In an instant, feeling became reality. The five-meter-long giant sword slowly floated up from his hand. Its sharp, ear-piercing dragon roar turned long and lingering, surging between heaven, earth, and the sea of clouds. From the mountains beneath the surrounding cloud sea, countless gazes turned this way, wondering what had happened atop the "Qingzhong" peak above the mist.
"This..." Mei He stared at the giant sword, dumbfounded. He could clearly sense that his master's vital aura had withdrawn. This sword had actually gained consciousness and floated up on its own. It was simply too unbelievable; he thought his eyes were playing tricks on him.
"A peerless masterpiece, an extraordinary masterpiece. Worthy indeed of the Divine Artifact Old Man Huo spent thirty thousand years painstakingly tempering with countless treasures." Though this was nearly the highest praise possible, Wangqing's gaze upon the sword remained indifferent.
The giant sword slowly circled Wangqing, who stood atop the mountain peak. Its dragonlike sword cry sounded like a sob, as though a divine dragon trapped for countless years had finally seen daylight and beheld its master—or perhaps as though it were pleading for something.
"A Divine Artifact... How could Huo Xiaozi bear to hand over something so fine?" Mei He swallowed as he gazed at the giant sword brimming with spirituality. Putting himself in Huo Xiaozi's shoes, if he had forged such a treasure, he would never hand it over.
"Naturally, there are matters not fit to be told to outsiders. You need not know so clearly." A calm voice slowly emerged from behind the silver mask. "There is another crucial point. Fine though this sword is, in another's hands it would merely be an unparalleled sharp blade, nowhere near the level of a Divine Artifact. It requires someone to awaken it. It is a sword,