SUPREME ARCH-MAGUS

Chapter 986: The Legacy of the Heavenly Sword

The morning sun broke through the moss-covered windows of the Salt manor, casting thin gold bars across the stone floor.

Philip Salt—once Kent, now trapped in the legacy trial under a false identity—moved with a sense of growing awareness. With each passing hour, he peeled back another layer of the life this body once lived: timid, used, stepped over like a worn doormat.

But that would no longer be the case.

Servants moved more briskly now. Fear replaced their mockery. The same guards who once smirked behind his back now saluted with trembling respect. A few bruises, broken canes, and flying boots the day before had served as sharp reminders that Philip Salt had changed.

Now, in the early light, Kent sat at the small ancestral library hidden behind the third courtyard, poring over old Salt clan records. He had bribed an old, half-blind record keeper to give him access. What he found sent small storms of calculation racing through his mind.

The Salt clan had once been a noble power within the Southern Coastal Alliance. Their rise had come during the war era, under the leadership of Philip’s grandfather, Elric Salt. But peace had made them soft. Or rather, it had made Philip—this body—an easy target for the inner wolves.

From the family records, one detail stood out.

“The Salt Heir must be wed into the White clan by the age of twenty-three to receive the Heavenly Sword and its inheritance, sealed by ancestral pact.”

Philip—Kent—sat back in the wooden chair. The Heavenly Sword?

Kent flipped pages to know more about it. One of the Six Artifact Blades of the Coastal Realms. Rumor had it, the blade had a sleeping spirit that awakened only once every hundred years to impart a complete Heavenly Martial Codex to its wielder.

But the second part of the pact caught his attention: Must be wed into the White Clan.

He remembered now, faintly—Philip Salt had been engaged to Lily White, daughter of the powerful Lord Varin White, who ruled the Azure Coast. She was said to be brilliant in cultivation and unmatched in swordplay.

Kent frowned. So this is where clan politics stirred. “The engagement faltered after the Phillip’s untimely death… now the marriage suspended until the council decides.”

He stood and walked into the main hall.

As he entered, the household’s core members stood already seated at a long wooden table. His father, Patriarch Gareth Salt, sat grimly at the head, flanked by two uncles and the family advisor, old Master Fen.

They turned to him, surprised to see him walk in unannounced.

“Philip,” the patriarch said, tone dry. “You should rest. You only just returned from… death.”

“I’ve rested enough, Father,” Kent replied coolly. “But I hear there’s a debate about my engagement.”

There was a silence. One of the uncles scoffed.

“You were declared dead, boy. The council wants to pass your claim to your cousin, Alric.”

“Alric,” Kent said, voice flat, “who also happens to fancy Lily White.”

The patriarch looked pained. “The Heavenly Sword was promised to the heir. If you’re alive, then perhaps the pact stands. But—”

“But?” Kent challenged.

Master Fen adjusted his long sleeves. “Young master, the White clan has grown restless. Rumors say they may propose a new engagement with the Zehn clan. Lily herself has not spoken on the matter.”

Kent’s mind whirled. This wasn’t just a marriage—it was a power deal. Whoever wed Lily would not only gain the favor of the White clan but also access to the Heavenly Sword, which could bring an entire generation of cultivation breakthroughs.

He stood straighter.

“I will claim my right. If the Heavenly Sword was bound to the Salt heir through my engagement, then no one will take it unless I fall again.”

The words fell like steel hammers in the room.

But Gareth raised his hand. “Claiming it and keeping it are different matters. Your cousin Alric has already visited the White Clan. He is favored by Lord Varin. The council is split. They doubt you’re still the same… and they will not risk the wrath of the Whites if you appear weak again.”

Kent’s voice grew cold. “Then I’ll prove to them that this ’Philip Salt’ has returned with fire in his bones.”

Later that day, Kent visited the lower courtyard, where Alric trained.

The man was tall, strong, with the air of a golden heir—except he was rotten with ambition. As Kent entered, Alric swung his broadsword with flair, ending in a pose before his gathering of younger cousins and sycophants.

“Well, if it isn’t the ghost come to walk again,” Alric said, smirking.

“I came to remind you of your place,” Kent said, stepping onto the stone floor.

Alric laughed. “You’ve been dead, Philip. Stay buried. You’ve no strength left in those weak bones.”

“Then test me.”

Gasps echoed. Swords clattered. Alric raised an eyebrow.

“You want a duel?”

“No. Just one exchange,” Kent said. “If you win, I’ll leave the clan and give up Lily. If I win, you bend the knee and stop your games.”

Alric’s smirk deepened. “Fine. Let the ancestors witness.”

He charged like a raging bull, blade flashing.

Kent didn’t move. He stepped aside just as Alric neared, twisted his body, and with one precise motion struck a pressure point under Alric’s ribs. The broadsword flew from the cousin’s hand. Alric collapsed, gasping for breath.

The cousins stared. No one spoke.

Kent leaned over. “I’ve walked the edge of death, Alric. Next time, I won’t stop at your ribs.”

He turned and walked out, cloak swirling.

That evening, a quiet knock came at Kent’s chamber.

A maid delivered a sealed letter.

It was from Lily White.

“Philip Salt,

I heard of your miraculous return—and your duel.

Tomorrow, come to the Azure Pavilion.

If you wish to prove your worth as heir… and husband, then face my sword first.

—Lily White”

Kent folded the letter, eyes gleaming.

So even the bride had fire in her veins.

He smiled faintly.

“I don’t know what should I do to succeed in this test. But Phillip’s life is really getting interesting.” Kent muttered with a heavy sigh.

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Tq guys for the support!