These swords were not lifeless objects. Every one of them radiated Sword Intent of varying strength, resonating with one another and emitting deep, vast sword cries like the heartbeat of the earth.
In the distance rose towering mountain ranges, yet they were no ordinary mountains. They were Sword Mountains formed from even larger, more ancient giant swords piled together, fused, and grown into shape.
The mountainsides were jagged, like interlocking sword edges.
The streams winding through the mountains were liquefied, pure Sword Qi.
The trees that grew there were crystallizations of condensed Sword Intent.
There was no sun or moon in the sky—only billions upon billions of crisscrossing sword lights flowing like auroras, colliding, vanishing, and being reborn, bathing the entire holy land in silvery-white radiance.
Every so often, enormous sword pengs formed entirely from Sword Qi swept across the heavens, letting out clear, ringing cries.
At the center of the holy land, the tallest main peak was even more beyond imagination.
It was not formed of physical swords, but a silver-white sword light condensed to the utmost extreme, erupting from the earth and thrusting into the heavens, disappearing into the canopy of sword light at the highest point.
The sword light was as immense as a mountain.
Even from tens of thousands of miles away, its pure Sword Intent made Ye Lin's skin sting and his soul tremble.
That was the core of this holy land, one manifestation of the origin of the Sword Dao, and one of the sources of all Sword Dao inheritances in the holy lands.
Before the mountain gate stood a hundred-zhang-tall sword stele, upon which two great characters had been inscribed in ancient sword script.
"Sword Source."
The strokes were like swords, each one containing the resolve to cleave through all things and a