Time slipped quietly by.
It was now the ninety-fifth year.
This year saw the greatest changes.
That day, Ye Lin walked as usual.
When he reached the middle of the path, his mind, the stone slabs beneath his feet, and the auras of countless blade cultivators who had been moved here over the past eighty-odd years unknowingly fell into complete harmony, inspiration struck him, and he took a step forward.
That step looked ordinary, yet it seemed to land upon some wondrous node.
Boom...
A deep, resounding muffled boom, as though it came from the depths of the earth—or from primordial ages long past—suddenly spread outward from Ye Lin's small courtyard!
Immediately afterward, the entirety of Holy Blade City gave a slight tremor.
At the heart of the city, the Holy Blade Remains that had lain silent for countless years—the dark-golden, hundred-zhang blade tip—actually gave a faint shudder from end to end.
Though the tremor was minuscule, an ancient, desolate aura carrying a trace of faint palpitations slowly brushed across the entire city, like the long breath of a slumbering colossal beast.
In that instant!
Every blade cultivator in the city, regardless of cultivation level or location, felt something at the very same moment.
They felt the blades they carried, or the blade intent they cultivated within themselves, give a faint, resonant tremble.
As if something had gently plucked the string that connected every blade cultivator to the very origin of the blade.
Blade Fanatic had been silently watching it all from the platform in the clouds.
The instant the Holy Blade Remains gave that faint tremble and ten thousand blades softly cried out, a terrifying gleam abruptly lit up his placid, ancient-well-like eyes.
His face was full of astonishment.
"I never thought you would truly manage to reach this