The wind of the Tianyan Continent.
From the day Ren Xiaoyao cleaved the Sword Demon with his sword.
It was imbued with Killing Intent.
It howled endlessly across the Nine Provinces and Eight Desolations. Wherever the wind passed, the grass and trees were covered in frost, and legend has it that even the Mermaid Weeping Pearls in the East Sea turned blood red.
The setting sun was like blood.
The Soul Severing Cliff was dyed a fiery Red Iron. The magma seeping from the crevices of the cliff was frozen by the cold air, forming thousands of hanging Blood Crystals that reflected a ferocious light in the twilight. On the jagged rocks at the edge of the cliff, the frost marks were tinged purple by the blood, and each crack was embedded with undried Sword Aura, like a wound cleaved open by the earth. Ren Xiaoyao stood with his hands behind his back, the Green Sword Tassel tassel fluttering in the wind, the blood droplets at the tips of the tassels trembling with his breath. The moment the Lingchen Sword was slid diagonally into its sheath at his waist, the undried blood droplets on the Sword Spine slid down the Ice Patterned Sword Hilt —the blood droplets split into three pieces as they hit the ground, leaving dark red specks on the dark blue-green rocks, like three Mandala that suddenly bloomed and withered in an instant, the edges of the petals still holding the cold light of lingering sword intent, emitting a faint Sword Hum the moment they touched the rock.
As the blood droplet fell to the ground, the sea of clouds outside the cliff suddenly surged. The originally stagnant, inky clouds were as if cleaved by an invisible sword, transforming into a raging torrent like ten thousand galloping horses. Where the clouds surged, a deep purple dome was revealed, as if the heavens and earth had been slashed open here. The starlight seeping from the cracks in the dome mingled with the Blood Light, weaving a huge Sword Net on the surface of the sea of clouds. In the shattered light of the setting sun reflected off the distant Snow Peaks- capped peaks, faint ripples formed by sword intent could be seen, spreading out in circles, startling several circling vultures—their wingtips stained with undried demonic blood, now frantically crashing into the blood-red setting sun, their wings burning to ashes and falling in a flurry. Each piece of ashes, upon landing, transformed into Miniature Sword Mound, with a broken sword shadow about an inch long embedded in it.
The Sword Demon's corpse lay sprawled at the edge of the Rift Valley, the once-feared " World-Ending Demonic Sword " broken in two. The broken edge gleamed coldly, a testament to the " Break Delusion, Sever Void " sword intent of the Lingchen Sword. Cracks from the Sword Qi's energy, used to shred Demonic Crystal, still lingered on the broken blade. The demonic energy seeping from these cracks condensed into Black Ice Prisms upon contact with the cold, emitting a mournful sound in the wind. His wide-open eyes, still brimming with lingering ferocity, were now clouded with a gray haze. Staring at the leaden dome, his cracked lips maintained a silent roar, Black Blood seeping from between them forming eerie runes on the ground. These runes visibly wriggled, spelling out the words " Heavenly Dao's Injustice," only to be scattered into dust by the wind.
Ren Xiaoyao sheathed his sword with extreme slowness, his fingertips brushing against the engravings of the two characters "Ling Chen" on the hilt—characters inlaid with Southern Pole Profound Ice Iron Sand, now gleaming coldly. The blood seeping from the grooves mingled with the Profound Ice Iron Sand, condensing into a miniature Ice Lotus on the hilt. The scabbard trembled slightly, absorbing the last trace of bloody stench into the black iron. The Ice Patterned Sword Hilt on the Mysterious Iron suddenly lit up, like a pair of cold eyes gazing down at the setting sun. The white mist rising from the edge of the hilt fell onto his green robe, instantly freezing into tiny sword-shaped frost flowers. As the mountain wind swept past his green robe, the hem fluttered, only the sweat stains mixed with blood at his temples, still damp, condensing into dark red scabs in the twilight. Beneath the scabs, the newly formed skin glowed with an eerie black aura, spreading like a spider web, each thread suspending half a Demonic Crystal, a testament to the breathtaking battle that had just taken place.
News spreads faster than wildfire.
Three days later, Flying Eagle Message in the Xianxia Sect Northern Snow City pierced through the blizzard and landed on the desk of an elder of the Immortal Cloud Sect. Ice Crystals still clung to the edges of the letter, unmelted snowflakes were still wrapped around the pigeon's claws, its eyes were cloudy from exhaustion of spiritual energy, and half a bloodstained sword tassel was still in its beak. Five days later, a guest of the Southern Xinjiang Gu King relayed the details of the battle in the Miasma Forest. Before he finished speaking, the poisonous butterflies that had been perched around him fell to the ground one after another—the fluorescent blue patterns on their wings were visibly fading to gray-white, and the venom seeping from between their wing veins was etching "Ren"-shaped scorch marks on the withered leaves. Tiny poisonous ants crawled around the edges of the scorch marks, but they turned to ashes the moment they came into contact with the "Ren" character.
From the perpetually frozen Profound Ice Fortress in the Far North Ice Plains to the ebb and flow of the tides on Penglai Island in the East Sea Coast; from the White Jade Steps where a pin drop could be heard during discussions among the Renowned Orthodox Sects to the deafeningly noisy Hall of Righteous Gathering of Righteousness during the division of spoils in the Greenwood Mountain Stronghold —the three words " Ren Xiaoyao " (meaning "Free and Unfettered") rolled across the clouds like thunder, causing Panic-stricken in the martial world. When the storyteller in the teahouse struck the gavel, sword marks appeared on it, and the wood chips seeping from the cracks solidified into sword shapes; the Righteous Gathering Banner of the stronghold was blown by the night wind, and the shape of the torn corner was exactly the same as the Sword Path of Lingchen Sword, with the strips of cloth fluttering from the tear forming sword shadows in the air.
"That kid's got a death wish! The Sword Demon is Jinx even Xuanjizi True Person n't dare provoke!" In a Cangzhou tavern, a swordsman slammed his fist on the table and downed a shot of strong liquor. The liquor dripped down his tangled beard, leaving dark stains on the wooden table. Bloodstains from slaughtering horses the day before were still embedded in his fingernails, along with a few fragments of Demonic Crystal. "I heard he cleaved the World-Ending Demonic Sword in two with a single strike! His swordplay was as fast as a white light; he sliced off the Demon Head's head in the blink of an eye! Where the white light passed, even the Demonic Runes on the Demon Head's body shattered into dust, and those Demonic Runes screamed as they hit the ground!"
"White light? I heard from a merchant caravan from the Western Regions that it was the Lingchen Sword that stirred up the heavenly Heavenly Wind, pulverizing the demonic energy within ten feet of the Sword Demon!" The storyteller at the next table waved his gilded folding fan, his spittle flying as the ink on the Fan Surface, inscribed with " A Laugh in the Vast Sea," curled slightly from the Sword Qi energy. Half a bloodstained sword tassel was caught in the gaps between the Fan Ribs, the blood droplets at the tip flicking out tiny Sword Aura as he fanned, leaving fine holes in the robes of the audience. "In my opinion, this Ren Xiaoyao must be the reincarnation of High Antiquity Sword Immortal immortal. Look at that sword's name, 'Lingchen,' clearly a destiny untouched by Mortal World, dedicated solely to slaying demons! I heard that when he wields the sword, the ice patterns on its blade light up, like a cascading Milky Way, the river filled with demon-slaying Sword Talisman!"
Someone else lowered their voice, tapping their wine cup on the cracked table. Their knuckles turned white from the force, and they didn't even notice the shards of porcelain that chipped from the edge of the cup piercing their palms. Blood seeped from the wounds and rolled onto the table, congealing into miniature phantoms of World-Ending Demonic Sword. "Stop bragging! Do you know who's behind the Sword Demon?" His Adam's apple bobbed twice, and when he leaned closer, those around him could smell the sour stench of cheap wine mixed with fear from his breath. His sleeves were still stained with yellow soil, a specialty of Shuofang City, with Soil Particles Human Bone Powder mixed in. "Back then, the Blood Shadow Old Monster slaughtered three thousand able-bodied men of Shuofang City in one night to forge the ' Thousand Soul Claws.' Even the Leader of the Orthodox Path, ' True Person Lingxiao,' only dared to block the border with his disciples and curse them in the streets, not daring to cross the Boundary Stone even half a step—the bloodstains under that old monster's fingernails could forge three lives. I heard that he used Infant Leg Bone to grind down each of his fingernails!"
"This brat killed the old monster's only disciple; he's probably going to turn the entire Tianyan Continent upside down!" With that, he gulped down a mouthful of wine, the liquid flowing down his chin and mixing with drops of blood from his palm onto the scar on the table. The scar was remarkably similar in shape to the broken edge of the World-Ending Demonic Sword. The blood droplets that fell into the scar instantly coalesced into miniature phantoms of the demon sword, writhing wildly on the table. His eyes were filled with terror, his pupils reflecting the swaying Wine Flag outside the window, yet he seemed to see the blood-red moonlight of Shuofang City that night, the moonlight filled with floating severed Severed Fingers.
Ten days later, dark Gathered deep within the Taihang Mountains. The spiderwebs in the dilapidated temple trembled slightly in the draft, the dew clinging to the Ice Crystals frozen into ice crystals. In the dim light filtering through the holes in the beams, they shimmered like shattered diamonds, each Ice Crystals reflecting the black aura between Ren Xiaoyao's brows, within which countless tiny figures struggled. He sat cross-legged on a futon, his fingertips forming Sword Seal, yet a wisp of lingering black aura remained between his brows—the Bone-Corroding Demonic Evil had invaded his Extraordinary Meridians when the Sword Demon unleashed " Demonic Flames Burn the Heavens " before his death on Soul Severing Cliff. Now, it was traveling along his meridians, leaving fine black lines on his skin, like a Underworld Map being drawn, each black line connecting to a Demon Cave Markers.
Even now, Circulate Qi and Regulate Breath, he still felt as if his dantian had been plunged into Ten Thousand Year Ice Cave. Every breath carried a metallic, sweet taste, as if rust was being burned. It felt as if countless fine needles were pricking him in his chest, their tips coated with the resentment of the Sword Demon. Each pricking was accompanied by a faint Demonic Cry. Cold sweat beaded on his forehead, dripping down his chin and spreading into dark circles on the tattered futon. The edges of those circles were strangely inky, like miniature demonic flames burning, with half of an unformed Black Butterfly Pupa curled up at its Flame Heart, its Pupa Shell covered with tiny sword marks.
"Squeak--"
The rotten wooden door hinges emitted a teeth-grinding groan, not from the wind, but from an invisible, brute force crushing them from the outside. The copper rings on the door panel clattered to the ground, shattering into several pieces. Each piece of the ring was covered with spiderweb-like cracks, as if gnawed by a thousand years of time. The patina seeping from the cracks had congealed into a blood-red color. In the instant that the cold wind swirled in sand and gravel, the remaining Candle Wick on the altar was extinguished with a "poof." The Mars struggled for a moment before disappearing into the inky darkness. In the instant before the Mars went out, they traced the words "blood shadow" in the air. The wax seeping from the traces turned into blood droplets when it hit the ground.
The temple fell into absolute silence in an instant, with only the faint light filtering through the holes in the beams outlining a Mysterious Black Figure. The person stood in the doorway, seemingly blending into the night, except for the dark gold Skull Vine Pattern embroidered on the hem of his robe, which gleamed eerily in the dim light—with his breath, the gold threads in the skull's eye sockets seemed to pulsate as if alive, and the tendrils of the vines slowly stretched out, with a few drops of undried blood still clinging to the tips of the tendrils. The blood reflected the weeping faces of the Shuofang City Residents, each face silently opening its mouth to cry for help.
Ren Xiaoyao's eyes gleamed coldly in the darkness. The Lingchen Sword was drawn with a clang, its dragon-like Sword Hum piercing the deathly silence. A chilling Sword Qi, like a net, enveloped the doorway. The blade traced a crescent moon in the dim light, reflecting his tightly pursed lips and eagle-like eyes. Yet, a barely perceptible black aura lingered at the corners of his eyes and brows, coiling around them like a thin snake. At this moment, the veins on his wrist bulged; the wounds that had reopened during his cultivation the previous night were bleeding again, the drops freezing on the hilt of his sword. Within the blood droplets, one could vaguely see the Sword Demon's resentful face before his death, his features contorted wildly within the blood.
The newcomer wore a long, dark robe, the fabric seemingly woven from countless Fine Scales, rustling softly with each step, like Snake Shedding skin scraping against the ground. Each step left a half-bloody footprint, the blood seeping from them congealing into tiny Bone Chain on the ground, with uncorrupted knuckles hanging from Bone Chain. His face was hidden beneath a wide hood, deep in the shadows, with only his eyes visible. His pupils were an eerie, ghostly green, like two Phosphorus Fire burning on the banks of the Banks of the Nether River. Wherever he swept his gaze, the spiderwebs in the corners instantly White Frost over, shattering into dust with a "crack." As the Frost Powder fell, it coalesced into countless miniature skulls, each with a half-bloody thread dangling from its mouth.
"Ren, Xiao, Yao..." The voice was squeezed out from the depths of his throat, hoarse as if rotten wood was rubbing against bluestone. Each word was sharp and icy, scraping against the eardrums. The words were mixed with the wails of countless wronged souls, and the cries of infants. "What a ' Lingchen Sword '! What a 'Acting on Behalf of Heaven'!" The words were filled with immense anger, causing the dust in the dilapidated temple to swirl in reverse. In the eerie green light, it condensed into tiny vortexes. At the center of the vortexes, countless distorted faces could be vaguely seen screaming silently. The features of those faces were being swallowed up by the black mist, revealing the white bones beneath.
Ren Xiaoyao's hand gripping the sword showed bulging veins, the tip pointing directly at his opponent's heart. The blade trembled, unleashing several subtle Sword Qi that sliced Incense Ash before him into clean cracks. Dark red blood seeped from the depths of the cracks, converging on the ground to form the character "kill." "Who are Your Excellency?" His voice was calm, yet he secretly circulated his inner True Qi, attempting to suppress the surging Demonic Fiend Qi within him. A thin layer of sweat from his palms slid down the hilt of the sword, leaving damp marks on the Mysterious Iron. As the dampness evaporated, wisps of black vapor emerged, within which countless severed arms appeared.
"My disciple, ' Sword Demon,' was arrogant and ruthless throughout his life, yet he wasn't even worthy to carry my shoes." The Black Robed Man stepped into the temple, his boots crushing the Incense Ash on the ground, leaving deep, bone-revealing footprints. Dark red blood seeped from the edges of the footprints, winding like snakes in the dust, with strands of a baby's hair still wrapped around them, covered with undried scabs. With each step he took, the beams and pillars of the dilapidated temple creaked, tiles fell in a rustling sound, and bats perched on the beams screamed as they crashed into the walls, their brains splattering onto the stone. The brains instantly turned into black mist upon hitting the ground, absorbed by his aura. From within the black mist, the faint cries of a baby could be heard, mixed with the sound of bones breaking.
Before the words were even finished, an overwhelming and unstoppable pressure suddenly descended, like thunder from the Nine Heavens Thunder or Nine Netherworlds pool from the depths of hell. Ren Xiaoyao felt as if a thousand-pound hammer had struck his chest, his blood surging, a sweet taste rising in his throat, and he almost spat out blood. His sword-wielding arm trembled uncontrollably—this aura was neither demonic nor immortal, yet it carried a Annihilation of All Things. He could even see countless blurry faces contorted in pain and emitting silent wails within the black aura surrounding the Black Robed Man. The features of those faces were exactly the same as those carved on the Wrathful Souls Monument of Shuofang City, except that each of them had black claw marks wrapped around their necks, and Black Blood was still seeping from the depths of the claw marks.
"When the Sword Demon slaughtered living beings and massacred the Thirteen Cities, did Your Excellency ever discipline him?" Ren Xiaoyao took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down. His sword tip was as steady as a rock, piercing through the stagnant air around him. The blood droplets dripping from the sword tip condensed into the shape of a sword in mid-air, reflecting the City Emblem of the Thirteen Cities. "He forged the demonic sword with the souls of infants and nourished his Devil Cultivation Method with the flesh and blood of living people. Such evil deeds are intolerable to heaven and earth, and everyone has the right to kill him!" His voice suddenly rose, and his sword intent surged. The Lingchen Sword emitted a clear and melodious sound, actually forcing the surrounding black energy back several inches. The blood droplets on the blade suddenly lit up, like stars weeping blood. The stars reflected the smiling faces of the people of the Thirteen Cities, and golden Sword Aura surrounded the smiling faces.
"Evil deeds?" The Black Robed Man suddenly chuckled, the eerie sound echoing through the temple, making everyone's eardrums ache, like countless fingernails scraping against Glazed Ice. The laughter was punctuated by the sound of bones shattering, each crack accompanied by a scream. "The law of the jungle, the survival of the fittest, is the Tianyan Law. The people he killed were nothing more than fish on a chopping board. Who did it bother? And what does it have to do with you, you hypocritical brat?" As he spoke, wisps of black mist seeped from the shadows beneath his hood, within which emerged countless mangled limbs, their wounds writhing wildly.
Before he finished speaking, his figure Sky-Rending Strike like a ghost, bringing with it a stench of rotting corpses and infant cries, a stench that also concealed countless Curse of resentment. His withered right hand emerged from his sleeve—a hand devoid of color, its knuckles protruding like dry twigs, its fingernails as black as raven beaks, three inches long, with wisps of black energy swirling around its tips. Wherever it passed, the bluestone on the ground bubbled with white, corrosive foam, turning to dust with a "sizzle." The Stone Powder was swept into the air by the black energy, condensing into tiny, illusory Bone Chain, each adorned with fragments of uncorroded human flesh, the patterns on Bone Chain fragments forming the runes of the " Thousand Soul Claws."
" Bone Corroding Claws!" Ren Xiaoyao's pupils constricted sharply. Without thinking, Lingchen Sword instantly unleashed seven sword Sword Flower. The moment the blade clashed with the ghostly claw, there was no clanging of metal, but instead a dull sound like ripping cloth. The sound was mixed with the screams of vengeful spirits, each scream piercing Ren Xiaoyao's meridians like a needle. A chilling, bone-piercing power spread along the sword, like a maggot crawling into his meridians. His arm instantly went numb, his blood seemed to freeze into ice, and the blood in his veins congealed into Black Ice Prisms, covered with tiny cracks, each crack containing a struggling vengeful spirit. A sweet taste rose in his throat, a metallic sweetness, which he swallowed with difficulty. He leaped back ten feet, crashing into the dilapidated temple wall. Bricks and stones fell in a shower. A piece of broken brick hit the incense table behind him, severing the broken memorial tablet in half. Human blood seeped from the broken end of the tablet, and the blood droplets turned into black butterflies as they fell to the ground.
Looking down, a thin layer of black frost, as thin as a cicada's wing, was condensing on the sword 'Black Iron Sword hilt, leaving fine etching patterns. These etching patterns, winding like snakes, formed countless wailing faces on the sword's surface, each face silently calling out " Shuofang City," with black tears of blood still flowing from its eyes.
"Interesting. It can withstand half the force of my ' Bone Corroding Claws '." The Black Robed Man's eyes gleamed even brighter, and a twisted smile spread across his gaunt face, revealing his gleaming white teeth. The tips of his teeth were bluish-black, as if they had been soaked in venom for a thousand years. Fragments of bone were stuck between his teeth, with bits of unrotted flesh still clinging to them. "What a pity, what a pity. Your broken sword can't protect your life!" As he spoke, his hood slipped down half an inch, revealing a neck covered with blood-red claw-shaped birthmarks. Each birthmark represented a life, and when the birthmarks pulsated, tiny beads of blood would seep out, transforming into miniature Thousand Soul Claws upon landing.
Before he finished speaking, the black shadow around him surged, splitting into six afterimages, each wielding a pitch-black ghost claw, attacking simultaneously from the four directions of east, west, south, and north.
Inside the dilapidated temple, black mist surged and Claw Shadow shadows appeared one after another. Each claw gust carried a destructive aura, sending wood chips flying from the beams and pillars. The murals on the walls were instantly corroded into mottled black patches—these black patches, pieced together, vaguely depicted the horrific scene of the massacre in Shuofang City. The people in the murals were being torn apart by countless black claws, their souls struggling futilely in the black mist, emitting shrill screams that only Ren Xiaoyao could hear.
Ren Xiaoyao focused his mind and energy, pushing the " Lingchen Sword Art " to its limit. The Lingchen Sword danced like a rain of light, and amidst the crisscrossing Sword Qi, a silver barrier formed around him. The barrier was shrouded in the cold light of Antarctic Xuanbing, and countless ancient " Demon-Sweeping " seal characters floated within the icy light. Where the sword wind and Claw Shadow shadows collided, a muffled shockwave erupted, causing the ground to crack with spiderweb-like patterns. Dark purple venom seeped from the cracks, staining the dust with an eerie color. After the venom landed, tiny Black Datura grew, exactly like the blood flowers on Soul Severing Cliff. At the heart of each flower was an infant's finger bone, with unbroken meridians still wrapped around it.
"You slew my disciple with your sword, I will tear you to pieces!" The Black Robed Man's voice echoed from all directions, filled with venomous resentment, like countless wronged souls howling in Ren Xiaoyao's ears. The howls were interspersed with the dying screams of the Sword Demon, overlapping with the wailing of Shuofang City, exploding in Ren Xiaoyao's mind. "Today, I will use your flesh and blood to consecrate my disciple's sword! I will use your soul to pave the way for him!" With his roar, the dark clouds outside the dilapidated temple suddenly surged, and a bolt of eerie green lightning tore through the sky, illuminating half of his face beneath his hood—
It was a face as withered as tree bark, its right eye empty, a Black Hole from which glittered white bones, still bound with unrotted flesh, trembling slightly with each breath. In the eerie green pupil of his left eye, Ren Xiaoyao was reflected, surrounded by countless Claw Shadow. Blood vessels crawled along the edges of his pupil, each connected to the soul of a slaughtered victim, writhing wildly within them, trying to break free but only to be tightened further. Fine blood lines etched on his cheeks, each line representing a life, pulsated violently with rage. The blood seeping from these lines condensed in the air into runes of the " Thousand Soul Claws," the droplets splashing as the runes spun, forming miniature pools of blood on the ground, where countless broken finger bones floated.
The eerie green flames flickered in the darkness. Ren Xiaoyao gazed at the countless Claw Shadow, a chilling feeling rising in his heart for the first time. He could feel the Demonic Fiend Qi within his body resonating with the Black Robed Man's claw strikes, frantically assaulting his meridian barriers. The suppressed Demonic Fiend Qi had transformed into countless black snakes, gnawing wildly at his meridians. Their forked tongues were still stained with the Sword Demon's resentment. With each bite, a new black line appeared on his skin. The battle at Soul Severing Cliff was merely the prelude. The strength of this " Blood Shadow Old Monster " was a hundred times more terrifying than the rumors suggested. The strangeness of his Devil Cultivation Method was so great that it could aggravate his internal injuries, making every swing of his sword feel like tearing his own meridians apart. As the blood dripped from the blade, it even condensed into the phantom character "defeat" on the ground.
He took a deep breath and poured his last bit of True Qi into the Lingchen Sword. The sword burst forth with a dazzling silver light in the darkness, like the first rays of dawn. The silver light was mixed with blood-red Sword Qi, and wherever the Sword Qi passed, the black energy melted away like ice and snow. The blood droplets on the blade were now completely absorbed into the sword, transforming into a blood-red sword pattern. That was the ultimate move of the " Lingchen Sword Art "—" Heavenly Light Breaks Delusion "—which he had activated with his heart's blood. As the sword pattern flowed, it actually wrote the two characters " Demon-Sweeping " in the air. The edges of the characters burned with Nine Heavens Mysterious Fire. When the flames fell, they burned away all the Black Mandalas on the ground, revealing the snow-white phantom of the Sword Mound below.
Amidst the Sword Hum, a ring of icy blue Sword Aura suddenly erupted around Ren Xiaoyao —the " Myriad Ice Returns to Origin " phenomenon that only appears when the Lingchen Sword recognizes its master. The instant the Sword Aura spread, the black energy at his temples was forcibly forced out, transforming into a ferocious black snake that lunged at the Black Robed Man, only to turn to ashes upon contact with the Mysterious Fire. Upon seeing this, the Black Robed Man's pupils constricted sharply, and his withered right hand swiftly formed a hand seal. The black energy around him instantly surged, condensing into a massive blood-red palm print behind him. On each of the palm print's five fingers wore Bone Ring made from the Infant Leg Bone, the characters "Thousand Souls" inscribed on their surfaces, each stroke formed from the wails of countless wronged souls.
"Too late!" The Blood Shadow Old Monster's voice was filled with manic laughter as his palm struck down with a deafening roar. The air in its path was stained crimson, and the beams and pillars of the dilapidated temple shattered inch by inch under the force of his palm strike. Tiles shot towards Ren Xiaoyao like Mysterious Fire Hidden Weapon. But Ren Xiaoyao's eyes remained unusually calm. The Lingchen Sword suddenly emitted a clear and melodious cry. The crimson sword patterns on the blade merged with the icy blue Sword Aura energy, and a burning Ice Lotus appeared at the tip of the sword—a " Ice Fire Returns to Origin " form that the Lingchen Sword had never shown since its birth. As the Ice Lotus spun, the surrounding air condensed into countless tiny sword embryos, shimmering with a chilling light in the darkness.