Learning Immortal Cultivation with a Black Coffin

[Traditional Cultivation] [Revenge] [Single Female Lead] [Swordsmanship] At twenty-six, the only thing this overworked office drone had been obsessed with in his previous life was a peachwood sword that cost thirty-nine yuan. After working overtime until he fell from a sky ladder, he opened his eyes to find himself a six-year-old orphan on the Yuanshi Continent, with a black coffin staring wide-eyed inside his dantian.

The coffin never spoke. It only ate. It ate his spiritual energy.

For every bit he cultivated, it ate a bit; for every ten bits, it ate three. To keep it from draining him dry, he had to cultivate like mad. To avenge his grandfather, who died in the bloody night, he had to practice his swordsmanship like mad.

At fourteen, he joined the Nine Swords Sect.

There was one sect master, one elder, nine Sword Disciples, and his master: twelve people in all.

His master said, "The sect has lived in seclusion for ten thousand years."

He asked, "Ten thousand years, and only twelve of you are left?"

His master said, "Now that you've come, there are thirteen."

Later, that thirteenth member cleaved a broken peak in two with a single sword strike.