A bleak, ancient aura appeared before Old Sun and the blacksmith in an instant.
Old Sun jumped in fright. His trembling hands carefully lifted the blue robe, revealing a broken sword covered in rust, yet radiating a bone-chilling cold.
Wang Xian reached out and picked up the Town-Repressing Sword.
He flicked it lightly. A clear sword ring rang out—clang!—and shot straight into the sky. A streak of divine light burst from the library, as if it would cleave the heavens apart.
The blacksmith gaped, stunned. "Th-this... is this a Divine Sword?"
"The Divine Sword that Represses Heaven."
After saying this, Wang Xian placed half of the Divine Sword in front of the blacksmith.
He smiled faintly. "This is the Town-Repressing Divine Sword from ten million years ago. The other half rests with the old general, buried in eternal sleep beneath the barbarian tribe's sacred mountain..."
"That's for the best. The Divine Sword is split in two: one half stays with the old general, guarding that world; the other is yours to reforge, so you can fulfill your wish."
Holy crap!
At those words, the blacksmith nearly fainted on the spot.
The corner of Old Sun's eye twitched violently. He muttered, "Who would've thought this was the legendary Town-Repressing Divine Sword, spoken of for a thousand years? Who would've thought you'd really brought it home?"
The blacksmith drew a breath, trembling all over.
A huge tear fell onto half the Divine Sword. He murmured, "Just seeing the Divine Sword makes my life worthwhile, even if I die now."
Wang Xian smiled. "It's yours now... Take a few years to reforge it. What do you say?"
"Huh?"
At this, the blacksmith stood there dumbstruck again.
Clutching the Divine Sword tightly, he asked in disbelief, "Th-this... how is that possible?"
Old Sun shook