Divine Sword Spirit Soul

"The Great Calamity of Huaixu."

These stories were things An Jing had vaguely glimpsed in the fragments of ancient texts; they were records from at least tens of thousands of years ago, and many historical documents were blurry and unclear.

The ancient immortal people eventually drove out the Heavenly Demon and established many nations once again. The progenitor of Da Chen was one of them, and through the long Warring States period, it eventually became the largest nation in Beixuan Jizhou.

The content of the murals was nearing its end, and the further inward one went, the richer and more complete the depictions became, with some clearly having been painted or touched up by later generations.

An Jing's expression, however, grew increasingly grave.

Because he saw the resurrection of the Heavenly Demon.

Over the long flow of time, even after the statues of the sword immortals of yesteryear had collapsed, a sky-piercing Devilish Qi erupted from Xuanming Valley, vaguely forming the image of the Heavenly Demon.

It guided the waters of a hundred rivers to scour Xuanming Valley—which was not originally a river valley—to wear down the seals, intending to break free. The ancestors, however, used this to their advantage, constructing a ley line formation based on the mountains and rivers to seal the Heavenly Demon once more.

That was the origin of the current Xuanming Valley.

"The Heavenly Demon actually resurrected once?"

An Jing whispered, "Fuxie, were you not awake at that time?"

"I do not know..." The Sword Spirit's tone was also heavy. "My memories... are missing too much."

"When was I shattered? It seems to have been some time after I extinguished that Heavenly Demon. I even remember my fragments being worshipped in this place; someone intended to use the power of the masses' sacrifices and the stimulation of the Heavenly Demon to make me awaken and be reborn. This is the prototype of the formation that allowed you to awaken your Fate Grid..."

"Yes, the original Xuanming Valley did not have a river, and there were many sacrificial caves on both sides of the valley walls... but as for the details of the Heavenly Demon's later resurrection and the second sealing, I really do not know."

An Jing nodded slightly. He had actually noticed something strange: the hilt of the Sword Spirit was unearthed in the Northern Frontier, his own hometown, and only arrived at Xuanming Valley in the northwest by chance, where it was kept in the Demonic Cult's storage room.

The power hidden within the hilt had not been discovered, and while the main consciousness of the Sword Spirit was on the hilt, the fragments had no consciousness of their own.

Xuanming Valley was occupied by Devilish Qi, and the Demonic Cult dared not enter, yet the Sword Spirit could suppress the Devilish Qi upon arrival, showing its restraint over such energy.

However, the 'fragments' in the valley had never reacted violently to the Devilish Qi, requiring rituals to suppress it.

Although the ley line sword energy summoned by the ritual formation proved its existence, its state was likely not optimistic.

Speaking of which, the fragments of the Sword Spirit were scattered across various places back then, and some were even located in other worlds...

An Jing instinctively felt that the events behind all this were very complex.

And indeed, for an immortal sword of a sword immortal to be shattered, there must be an incredibly complicated background.

This was the karma he had to bear for borrowing the power of the Sword Spirit, so after exhaling a breath, he continued forward.

Soon, the long corridor reached its end.

A massive, semi-circular hall that looked entirely unnatural appeared in the depths of the canyon.

Before entering the hall, there was a '√'-shaped staircase, so the interior was quite clean and tidy, with no traces of being flooded by water; one could vaguely see the remains of rotten meditation cushions in the center.

An Jing walked out of the corridor and into this artificially polished semi-circular hall.

And there, he saw the 'divine object' placed at the deepest part of the hall, upon a towering jade altar.

[Fragment of the Sword Blade]

A thick, diamond-shaped sword blade shimmering with silver-green radiance.

An Jing was slightly stunned. For a moment, he felt an extremely familiar sensation, as if he had seen this fragment millions of times—but soon, he realized this was a feeling the Sword Spirit was transmitting to him. The Rusty Sword trembled slightly in his Divine Sea: "This is my Sword Root... but strange, where is the protective formation?"

An Jing looked around and discovered that the four walls and the dome of the entire semi-circular hall were covered in dense mountain and sea cloud patterns, dragon seals, and phoenix scripts, which vaguely formed a massive formation on the pale green jade.

But it was not functioning.

Or rather, it had been destroyed.

On the pale green jade, there were streaks of gray-black marks spreading out. The jade covered by these marks was rough, withered, and lacked any warmth or spirituality.

It was like the state of a person after death; the jade had lost all vitality and moisture, and over thousands of years, it had gradually 'rotted' into its current appearance.

"Heavenly Demon erosion," An Jing whispered. "Only the core area is still somewhat intact."

"Fortunately, there is still time." The Sword Spirit was somewhat anxious but calmed down. "Go and take it, An Jing, wielder of the sword. Take my fragment; you have the qualifications."

"Mm."

An Jing nodded slightly. He walked forward and arrived at the altar.

On the stairs, layers of jade-white halos lit up. Just as the Sword Spirit had said, they did not hinder An Jing, allowing him to reach the top of the altar smoothly.

At this moment, even with his temperament, his heartbeat quickened.

An Jing took a deep breath, suppressed his impulses, and slowly reached out to touch the fragment of the sword blade.

And at that very instant, silver light flared.

The green color that had originally covered the jade broken sword and the altar suddenly bloomed with halos, illuminating the entire hemispherical cave hall. The pale green jade on the inner sides of the hall also flashed with radiance, the various halos interweaving to form a fairyland-like mist.

Standing in the center of this fairyland, An Jing's expression changed slightly, because as he touched it, the light on the blade and the altar was rapidly condensing. The originally sharp, sturdy silver and the warm, spiritual green were rapidly fading, turning into the same lifeless gray-black as the jade on the walls eroded by the Heavenly Demon, like the decaying corpse of a dead man.

All vitality and spirituality condensed into An Jing's hand, turning into a blurry fragment of light!

Then, this incomplete sword fragment flew toward An Jing's forehead with a clear, ethereal arc—and then, with the assistance of the Sword Spirit, it merged into his mind!

Without retreating, An Jing stood tall. He raised his hand to touch his forehead, discovering no wounds and that the moisture was merely cold sweat, only then did he heave a sigh of relief.

"You scared me, Fuxie. Don't do something so stimulating next time, or at least tell me in advance."

To be honest, An Jing hated that he had trained himself too well; if he hadn't been in such good shape, he could have just plopped onto the ground and taken the opportunity to lie there and breathe heavily.

However, An Jing's horse stance was as steady as if it were forged from iron, to the point that even as cold sweat poured down his body, soaking his clothes, he remained standing perfectly straight, forced to expend his energy and focus to calm his mind bit by bit.

In his Divine Sea, above the hilt and guard of the Broken Blade, a section of blade had appeared; this blade was illusory, shimmering with radiance and releasing wisps of pale silver aura, which vaguely caused An Jing's comprehension of the Qingjing Sword Temple to rise by a significant margin.

He wasn't worried that the Sword Spirit had tried to possess him just now, because the Sword Spirit itself was also extremely stunned: "How could this be... my blade, it has actually decayed, leaving only the spirit?!"

"I had long since attained immortality and indestructibility; even my fragments were eternal and unwearing, how could I have decayed to such a state?"

An Jing didn't know what realm of existence the Sword Spirit had reached in the past, but the other party's behavior had never been condescending, and their exchanges and suggestions had always been peaceful and polite; this was the first time he had seen the Sword Spirit lose its composure like this.

Even so, An Jing really wanted to retort: what immortality and indestructibility, wasn't your original body just a broken Rusty Sword before? Why are you so surprised that the blade has decayed?

But this wasn't the limit—the next instant, An Jing sensed the broken sword in his Divine Sea trembling violently, followed by a voice so stunned it was almost bewildered: "How, how is this possible?!"

"Within my blade, there is actually no memory of mine?!"