cut down another pair of eagle-like beasts—wings sheared clean by wind blades, bodies twitching as lightning finished the job—Qin Ruyan, one of his junior brothers stepped closer. The younger cultivator kept his balance on the cloud with practiced effort, gaze fixed on the faint line of distant peaks.
“We’ll reach the Corpse Lands in two days, Senior Brother Yun.” Qin Ruyan hesitated, voice dropping. “Should we stop tonight? Everyone has been using their qi to fuel the Heavenly Gale Cloud for days now.”
Yun didn’t even pause. He flicked the last sparks of lightning off his fingers and looked straight ahead.
“No,” he said. “It would be foolish to stop now. We’re close to the Corpse Lands. I want us to be the first to reach it.”
Qin Ruyan blinked, uncertainty crossing across his face. “Is there… a reason to arrive first?”
“Yes.” Yun gave him a flat look. “You’re still young. You don’t understand yet, but in this world, everything is information. If we get there early, we can speak to the locals who saw the pagoda appear. We can study the runes carved into the structure before anyone else touches them. The other Guardian Sects might waste time, but we cannot.”
Qin Ruyan visibly considered this, then bowed slightly. “You are wise, Senior Brother Yun. But… will the locals really know anything about such an ancient structure?”
“No,” Yun said, “but they may have heard stories. Rumors. Anything. The pagoda has always been tied to the Corpse Lands. People who’ve lived near that place their whole lives must have heard something.”
Qin Ruyan nodded again, though his expression tightened. He still wasn’t convinced about pushing on without rest.
Yun noticed, but ignored it.
None of the sects knew what waited inside the pagoda. Not truly. Even his own sect had only one surviving record, and it stated plainly that most cultivators who entered never made it past the first floor.
That alone was reason enough not to waste a single moment.
Yun had no illusions about what waited inside the pagoda. Beasts, traps, enemies—each level would be a battlefield, and he doubted most of his junior brothers would last long. A few might survive the first floors, but after that? They would fall or leave, assuming the pagoda even allowed them to retreat.
He didn’t blame them for their limits. But he wasn’t going to slow down for anyone. Reaching the top was his goal, and for that he needed every scrap of knowledge he could gather, whether it meant exhausting his fellow disciples or not.
After he made his intentions clear, not a single junior brother or sister raised another question. They were tired, drained from days of feeding qi into the Heavenly Gale Cloud, but a handful of spirit stones would refill what they’d lost. Fortunately, the Thunder Blade Sect enforced hierarchy with an iron fist. Challenging decisions from above was as good as writing your own death sentence.
So they stayed silent.
And eventually, the first silhouette of the Corpse Lands rose over the horizon.
The massive wall, the dark forest crawling with undead, the lingering haze that clung to the land—none of the disciples paid any attention to those things. Their eyes snapped to the one structure towering above everything else.
The pagoda.
It pierced the sky so cleanly that for a moment Yun wondered if it was even real. Taller than anything he imagined, far grander than the scraps of description recorded in the sect archives. It stood untouched, as if the world itself didn’t dare come close.
A structure like that shouldn’t have stayed hidden. Yet it had.
The Heavenly Gale Cloud drifted toward the wall, preparing to land amid the noise of startled guards scrambling at their arrival. Even with the commotion below, the disciples’ gazes remained locked on the pagoda the entire way.
His junior brother stepped up beside Yun again, unable to tear his eyes from the distant tower. “That pagoda is going to change our sect’s destiny, Senior Brother Yun.”
Yun allowed himself a rare smile. “Not only the sect,” he said quietly. “It will change mine as well.”
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***
Yun Zhaotian had been massively wrong about being the first to arrive in the Corpse Lands, wrong about being the first Guardian Sect as well. Another sect had already been here for a full week. Out of all the sects in the empire, it was the one that has mastered the art of swords—The Soaring Sword Sect
They prided themselves on mastery of the sword, but what the world often forgot was how terrifying their agility was, how much they had trained to be the quickest. Their most talented younger-generation cultivators had slipped into the Corpse Lands the moment the sect had announced the expedition for the pagoda’s inheritance.
They wasted no time.
The first thing they did was investigate the pagoda—circling it, examining the land around it, probing the air for formations. But it didn’t take long for them to learn they wouldn’t be able to enter for at least another two months. The opening simply refused to respond to anyone.
Next, they tried the locals. But the scavengers living on the outskirts were just as clueless, and the Soaring Sword Sect did not shape decisions based on rumors.
So they turned to the one thing their sect took more seriously than anything else.
Training.
Different groups formed out of the expedition force, and all of them moved to test themselves against the dangers of the Corpse Lands. One of these groups was led by Li Xuan who was in charge of disciples the vice sect leader had chosen personally and he made sure that he wouldn't disappear his benefactor. Zombies fell in dozens as sword flashes tore through their warped bodies. Thin limbs fell; heads rolled; the corpses collapsed before they even realized they’d been cut.
His group killed so many undead that the Corpse Lands responded.
Not with ordinary zombies this time. But with those who had gained just enough intelligence to recognize a threat: Zombie warriors.
The disciples of the Soaring Sword Sect halted atop a ridge of broken stone. Dust swirled around their feet. Their blades hummed faintly. And in the distance, the earth trembled.
Dozens… no, hundreds of zombies closed in from every direction. Their hollow eyes glowed with a dim, sickly awareness, focused entirely on the cultivators who had made themselves too dangerous to ignore.
The disciples tightened their grips on their blades as the horde circled them.
The horde was led by three zombie warriors, each gripping rust-eaten swords. Their eyes were clouded, hungry, faintly aware and intensely locked onto the Soaring Sword Sect disciples with murderous intent.
And at the front of the group stood Li Xuan.
He looked at the advancing undead the way people looked at flies. A nuisance. Nothing more.
He swept his gaze over the mass of bodies and spoke calmly, “You have ten seconds. Kill all of them. I’ll handle the zombie warriors myself.”
He had brought only five disciples with him today, but none of them hesitated.
“We won’t disappoint you, Senior Brother Li Xuan!” they shouted in unison.
And then the zombies charged, claws snapping, limbs thrashing, the force of the rush shaking loose stones from the ridge.
Li Xuan moved first.
He pulled his sword out and the next thing he knew was his body blurring through the initial wave. Rotten heads flew as his blade carved through necks with practiced ease. He didn’t slow. He stepped on a collapsing corpse, kicked off, and leapt straight toward the first zombie warrior.
The undead swung a broad arc meant to split him in half. Li Xuan bent low beneath the blade, sliding under the attack. For an instant, he caught a flicker of surprise on the corpse’s face.
Then his sword swept left.
The zombie warrior’s head separated cleanly from its body.
Dark blood sprayed across the ground as the corpse toppled, but Li Xuan didn’t spare it a glance. He was already moving.
The second zombie warrior barreled toward him, raising its sword. Li Xuan’s smile sharpened. In the next heartbeat, his blade pierced the creature’s chest mid-stride, skewering it through the core. It dropped like a broken puppet.
Only one remained.
This one was larger—much larger—towering over the others by several feet. Its muscles bulged under deadened flesh, and its grip on its sword was unnervingly steady.
Li Xuan didn’t care.
He sprinted forward as the monster swung down. Their blades clashed, the impact jolting the air, and Li Xuan pushed. The giant zombie staggered back several steps.
He didn’t pause.
His sword rose, and the zombie warrior barely turned in time to block his next strike. Sparks burst from the collision.
Lightning crackled across his blade.
Without as much of a flinch, he activated the Fourth Technique of the Seven Sword Arts—[Thunderfall Slash].
Power surged through the metal, the sword beginning to howl as arcs of electricity crawled over its length. Bolts split the sky as he brought the blade down.
A rain of thunder crashed onto the Zombie Warrior.
Its body convulsed, charred, and then collapsed onto the ground with a dull thud.
Silence followed, except for the crackle of fading lightning.
Like its brethren, the last zombie warrior crashed to the ground in a lifeless heap.
Li Xuan flicked the blood from his blade and glanced around. His heartbeat became steady as he realised his junior brothers had already finished off the remaining zombies; rotting bodies lay scattered around them in piles. All five disciples were now looking at him, waiting for his assessment.
“Good job,” Li Xuan said. “But these things are barely a threat to us. Slow, predictable, and falling apart at the joints. Tomorrow we head deeper. We need real challenges.”
The disciples nodded immediately.
But before he could say anything more, a shift in the air tugged at his senses. Li Xuan paused, eyes narrowing. He turned toward the horizon.
A massive cloud was drifting down toward the wall. Normally, he would’ve taken it for a usual cloud, but this one… this one was far too controlled, far too steady to be natural. It descended slowly, like some heavenly beast lowering itself into a nest.
He recognized it instantly. So did the others.
“It seems the heavens have brought us a challenge sooner than expected,” Li Xuan said, expression sharpening. “The Thunder Blade Sect has finally arrived.”
Murmurs rippled through his group and he could tell that their tension and anticipation were both rising.
“That means the other Guardian Sects won’t be far behind,” he added.
He slid his sword back into its sheath and stepped off the ridge.
“Come. Let’s go greet them.”
***
A/N - You can read 30 chapters (15 Magus Reborn and 15 Dao of money) on my patreon. Annual subscription is now on too. Also this is Volume 2 last chapter.
Magus Reborn 3 is OUT NOW. It's a progression fantasy epic featuring a detailed magic system, kingdom building, and plenty of action.
