Blood Sword Returns to its Master, Container of the Calamity Moon?
It was an indescribable chill.
Yun Jingheng's pupils contracted violently, almost shrinking to the size of a pinhead.
The blood-red longsword hanging in the air made no movement whatsoever, not even a trace of Soul Power fluctuation, yet every cell in Yun Jingheng's body was screaming wildly.
Run! Run now!
If we don't escape, we'll be eaten! We'll be chewed up, skin and bones, soul and all!
This fear does not stem from rational judgment, but from the most primal instinct of living beings to seek advantage and avoid harm.
"Creak..."
Yun Jingheng heard the sound of his teeth chattering.
He wanted to move, to turn around, to escape the monster's sight.
But I can't move.
Although the tip of that blood-stained sword was pointed at his heart, what truly locked him down was the "momentum" flowing through the blade.
That wasn't murderous intent.
The killing intent was cold and sharp.
This "momentum" is viscous.
Yun Jingheng felt his blood start to flow backward.
He could even feel the blood-red sword cheering!
The blood-red Moonlight Sword hovered for a moment, and then it moved.
With an almost frantic desire, straight, resolute, and unstoppable—
It pierced through Yun Jingheng's heart in an instant.
"Laugh--"
That was the sound of flesh being pierced.
It's very light, as light as the wind blowing through paper.
But everyone present heard it.
Ha Luosa's Pluto Sword hovered in mid-air, his deathly gray eyes narrowed slightly, and a sickly smile appeared on his handsome face.
"Zhao, welcome back."
Yun Jingheng lowered his head.
He saw the tip of the sword pierce through his chest, the blade shimmering with an eerie, bloody light that reflected in his own gradually fading pupils.
There was no pain.
It even felt a little warm.
The Moonlight Sword he held in his hand shattered, leaving only the hilt.
"... What is this 'nm'...?"
His voice was extremely weak; he heard someone calling him, but...
Why is the sound so quiet?
The moment Ye Xinglan spotted the man in black, she ran towards Yun Jingheng. She watched helplessly as the blood-red sword pierced through his defenses and plunged into his chest.
"Jing Heng--!"
She rushed over like a madwoman, grabbed his shoulders, and cried out, "Jing Heng! What's wrong?! Look up at me!"
Yun Jingheng slowly raised his head, his pupils unfocused.
The blood-red longsword that pierced his heart was melting, its blade transforming into a stream of blood-red light at a visible speed, seeping into his wound.
"Jing Heng! Jing Heng! Say something!"
Ye Xinglan's tone was anxious, her hands on his shoulders, her palms covered in cold sweat.
She was too close.
I was so close I could see the beads of blood clots on his eyelashes, so close I could smell the unfamiliar, unsettling scent emanating from him.
It has a rusty smell.
She was completely unaware that the sword that had pierced him had vanished.
Hilt, blade, tip --
It all merged into his body.
And his left hand was moving.
The movement was very slow, as slow as a machine that hadn't been used for a long time.
Slowly curl your fingers, press your thumb down on your ring and little fingers, and bring your index and middle fingers together forward.
Pointing a sword.
Stiff, unnatural, as if it had been forcibly shaped by some external force.
Yun Jingheng's expression remained unchanged.
But his left hand was moving.
That hand wasn't his.
Or rather, that hand no longer belonged to him.
The hand is rising.
The direction your fingertips are pointing--
Ye Xinglan's throat.
"Danger--!"
Wu Zhangkong's voice exploded in the night sky.
His body moved faster than his voice.
Despite the blood still gushing from his chest wound and the healing Soul Master treating him, the moment he saw Yun Jingheng's left hand form a sword finger, he was sprang up from the ground as if propelled by a spring.
Ice-blue Soul Power exploded beneath his feet, freezing the ground. His figure traced a piercing shriek across the ice as he charged toward Ye Xinglan at incredible speed.
But it was too late for him.
He was too far away.
Twenty meters.
Fifteen meters.
Ten meters --
The sword was already five centimeters in front of Ye Xinglan's neck.
A thin layer of blood-red light flowed around his fingertips; that light wasn't Soul Power, but something deeper, more essential—
die.
The image of that finger was reflected in Ye Xinglan's pupils.
Her mind went completely blank at that moment.
It wasn't because of fear.
It was because she saw Yun Jingheng's face.
That face she knew so well.
The face sweating profusely on Shrek's training grounds, the face quietly reading a book under the moonlight, the face with a confident smile standing in front of her during battle.
There was nothing on that face at that moment.
There was no anger, no murderous intent, no pain, no struggle.
It's just an empty shell.
"... Jing... Heng?"
Her voice was so soft it was almost inaudible, like a fallen leaf blown by the wind onto the water's surface, without even causing a ripple.
Sword finger thrust out--
"Clang--!"
A deafening, metallic sound exploded in the night sky.
The moment the golden light collided with the blood-red light, the air was torn apart, creating a visible shockwave that spread in all directions.
Ye Xinglan was thrown away by the shockwave, her back slamming into the metal of a train car. The metal dented, and she spat out a mouthful of blood before her body slumped to the ground.
Ignoring the pain, she abruptly looked up—
A golden dragon claw.
Its five fingers were covered with fine golden scales, the tips were as sharp as knives, and there were faint dragon patterns flowing on the back of its claws, exuding the pressure of an ancient behemoth.
The dragon claw firmly blocked Yun Jingheng's thrusting sword finger.
Golden Soul Power and crimson light clashed fiercely between their fingers.
Tang Wulin stood in front of Yun Jingheng.
His eyes gleamed with a faint golden light, and something seemed to be burning deep within his pupils.
That was the bloodline of the Golden Dragon King roaring within him, the ancient power awakening deep within his soul.
"Jing Heng--! Wake up! It's us!"
Yun Jingheng tilted his head stiffly, then a slight smile appeared on his lips.
At the same time.
Shrek Academy.
The top floor of the Library, located at the deepest part of the Inner Court.
Long Yeyue suddenly stood up.
The chair tipped over with a loud crash in the silent Library.
She didn't help him up.
She didn't even notice.
Her eyes were fixed on the open book on the table, a historical anecdote from three hundred years ago, written by a wandering bard who traveled across the continent.
"Zhao Yunhong, the Calamity Moon Douluo, once held a title based on his sword. His sword was neither Martial Soul nor Soul Bone, but a pseudo-divine weapon created by compressing Soul Power to the extreme."
"There were two swords, the silver-white Bright Moon and the scarlet Blood Moon. When the Calamity Moon perished, the Bright Moon Sword broke and vanished in an unnamed wilderness, while the Blood Moon Sword's whereabouts remain unknown."
Their whereabouts are unknown.
Those four words were like a needle, piercing Long Yeyue's heart.
She searched through the entire book, and then through all the classic texts on the table.
There are no further records.
Regarding the whereabouts of the Blood Moon Sword, whether it will reappear, and its relationship with its host—
Not a single word.
But she doesn't need any more words.
Because she already knew the answer.
Twelve years ago, Yun Ming and Ya Li found a newborn baby in that "nameless wilderness".
That wilderness was no ordinary wilderness.
That's where the Calamity Moon Douluo fell.
Everyone thought it was just an abandoned child.
no.
He was left there.
By whom?
Long Yeyue didn't know.
But she knew one thing—
The Blood Moon Sword, which disappeared a thousand years ago, has not perished, nor has it vanished.
It is waiting.
Waiting for a container.
Waiting for a body.
It awaits a host capable of bearing its power.
And it got what it was waiting for.
Yun Jingheng, the child she had watched grow up since infancy, was the vessel she had waited for for a thousand years.
It's not a coincidence.
It's design.
It was designed a thousand years ago.
Long Yeyue's gaze fell on the last line of the book, and her pupils suddenly contracted.
She ignored that line three times because it was written within a passage that was clearly the author's subjective conjecture.
"Some say that the Blood Moon Sword is not merely an inanimate object. It possesses a spirit, and as long as the spirit remains, the sword will not die. Where does this spirit reside? No one knows. However, the blood and bones of the Calamity Moon may be its dwelling place."
Blood and bones from the Calamity Moon.
The bloodline of the Calamity Moon Douluo.
What if the Calamity Moon Douluo has no descendants?
What if the Blood Moon Sword can't wait for the bloodline of the Calamity Moon?
Will it settle for second best?
Choose a child who "possesses a Moon Martial Soul"?
Moon- Martial Soul are already rare, and Yun Jingheng's Martial Soul is not even listed in any known moon-type Martial Soul charts.
Long Yeyue had always found it strange.
Now she doesn't find it strange anymore.
Because that's not Martial Soul.
Those are marks.
It was a mark left by the Calamity Moon Douluo a thousand years ago on that desolate land, which was attached to that baby.
It was his qualification to become the vessel for the Blood Moon Sword.
Long Yeyue took a deep breath.
Her face was expressionless.
But her hands were trembling.
Even with her cultivation level Limit Douluo, her fingers were trembling.
She closed the ancient book, tucked it into her bosom, and with a swift turn, leaped out of the Library window.
The night wind whistled past her ears, and the Shrek buildings rushed past beneath her feet.
She landed in front of the gate of the innermost Inner Court.
There was no knocking.
He pushed open the courtyard gate with one hand.
The wooden door shattered, scattering fragments everywhere.
In the courtyard, Yun Ming was enjoying tea.
Ya Li sat beside him, holding a Parenting Manual in her hand.
She was researching information about puberty because Yun Jingheng hadn't been behaving well lately.
They both looked up at the same time.
Upon seeing Long Yeyue's appearance, Yun Ming's pupils suddenly contracted.
He had never seen the old dean show such an expression before.
It's not anger.
It's not anxiety.
It is fear.
"Elder Long?"
"The place where you found Yun Jingheng-- "
Long Yeyue's voice was so hoarse it didn't sound like her own.
That's no ordinary wilderness.
"That's where Zhao Yunhong, the Calamity Moon Douluo, fell a thousand years ago."
Yun Ming's face turned pale instantly.
Ya Li's hand paused, Parenting Manual slipped from her fingers, falling silently to the ground.
"That sword—"
Before Long Yeyue could finish speaking, the Communication Soul Tool in Yun Ming's arms suddenly began to vibrate violently.
Yun Ming glanced down—it was the emergency communication channel assigned to Cai Yue'er.
He answered the call.
It wasn't just one voice coming from the other end, but a multitude of voices mixed together.
The roar of colliding Soul Power, the crisp sound of metal clashing, some roared, some screamed.
Then came a sharp, tearful voice—
"Pavilion Master! We've been attacked by a large number of Evil Soul Master! Ha Luosa is leading the team personally!"
"Teacher Cai was shot down by Ha Luosa, and Teacher Wu was seriously injured--"
"And—there's another Black-Robed Figure! He brought a box!"
There's a sword in the box--
"A blood-red sword--!"
The voice paused for a moment.
It was as if something terrifying was happening, and the student didn't know how to describe it.
"That sword—"
"That sword pierced Yun Jingheng's heart!"
A deafening roar came from the other end of the communication line, as if something had exploded.
Then the signal was lost.
"Beep--"
busy tone.
A deathly busy signal.
Yun Ming's hand holding the Soul Tool froze in mid-air, his whole body like a stone sculpture.
The next second, it transformed into a streak of light and burst through the roof.