Reborn as the Last van Ambrose-Chapter 101: History of Sword Dao’s

Grim stared out the window, watching the palace. The sun was shining on the palace, bathing the capital in golden light. Yet his mind was far from the scenic view before him.

"Tell me more about these realms," he said, addressing the voice directly now that they were alone. "You claim this knowledge will help me learn my great-grandfather’s techniques?"

[Not merely help you learn them,] the voice replied, its tone carrying uncharacteristic eagerness. [It will explain why they exist at all, and how you might obtain them.]

Grim’s interest was piqued despite his wariness. "I’m listening."

[There are thousands of realms. Not merely the three I mentioned. Some are vast, containing entire worlds and civilizations. Others are small—pocket dimensions no larger than this room. Some are easy to find, with entrances that appear regularly. Others are nearly impossible to locate, requiring specific conditions or keys.]

"And these realms contain... what, exactly?" Grim asked.

[Beasts of immense power. Gods and demigods. Some are benevolent, others malicious. Most are simply... different, operating by rules and motivations incomprehensible to humans.]

Grim’s expression remained skeptical. "And this relates to sword techniques how, exactly?"

[The Sword Dao never originally existed in the Mortal Realm,] the voice explained. [In fact, no Dao did. They were techniques from elsewhere, brought here when the boundaries between realms grew thin—or when mortals found ways to cross those boundaries.]

The voice seemed to gather itself, as if preparing to deliver a lecture.

[Approximately one hundred generations ago, the Veil between realms weakened significantly. Mortals stumbled upon entrances to other realms, and some were fortunate—unfortunate—encounters with beings willing to form contracts with them.]

"Contracts?" Grim echoed.

[Agreements. Exchanges. A mortal offers something the entity desires—worship, blood sacrifice, service, or simply acknowledgment of their existence. In return, the entity grants knowledge, power, or techniques otherwise impossible within the natural laws of the Mortal Realm.]

"You’re suggesting the Celestial Mist style originated from such a contract?"

[Precisely. The Fire Heart style that your new knight wields came from a contract with a beast of flame. Every major Dao in existence traces its lineage to these inter-realm encounters.]

"If that’s true, why isn’t this common knowledge?" Grim challenged.

[Because as the generations passed, the truth became myth, then legend, and faded entirely. The techniques remained, carefully preserved and passed down, but their origins were forgotten or deliberately obscured by those who feared what such knowledge might inspire in others.]

The voice paused, as if considering how much to reveal.

[Realms can be found if one knows where to look,] it continued, [but the conditions must be right. Some realm entrances appear only during celestial alignments. Others require specific weather conditions—the convergence of rain and sunlight, the absolute stillness of a windless night, the precise moment of the winter solstice. Some require blood. Others, song. The variables are endless.]

Grim moved away from the window, pacing slowly across the room as he processed this information. "And my great-grandfather? You said he found multiple realms?"

[Caius Van Ambrose was perhaps the greatest cultivator to ever walk this earth,] the voice affirmed with what sounded like admiration. [He located and entered at least seven different realms during his lifetime, forming contracts with various entities. That is why the Celestial Mist style is so versatile—it draws from multiple sources, multiple realms.]

"And these contracts," Grim pressed, "they extend to descendants?"

[Yes. Once a contract is formed, anyone sharing blood with the contractor may learn the techniques. Blood carries the right of access.]

Grim stopped pacing, his expression thoughtful. "If what you say is true, these contracts would be immensely valuable."

[More than you realize,] the voice agreed. [And increasingly rare. The Veil has strengthened over the centuries. Fewer realm entrances appear, and those that do are more difficult to locate and access.]

"Is that why House Luminaris sought to destroy mine?" Grim asked quietly. "To eliminate a rival contract-holder?"

[That... is complicated,] the voice hedged. [Political ambition certainly played a role. But yes, the destruction of House Ambrose’s records and the attempted eradication of its bloodline would have eliminated potential rivals to certain contracts.]

Grim’s eyes narrowed. "Which contracts, specifically?"

[That is part of what I offer to tell you—for a price,] the voice replied, its tone shifting subtly toward something more mercantile. [I can guide you to the knowledge your great-grandfather possessed, knowledge that Julius Luminaris would kill to suppress.]

"And what is your price?" Grim asked warily.

[Nothing onerous. Merely your continued attention. And perhaps, eventually, a small service. But we needn’t discuss that now.]

Grim wasn’t fooled by the casual dismissal. Whatever service the voice eventually required would likely be significant. Still, the information being offered was potentially too valuable to reject outright.

A new question formed in his mind, one that had been lurking since the voice first mentioned realms. "The god that sent me here," he asked carefully, "is he in one of these realms?"

For the first time since their conversation began, the voice seemed genuinely surprised. Silence stretched for several heartbeats before it responded.

[Interesting that you should ask that particular question,] it finally said. [The entity you refer to as ’god’ resides in what some would call the Void Realm. It is neither truly a realm nor truly separate from all realms.]

The voice seemed to hesitate, as if choosing its next words carefully.

[But yes, it exists beyond the Mortal Realm. And it’s interest in you... that is perhaps the most intriguing aspect of your situation. Gods do not typically concern themselves with individual mortals unless they stand to gain something significant.]

Grim absorbed this, a chill running down his spine despite himself. "What could a god possibly gain from me?"

[That,] the voice said with finality, [is a question for another time. You have much to consider already, and your strength has not fully returned. Rest now. When you are ready to learn more—about the realms, about your great-grandfather’s techniques, about the true reason for House Ambrose’s fall—I will be here.]

With that, the voice fell silent, leaving Grim alone with his thoughts and far more questions than answers. He stared at his reflection in the window glass, wondering just how deep this rabbit hole went and how many more layers of deception and mystery lay beneath the surface of the world he was in now.

Grim thought to himself, he still had other questions he hadn’t asked yet, but he knew the voice would not give them to him.