Unlocked at Character Level 40
She followed the sound to a corner of the workshop. Her father was nowhere to be found, and on the ground laid the frame of a large sword made from an iron alloy. Picking it up, Yunli realized that the sword frame even stood taller than her. Curiously running her fingers over it, she then imitated how Hanguang normally worked, pretending to refine the sword frame.
But this large sword never got forged: Hanguang smelt the heliobus-cursed sword instead, bringing a tragedy upon the Flamewheel Forge. Yunli narrowly escaped the fate of the others, only because Huaiyan arrived in the nick of time to rescue her. She became a disciple of Huaiyan thereafter, not forgetting to take the cursed sword billet with her.
"Yunli, your sword's more likely to break if you use raw materials of non-standard composition." A fellow apprentice couldn't help but offer her some advice. His sword soon chimed in, though criticizing Yunli's smithing in a dainty manner.
"Why don't you go out there and scrape more bark instead, snob?"
The other students looked on with confusion and discomfort, prompting Yunli to look up at her fellow apprentice and the now silent sword. "Sorry, that wasn't directed at you. It was meant for your sword."
"My name's Radiance because of my sharp blade and glistening hilt."
But she knew the sword's fate: Its master would only chuck it into the vault, with its radiance forever concealed from the world.
"My name's Jasminette. I like the jasmine flower that is engraved upon my hilt."
She could tell Jasminette was annoyed at the frivolous name that its master chose, but it delighted at being cherished.
While human intentions are indecipherable from their words alone, the voices of swords are much simpler to understand.
Memories of the cursed sword that drove others to lose their sanity and the gruesome sight of blood all over the ground remain deeply etched in Yunli's mind... Perhaps also in that of the sword billet, though it had never once spoken or talked to her about the events that transpired on that fateful day.
"You've also witnessed those blades that permeate bloodlust and killing intent being swung, right?
"Now that I think about it, those heliobi will probably not be able to wield you either. You're big and blunt, and spiritless too."
The sword billet trembled suddenly, kicking up a layer of dark carbon dust that fell like an awe-inspiring nebula.
"So you were abandoned by that person because you rejected the heliobus... A theory that even an unfinished sword understands... Why didn't fath— he...
"But when can a sword be considered 'finished'..."
Unable to help herself, she reached out to run her fingers over the uneven edges of the blade. Despite the lack of a central ridge, the sword could still be considered sharp.
"Not talking again? What a stubborn lump of metal you are... In that case, I'll just call you 'Old Mettle'."
"Don't worry. To others, you might simply be a billet without a point, but that is immaterial to the intent of swordsmanship."
"A blade that I swing will always be considered sharp."
"Let's go, Old Mettle. Come with me to see the world."