Sword Bone

Sword Bone

Ouyang Mu glanced at the old Demon Cultivator again, his expression filled with emotion.

By that reckoning, this old Evil Artifact Master trapped in a Demon Cultivator nest could be considered his fellow disciple and clansman—a true... family elder?

And after several hundred years, his seniority was likely far above Ouyang Mu's.

A faint sense of respect inevitably rose in Ouyang Mu's heart.

The old Demon Cultivator looked at Ouyang Mu, his expression complicated and his gaze melancholy. "Back then, I was like you. I had a decent talent for artifact refinement, but I was dull and taciturn. All I knew was forging swords. I took forging an immortal sword unlike any other under heaven or earth as the wish of my life..."

"An immortal sword..."

The old Demon Cultivator looked desolate. "In my youth, I was reckless and ignorant of the immensity of heaven and earth. I had no idea how unreachable those two words were, how... despairing."

Then he laughed at himself. "We call ourselves cultivators, cultivating immortality. Yet what exactly is an 'immortal'? To this day, no one knows."

"Anything touched by the word 'immortal' is unfathomable and terrifying, beyond all description..."

Ouyang Mu looked solemn and nodded.

He, too, had regarded forging an "immortal sword" as the cultivation dream of his life.

Yet the deeper he cultivated and the more swords he forged, the more he felt that the word immortal stood impossibly high above him.

Perhaps in this lifetime, he would never even brush against the edge of an "immortal sword."

Forget forging one with his own hands—even seeing one might be an unimaginable luxury.

The old Demon Cultivator's clouded eyes silently studied Ouyang Mu. His thoughts were tangled and inscrutable. At last, he sighed and continued, "Several hundred years ago, I was