Chapter 45: Divine Sword Spirit

  “Huaixu’s Great Camity.”

  An Jing had seen vague traces of these stories himself in some a books. These were, at minimum, a histories from tens of thousands of years ago, when many written records were hazy at best.

  In that distant age, the a Immortal people finally drove out the Heavenly Demons and rebuilt numerous nations. The progenitor of Great was one of those founders, ultimately f the rgest kingdom in the Northern Xuan ti* during the long Warring States period.

  The murals were about to end, yet the deeper they went, the more plete aailed the ses became. Some were obviously drawn in ter eras, adding follow-up depis.

  An Jing grew more solemn by the moment.

  He saw the Heavenly Demons revive.

  Over the course of tless years, even after the statue of the Sword Immortal had colpsed, Hanging Fate Valley spewed forth demoniergy that shot toward the heavens, vaguely f the image of a Heavenly Demon.

  It guided the waters of all the rivers to scour Hanging Fate Valley—inally not a river yon—wearing away at the seal in an attempt to break free. Yet, the forebears instead used that fact to struct a massive earth-vein formation anchored by the surrounding mountains and rivers, sealing the Heavenly Demon once again.

  That formation was the in of Hanging Fate Valley as it stood now.

  “The Heavenly Demon actually revived once?”

  An Jing spoke in a low voice. “Fuxie, you didn’t awaken at that time?”

  “I don’t know…” The Sword Spirit’s tone sounded grave. “My memories… there’s far too much missing.”

  “Whely did I shatter? It seems it happened sometime after that Heavenly Demon was vanquished. I even recall my fragments being enshrined here, with some people hoping to use the power of a myriad people’s and the Heavenly Demon’s provocation to awaken and revive me. That became the prototype for the grand formation that let you all awaken your Heaven-Ordained Fates…”

  “Yes, inally there was no river in Hanging Fate Valley, and there were tless altar caves on both sides of the yon walls… But as for the details of the sed sealing when the Heavenly Demon revived, I really don’t know,” the Sword Spirit added.

  An Jing nodded slightly. In truth, he had also sensed something amiss: The hilt of the Sword Spirit had been excavated in the Northern Border—his homend—and was taken by ce to the northwest region’s Hanging Fate Valley, only to be stored by the Heavenly Will Demonic Sect.

  The power hidden in that sword hilt had never been discovered, because the main sciousness of the Sword Spirit resided in the hilt, while the fragments themselves possessed no awareness.

  Hanging Fate Valley had been overrun by demoniergy. Even the Demonic Sect dared er. Yet the Sword Spirit could suppress the demoniergy immediately, proving it naturally teracted that power.

  But the “fragments” within the valley had never reacted strongly to the demoniergy; they needed a ritual to suppress it. Although the earth-vein sword energy summoned by that ritual formation proved the fragments still existed, they must have been in a poor state.

  Moreover, the Sword Spirit’s fragments had scattered all over, including to some other realms…

  An Jing had a gut feeling that the story behind all this was plex.

  Of course it was. A Sword Immortal’s sword shattering implied a vast, plicated backdrop.

  This was the karmic burden he had to bear for borrowing the Sword Spirit’s might. So, after letting out a long breath, he tinued forward.

  Before long, the seemingly endless corridor came to an end.

  He found himself fag a massive half-dome hall deep within the yon, clearly artificial rather than natural.

  A “√”-shaped staircase preceded the entrao that hall. Thus, the spaside looked quite and orderly, showing no signs of flood damage. Faintly visible in the ter y the rotted remains of a meditation cushion.

  An Jing walked out of the corridor and into the man-made, semicircur hall.

  That was when he saw, pced at the far end of the hall atop a lofty jade altar, the “divine object” that awaited him:

  【A fragment of a sword bde.】

  It was a thick, diamond-shaped piece of bde, glowing with a silvery- radiance.

  An Jing paused momentarily. He felt an inexplicable sense of familiarity, as if he had seen that fragment tless times before—yet he realized almost immediately that this was the sensation the Sword Spirit had passed to him. The rusted sword within his spiritual sea trembled slightly. “This is my sword root**… but it’s strange. Where is the protective formation?”

  An Jing looked around. On every surface of the half-dome hall—its curved walls and the ceiling—he could see deifs of mountains, seas, clouds, dragons, and phoenix-like scripts. They faintly formed a massive formation upon the pale azure jade.

  Yet, that formation was no longer funing.

  Or rather, it had been damaged.

  Grayish-bck stains spread across the pale azure jade, coarsening it and leaving it withered—devoid of any luster or spiritual nature.

  It looked as though it had died, a corpse deg over thousands of years. All its vitality and moisture were gone, leaving it in this state of rot.

  “Heavenly Demon corrosion,” An Jing muttered. “Only the termost area remains intact.”

  “Thank goodness it’s still in time,” the Sword Spirit said. Despite sounding anxious, it tried to remain calm. “Go retrieve it, An Jing. As the bearer of the sword, you have that right.”

  “All right.”

  An Jing ined his head slightly. He walked forward, asding the altar.

  As he climbed each step, a series of soft, jade-white glimmers lit up. Just as the Sword Spirit had said, nothing tried to block his path. He advanced all the way to the top of the altar without hindrance.

  Even with his posure, his heart still beat faster at that moment.

  He took a deep breath, suppressing any impulsive urge, then slowly reached out to touch the sword fragment.

  Suddenly, a silvery glow fred.

  The inally greenish hues draped over the jade sword fragment and altar erupted with a brilliant radiance, illuminating the entire dome-shaped hall. The pale azure jade of the interior walls also shone, weaving beams of light into a misty realm like an immortal paradise.

  Standing amid that illusory wondernd, An Jing’s expression ged slightly. With his touch, both the bde fragment and altar light rapidly dehe inal steel-like silver and jade-like green faded at great speed, turning into the same lifeless grayish-bck as the jade corroded by the Heavenly Demon outside—like the deg remains of the dead.

  All their vitality and spiritual essence verged in An Jing’s hand, merging into a blurry shard of light!

  Then, the broken fragment of the sword traced a gleaming arc. It sped toward An Jing’s forehead—where, aided by the Sword Spirit, it sank into his brow!

  He did not dodge. He stood tall, hand lifting to his forehead. Finding no wound—only cold sweat—he finally let out a breath of relief.

  “Scared me to death, Fuxie. ime, don’t make it so dramatic. Or at least give me a warning beforehand.”

  Truth be told, An Jied that he had trained himself too well physically. If he were less fit, he could have flopped onto the ground just now and taken long, deep breaths.

  But his horse stance was as immovable as iron, so even while a cold sweat soaked him through, he remained ramrod straight, forced to spera strength and willpower to quell his rag thoughts.

  Within his spiritual sea, the rusted sword’s hilt and guard had acquired a newly attached se of bde. That bde was illusory, shining with radiant light. Threads of pale silver aura emanated from it, and An Jing sehat his prehension of the Serene Sword Teique had signifitly deepened.

  He was not worried that the Sword Spirit might have tried to seize his body—the Sword Spirit itself sounded just as baffled: “How could this be…? My bde itself is deg, leaving only the Spirit Soul?!”

  “In the past, I had already proven my immortality. Even my fragments should have remaiernally intact. Why have they corroded so severely?”

  An Jing did not know what lofty realm the Sword Spirit had oained, but it had never acted desdingly toward him; its words and advice were alolite. This was the first time he had heard the Sword Spirit so shaken.

  All the same, An Jing could not help pining inwardly: What do you mean ‘undying and iructible’? Wasn’t your main body already a rusty broken sword? Why be so shocked that the bde fragment itself has rotted?

  Yet that was not all—at the moment, An Jihe broken sword in his spiritual sea tremble violently. The Sword Spirit’s voice rose in astonishment, nearing utter fusion. “How… how is this possible?!”

  “My bde fragment has none of my memories?!”

  (End of Chapter)

  *北玄祭洲, literally "Northern Mysterious Ritual ti." I decided to cut off "Ritual" from the name and transliterate 玄 as "Xuan". If the "Ritual" part is important I may ge it ter.

  **剑根, literally meaning “sword root,” refers to the tang—the hidden part of the bde extending into the ha’s the structural foundation that holds the sword together; if the tang (sword root) is weak, the bde break off. In some novels, it may also represent the ialent one has for sword arts.