His gaze moved from one sword to the next. He looked carefully, but not cautiously, as though he were browsing a study rather than stepping into some perilous trial ground.
The ancient swords each reacted differently as his gaze swept over them. Some blades grew faintly warm and let out heavy, muffled hums, as if issuing a warning.
The tips of others frosted over with a touch of white, their chill biting, as if in rejection.
Several more lazily swayed their hilts, as though turning over in their sleep before continuing their nap.
"The third trial: Myriad Swords Pay Homage."
Cangfeng's voice came from somewhere beyond the Sword Graveyard, sounding especially distant through the gray mist.
"The rules are simple—there are hardly any rules. These swords all possess their own sword souls and temperaments."
"They may reject you, test you, subdue you. Or they may accept you, draw close to you, submit to you."
"What you must do is reach the Progenitor Sword at the very center of the Sword Graveyard and win the acknowledgment of every sword along the way."
"If even one sword fails to acknowledge you, the trial will not count as passed. Among the true disciples throughout history who passed this trial, the shortest time taken was twelve hours. The longest..."
Cangfeng paused.
"The one who took the longest stayed in the Sword Graveyard for three years and seven months before emerging. It was not because his talent was poor, but because the swords here were far too picky. If a single sword refused to acknowledge you, you would be unable to take even one step forward."
After hearing this, Ye Lin showed no sign of pressure.
He nodded lightly, then glanced around.
Finally, he lowered his head slightly to look at the black earth beneath