Is it enough?

"The gameplay of merging two regions?"

Yang Wudi tugged at his beard, his face blank.

Zhou Xuan was in no hurry to explain. He rose and walked to the wall, rummaged through the pile of dusty, discarded Dharma Artifacts, picked out an iron sword whose edge had curled over, then found a bronze shield cracked into three pieces, and finally lifted a dull gray ore.

He set the three items on the table, and they rang out three times, clang, clang, clang.

"How many Spirit Stones are this junk worth?" Zhou Xuan patted the dust from his hands.

Yang Wudi glanced at them and gave a scoff. "How many? No one would take them even for free. They're not even worth throwing back into the furnace to reforge."

"What about over in the Western Desolate Region?" Zhou Xuan looked at Yang Mie.

Yang Mie shook his head. "Not worth a single Spirit Stone."

"Good."

Zhou Xuan picked up the iron sword with the curled edge and pinched the middle of the blade between two fingers.

He did not stir his True Essence, nor did he circulate any visible fluctuation of Spiritual Power.

His fingers merely tightened slightly, and a layer of extremely thin golden radiance seeped from his fingertips, slowly spreading along the rust-mottled blade.

The change happened within two breaths.

Rust flaked away. The cracks that had once covered the blade healed at a speed visible to the naked eye. The curled edge straightened itself and became sharp enough to cut through the gaze.

A warm silver-white sheen surfaced on the dark-gray metal, and several naturally formed Spirit Patterns roamed along the fuller before finally stabilizing into shape.

A second-tier Spirit Sword of excellent quality.

Zhou Xuan casually tossed the Spirit Sword to Yang Wudi.

Yang Wudi caught it