A small half of the blade had sunk into the scorched earth, and the exposed part was covered in dark-gray ash, yet the six characters along the ridge—"Settle the Human Dao, Subdue the Eight Wastelands"—were still clear. In the grooves of the inscription, a thread of dim gold occasionally flashed, like lingering body heat.
Three-colored jewels were inlaid in the hilt, their halos faintly shifting against the backdrop of ash.
Ji Fa raised his hand, five fingers spread, hovering three inches above the hilt.
Wind swept over the ruins, lifting a wisp of ash that struck the back of his hand.
Ji Fa's hand did not stop. His five fingers closed and gripped the hilt.
The instant his hand closed around the hilt, his entire arm went numb from wrist bone to shoulder. It was a warm pulse like electricity, flowing backward from the hilt into his body, each beat slamming against the bony walls of his chest.
The Mandate of Heaven belonged to Zhou!
His voice carried a roughness that had been suppressed too long and was finally released, along with the thrill of overthrowing King Zhou of Shang.
This was the Emperor Sword passed down from the ancient Xuanyuan Clan. To obtain it was to obtain the orthodox rule over the Human Race's world. From this moment on, he would be the new Human Emperor.
"From this day forth, We are—"
The words "Son of Heaven" had not yet fallen.
The blade let out a mournful cry like a dragon's roar.
Immediately afterward, cracks crawled from top to bottom, covering the entire ridge of the sword.
Shards scattered and flew in all directions. One piece grazed past Ji Fa's cheekbone, leaving a blood mark as fine as a strand of hair.
Ji Fa lowered his head and looked