I Was Reincarnated As A Sword Spirit

The moon hung high, casting silver light over the quiet forest. The battle was over, but Qing'er's heart still raced.

She wiped the sweat from her brow, glancing at Yao Yan. He stood with his arms crossed, looking as composed as ever, his red hair catching the moonlight like fire.

"Rest," he said. "Your body is reaching its limit."

Qing'er wanted to argue—she still had energy, still had strength left—but exhaustion was already creeping into her limbs.

She sighed and sat on a nearby rock. The Shadowfang Wolf's corpse lay nearby, its blood soaking into the earth.

For the first time since the fight ended, a strange feeling settled in her chest.

She had killed before—beasts, bandits, those who had tried to harm her—but every time, a question lingered in her mind.

"Was it necessary?"

She gazed at her sword. Yao Yan… do you ever regret killing?

She didn't say the words out loud, but somehow, Yao Yan turned his golden eyes to her as if he had heard them.

"You're troubled."

Qing'er hesitated. "I… was just thinking. Every time I take a life, I wonder if I could have done something different."

Yao Yan studied her for a moment, his expression unreadable.

"You're still young," he said at last. "It's good that you think that way."

She blinked in surprise. "You're not going to call me foolish?"

A smirk tugged at his lips. "No. You're my master. If you were ruthless without reason, you wouldn't deserve that title."

Qing'er frowned. "And yet… you don't hesitate."

Yao Yan chuckled softly. "I learned long ago that hesitation gets you killed." His voice carried a weight that made her chest tighten.

She wanted to ask more. About his past, about what kind of man he had been before becoming a sword spirit. But before she could, he turned away.

"Rest, Qing'er," he said. "Tomorrow, your training continues."

Qing'er sighed. One day, she would understand him.

But for now, she closed her eyes, letting the night embrace her in its quiet solace.