Stepping Onto the Stage to Draw His Sword

As he spoke, the sword-drawing on the arena continued.

By now, the middle-aged man had used all his strength. Yuan force swirled around him, his blood qi seethed, and the veins on his neck bulged as thick as tree roots—yet he still couldn't budge the iron sword even a fraction. After holding on for a moment longer, the man finally let out a heavy gasp, shook his head, and said, "I give up."

A wave of jeers erupted from below the stage.

"Get down already. With strength like that, you dare come up and make a fool of yourself? Utterly clueless."

"Exactly. This stage has been set up for nearly half a month now. How many prodigies, heroes, and great clan masters have come to try their hand? None succeeded. I say this sword is impossible for anyone to pull out."

"What do you think the Qin Family is playing at with this stunt? Are they just messing with people?"

Just then, a young man appeared in the crowd. He wore a blue brocade robe, carried a white paper fan in hand, and was adorned with gold and jade—his bearing extraordinary, as if he came from notable origins. Hearing the crowd's confusion, the young man fanned himself and stepped forward to join the chatter. "Ah, you wouldn't know about this. This sword of the Qin Family has no ordinary background. It's said to be the weapon of their ancestor from a thousand years ago, the 'White-robed Divine King' Qin Taixuan. Some claim that when the Qin Family first found this sword, they received a prophecy: 'When the Taixuan Sword emerges, the Qin Family shall rise again.'

In other words, whoever can draw this sword is the one who can restore the Qin Family's glory. If that's true, how could this sword possibly be drawn so easily?"

The crowd suddenly understood. "So that's how it is. Can't even the Qin Family's own people draw it?"

The young man smiled freely and continued, "This kind of thing is a matter of the Destiny Chosen. It has nothing to do with being a member of the Qin Family. Over the years, the Qin Family has declined, their position unstable, barely holding onto their status as a second-rate clan. They had no other choice but to pin their hopes on this 'Taixuan Sword.' Otherwise, do you think they'd be offering Flying Bird City's 'number one beauty' and going all out to help whoever draws the sword reach the pinnacle of martial arts? Hah... nothing that sweet comes for free. In the end, it's all for the Qin Family!"

The crowd buzzed with shock.

They hadn't imagined that a simple sword-drawing could hide so many layers.

Shen Zhou glanced at the young man, curious. "Who are you? How do you know so much?"

The latter smiled mysteriously. "This Humble One's surname is Chu. Like you, I'm just here to watch the fun. As for the source of my information, this Young Master has his own channels."

Seeing Chu putting on airs, Shen Zhou's face twisted with disdain. He snorted and pressed on, "Since you know so much, do you know what's so special about this 'Taixuan Sword'? Why does the Qin Family believe that drawing it will revive their clan?"

Young Master Chu laughed. "You folks must be new to Flying Bird City. This is no secret here. Ever since the Qin Family set up this stage, people have speculated that the 'Taixuan Sword' is a Divine King's weapon, surely already born with a sword spirit. Not only can the sword merge into a cultivator's body, but it might even carry its own storage space—countless secret treasures, elixirs, and cultivation resources the Divine King once collected could still be inside. What's more, if the sword has a spirit, whoever draws it is bound to receive the sword spirit's guidance and obtain the 'Divine King's inheritance.' With all that, wouldn't it be enough to revive a mere Qin Family?"

Shen Zhou couldn't have cared less about some 'Divine King's weapon.' He was only standing here out of curiosity, to watch the spectacle. But when he heard Chu mention that the sword could store items, his eyes lit up. Ignoring his earlier disdain, he grabbed the latter's arm and asked, "Wait... you said this sword can store things and be absorbed into a cultivator's body?"

Young Master Chu was startled by Shen Zhou's sudden reaction. He leaned back warily. "Y-yes, that's right. What are you planning?"

Shen Zhou pressed on excitedly, "And is this sword sturdy enough? It won't snap if I put some force into it, will it?"

Young Master Chu found the question baffling but still replied, "Sturdy? Absolutely. A Divine King's weapon—indestructible and unstoppable, to say the least. How could it possibly break?"

"Then it's perfect for me!"

Shen Zhou let go in delight, then whipped his head around to stare at the stage, his eyes burning with fervor. He'd already mastered the knack of using a sword, and a wooden sword could withstand his abuse, but if he could get an indestructible divine weapon for free, why not? More crucially, the sword could store items and be absorbed into a martial artist's body—it was practically tailor-made for him!

Freed at last, Young Master Chu hurriedly straightened his clothes. Hearing Shen Zhou's earlier words, he couldn't help but laugh mockingly. "Perfect for you? Little brother, let's set aside where you get your confidence. Just look at this sword. Countless noble clans, martial giants, geniuses, and heroes—so many have failed to draw it. Do you really think you can? Since you can't draw it, how can it be 'perfect'?"

Chu shook his head, practically saying, "Go cool off somewhere else."

Shen Zhou raised an eyebrow noncommittally. "Just because others can't draw it, does that mean I can't? Watch closely with your eyes wide open. You'll see whether this sword suits me or not."

With that, Shen Zhou, brimming with confidence, pushed his way toward the stage.

"That guy's actually going?"

Young Master Chu was stunned, then let out a derisive laugh. "I don't know whether to call him a fearless newborn calf or someone who doesn't know his place. Fine. I'll see what kind of stir he can make."

Chu adjusted his clothes and prepared to watch the upcoming joke.

Meanwhile, the three little ones beside him had been dumbfounded from start to finish. Watching Shen Zhou shove toward the stage, San Mazi quickly asked A Dai, "What's going on? What's Zhou Boss trying to do?"

A Dai was equally shocked. "He must have his eye on that sword on the stage."

San Mazi: "Huh? Didn't he say he didn't need a sword anymore? Besides, so many people couldn't pull it out. Can Zhou Boss really do it?"

A Dai shook his head. "I don't know. Let's just watch."

Xi Mei, on the other hand, clenched her little fist and blindly believed, "Zhou Gege can definitely do it!"

Amid the clamor, wave after wave of sword-drawers took the stage, only to fail without exception. Still, from the earlier attempts, some patterns emerged: this sword-drawing seemed to have no rules. No restrictions on identity, origin, age, or gender—anyone interested could step up and try.

"That saves trouble."

By now, Shen Zhou had already arrived at the side of the arena. Looking up, he saw quite a few people trying to pull the sword—there was even a line. Fortunately, the process was quick; those who went up would step down on their own after a few futile attempts, so there was no delay.

The crowd thinned, and soon it was Shen Zhou's turn.

He stepped onto the arena and looked out at the sea of dark figures below.

The Qin Family had set up this arena for half a month now. Though it was no longer as sensational as at the start, there were still plenty of people who loved a good spectacle.

Earlier, everyone who went up to pull the sword had been met with jeers, mockery, and ridicule from the crowd below—it had become a source of entertainment for them.

Now that Shen Zhou was on stage, he naturally wasn't spared.

"Hey... look, here comes a little kid."

"He hasn't even grown his fuzz yet, and he's already thinking about women?"

"These youngsters these days don't want to work hard at such a young age. Truly, the world is going downhill."

"Even the young masters of the five great families couldn't do it. This kid doesn't stand a chance!"

On the arena, the Qin Family steward in charge judged people by their appearance. Seeing that Shen Zhou was young, he urged impatiently, "Hurry up back there. Don't dawdle and waste time."

Shen Zhou's mind was entirely on the Greenstone Iron Sword, so he paid no heed to the taunts from below or the disdain beside him. After stepping onto the stage, he walked straight toward the Greenstone Iron Sword, his eyes full of anticipation. "I am 'Sword Invincible,' and it is 'Destiny Chosen.' Now let's see—is my 'cheat' stronger, or is its 'destiny' greater!"

With that, Shen Zhou reached the greenstone, then reached out and grasped the sword.

The Entry activated, and power surged wildly.

The iron sword seemed to sense something, trembling slightly before generating a force of repulsion.

"Oh? Could this sword really have a spirit?"

Shen Zhou noticed this, but instead of being alarmed, he was delighted. He gripped the hilt tightly and began to pull.

The iron sword had a spirit, and its resistance grew stronger. Holding it felt like lifting a mountain.

Shen Zhou's fighting spirit blazed. He let out a low mental shout, "'Entry,' give me more output!"

The Entry's power suddenly intensified. Terrifying fluctuations of primal energy overflowed from Shen Zhou's body, forming a dark-yellow aura around him. The greenstone beneath his feet cracked into two large pits, a testament to the sheer ferocity of his strength.

But the iron sword had a temper of its own. A jet-black arcane light immediately rose from its blade, forming a protective barrier that enveloped the entire greenstone.

Zzzzz...

The two auras clashed, surging and humming against each other. The overflowing energy caused the entire arena to buckle, spiderweb cracks spreading across its surface.

"Look! What's happening on the stage?"

"The Qin Family's iron sword is reacting so quickly? That's never happened before."

"Could this kid be the destined one for the Qin Family's iron sword? How is that possible!"

Below the arena, the crowd that had been mocking Shen Zhou fell silent the moment the iron sword erupted with black arcane light. Their jeers were replaced by gasps of astonishment and disbelief.

But none of this mattered to Shen Zhou. His focus was entirely on the iron sword.

Seeing the iron sword's resistance grow stronger, Shen Zhou's excitement only increased. He couldn't help but roar, "'Entry,' don't back down! Let me see your limits—give me more output!"

As he spoke, the dark-yellow aura on the stage exploded in power, its range suddenly expanding until it covered the entire arena.

In comparison, the iron sword's aura now seemed as insignificant as a baby before Shen Zhou's overwhelming presence.

Crack, crack, crack...

After another moment of stalemate, the black protective barrier finally began to show signs of collapse under the pressure.

Just then, a soft, youthful girl's voice suddenly rang out in Shen Zhou's mind, tinged with urgency. "Let go quickly! The one I'm waiting for isn't you..."

Shen Zhou was startled. "Huh? Who's talking?"