He saw a blurred figure standing sword in hand amid a sea of Chaos.
There was no sword in that figure's hand, yet the entire Chaos was being carved apart by the nothingness in his grasp.
With every stroke, new laws were born.
With every slash, new worlds took shape.
That figure—was it Ye Xiu?
Or someone from even earlier?
Ye Lin could no longer tell.
He only saw the figure glance back, his gaze crossing boundless time and space to fall upon him.
That gaze held the sword's sharpness, and the sword's tenderness.
"Come back!"
The voice was soft, like a sword tip touching water.
Ye Lin abruptly came back to himself and found that he was still standing atop the spine of that colossal sword.
But the colossal sword had changed.
From its former plain, unadorned form, it had become translucent throughout, as though cast from Liuli.
Countless tiny sword phantoms flowed within its blade. Every one of them displayed a different sword technique—some fierce and forceful as thunderclap, some supple as flowing water, some elusive as phantoms, some upright and majestic as mountains.
"The first transformation is awakening."
The sixty voices rang out again.
This time, Ye Lin could distinguish the emotions within them.
There was anticipation, reverence, and a focus that bordered on devotion.
"The Dao Lord has slumbered too long. The Sword Heart has been clouded, the Sword Intent scattered, and the sword soul locked away."
"We must awaken for you that first sword—not your sword, not anyone's sword, but the first imprint left by the sword itself in the depths of your consciousness."
"That imprint fused with your soul and has existed since the moment you were born. It has merely been buried beneath the cycles of countless lifetimes."
"Now!!!"
The hand seals of