The school’s flag-raising ceremony was underway when a massive crack suddenly tore open the sky. Hordes of demons poured out. As teachers and students screamed and scrambled to escape, I rolled up the sleeve of my uniform and sighed: "Sword—come!" 1 I was a student secretly drafted into the world of cultivation. In recent years, the Spirituality Surge hit the world, bringing with it the possibility of demonic emergence. Those of us with detected Spiritual Roots were secretly trained to handle the inevitable monster apocalypse. My Spiritual Root was found right before my middle school final exams. No one knew that a secret Root Test had been added to the physical check-ups. I was found to possess a Supreme Single Water Root. When the expert called my mom, she thought I was being recruited by a top-tier prep school. She listened closer and decided the man was an unhinged scam artist. It took my middle school principal showing up in person for her to believe it was real. Cultivation wasn't just ancient myth. 2 Having a Single Water Root meant I was a genius, even by the standards of the mythical ancient cultivator realm. So, I skipped my finals and got a full scholarship to the prestigious Northwest University of Cultivation, specializing in the Sword Arts. But my Master insisted I couldn’t drop my academic classes; otherwise, I wouldn't even be able to read the ancient manuals. That’s how I ended up in the state's best high school as a “specialist student.” Two years into high school, I spent one year training on Mount Kunlun. My desk partner, an art student, was super curious about my constant "training trips." The day I returned to school, he couldn't help but ask. He leaned on his hand. "What exactly do you do out there?" I told him the truth: "I'm learning how to save the world." He snorted with laughter. "No way. Are you still stuck in your edgy phase?" I shrugged. "You normals wouldn't get it." He laughed even harder. We were talking at a normal volume. By the end of the day, the entire class knew I was a dramatic girl who fantasized about saving the world. By the next day, the entire grade knew: The girl in Homeroom 6 was the edgy one who fantasized about saving the world. 3 My reputation was so loud that the school bully came looking for trouble. Seriously, some of these high schoolers are just vicious. Saturday afternoon, after school, the bully cornered me in an alley. He held an unlit cigarette between his fingers—the bully’s fashion accessory. He raised an eyebrow. "You're the one who talks about saving the world?" I nodded. He sneered. "Let's see if you can save yourself first." I figured he’d take a while, and my backpack was uncomfortable. I dropped it on the ground and faced him. "Go ahead. Start." I could easily fly away on my sword, but you need to file a flight plan with local air traffic control to use a flying sword in a normal area. I am a law-abiding cultivator. The bully looked confused for a second, then lunged with a kick. He attacked first. That cleared my conscience. I threw a spirit-infused chop that knocked him unconscious instantly. He collapsed, and I noticed a blotch of black energy hovering over his brow. Clearly, he'd been tainted by demonic energy. No wonder he was so aggressive and targeted the one talking about saving the world. I plucked the demonic energy from his forehead, threw it on the ground, and crushed it. My intuition flared. The emergence of the real demons was close. 4 My premonition was correct. On Monday, during the flag-raising ceremony, the Principal was droning on during a painfully long speech. The sky suddenly changed. Dark clouds pressed down, promising an imminent storm. The leading teacher mumbled, "Did they get the weather forecast wrong?" The forecast wasn't wrong. It was supposed to be a sunny day. A crack appeared in the sky. At first, everyone thought it was a flash of lightning and excitedly hoped the assembly would be cut short. Then, the crack grew wider and wider. A green-faced, sharp-fanged monster plummeted into the assembly lines. Screams erupted in a terrifying chorus. More and more demons dropped. Students and teachers ran frantically, scattering everywhere. As they fled, I walked against the tide toward the crack. My desk partner rushed back, grabbing my wrist. "What are you doing! Run!" I rolled up the sleeve of my uniform, reaching into the void. "Sword—come!" He looked frantic, his eyes red. "Are you serious?! Now is not the time for—" The short sword hidden in my backpack answered the call, singing as it flew out of the classroom, over the main building, and landed in my hand. The silver-white blade elongated, shining with a cold, moonlit glow. My desk partner’s jaw dropped. "Holy crap! You're actually doing it?!" I had been practicing the sword for almost three years, but this was my first solo fight. My hand trembled on the hilt. I channeled my spiritual energy and unleashed a Sword Qi Slash. The first slash took off the head of the leading demon. Black blood splattered, and the gourd-like head rolled to my feet. My desk partner had never seen anything like it. He clapped a hand over his mouth and instantly wretched. Okay, I get it. This wave of demons isn't very strong. I said, "Stay close to me." 5 I swung my sword, slaughtering the ground demons chasing the students. My desk partner ran behind me, sweating profusely. "I wish I'd taken sports instead of art!" I cut down the demons like I was slicing vegetables. The number of monsters wasn't huge. I cleared them out in half an hour. The ground was littered with demonic remains. The sky was clearing, but the crack hadn't closed. I leaned on my sword and caught my breath. The teacher in charge was trying to restore order. The bald Principal picked up his fallen toupee and put it back on. He knew some of the truth, but even he was sweating and panicking. "What do we do now..." I said, "Don't let everyone leave the campus yet. I saw a few demons fall outside the school grounds." The crack in the sky was still open. Anything could drop out at any moment. The Principal thought for a moment. "Tell everyone to go back to class. City-wide mock exams are coming up soon." I froze. "Huh?" He looked frustrated. "It might be a crucial lesson they'll miss! One point in the finals is a thousand students' difference!" I sighed. "...Fine." 6 This was a different kind of apocalypse. Monsters were rampant, and everyone was terrified. I wanted to follow the logic of the survival novels I'd read: gather everyone and set up a barrier. My cultivation wasn't high enough for a durable Spirit Barrier. But my sword was. This blade was retrieved from a museum. It was one of the few swords in existence still possessing spiritual energy, and it wasn't on public display. My Master gave it to me when I first showed promise in training. It was so old no one remembered its name. I named it "No-Roll" (Bù Juăn), commemorating the fact that I no longer had to compete in the merciless academic "roll" (competition) of the regular world. I plunged the sword into the center of the sports field. A silver-white aura spread out, enveloping the entire school. My desk partner stood to the side, worried. "What about you without the sword?" I gave a casual smile. "Without that blade, I can still wipe out these demons." Finally, I got to deliver a line that cool. 7 Everyone went back to class. Except me. I got my phone back from the teacher and reported to my Master. "There's a crack in the sky above the school. Demons are emerging." My Master's voice was urgent. "Any casualties?" "None," I said. He sighed in relief. "Hold out for a few more days. The sky is cracking in other cities too. I'm busy. I'll deploy people as soon as possible." Days? I was dumbfounded. "Master, I just reached the Foundation Establishment stage. I can't last long." He said, "I'll send you online courses. Teach yourself." I received a file of online courses, about 100 GB worth. Plus, digital practice questions: Five Years of Mock Exams, Three Years of Cultivation. My heart, which had just sunk, rose again. I wasn't competing in academics anymore, but I still had to compete in cultivation.
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