Time flew by, and the final month at last arrived.
Beneath the deep, distant sky, almost all of the lower dozens of floors of the Sword Tower lit up.
Streak after streak of dazzling, magnificent sword patterns appeared upon the Sword Tower, making the entire tower seem even more mysterious and wondrous.
At the entrance to the Sword Tower, people walked out from time to time, and from time to time, others entered.
No one was willing to give up, both for this rare chance to temper their swordsmanship, and for the treasures inside the Sword Tower.
It was just that the more times they entered the Sword Tower, the more failures they suffered.
For cultivators with firm wills, it was still fine, but those young cultivators whose minds were a little weaker, who merely had decent talent, after failing several times, looked at that pitch-black Sword Tower as though they were looking at nightmares and savage beasts. Just facing it made them hesitate.
Although being killed within the Sword Tower was only failure, and they would not lose anything, the sensation within the Sword Tower was incomparably real.
For those whose hearts toward the Dao were not steadfast, experiencing death many times in a short span made it very easy for doubt to arise in their hearts.
Not to mention, challenging the Sword Tower meant endless slaughter, endless tempering.
Thus, when the time came to the last dozen or so days, more and more cultivators began giving up on taking treasures and stopped challenging the tower.
Getting used to death was by no means a good thing.
As another streak of spiritual light descended, Wan Muchun and Wan Chengjie walked out almost at the same time.
The two looked at each other, and both could see the excitement in