A thumb-sized man stood in the void.
Small as he was, all his meridians and organs remained intact. He was still a Void Refining cultivator, able to draw spiritual energy from the chaos of the void and take it into his body.
Vast amounts of sunlight gathered around him. He breathed it in and out, transforming it into spiritual energy that nourished his body.
Jiang Ding sat cross-legged and motionless for three full years.
After three years of nourishment, his terribly weakened soul had recovered a little. His body seemed to have grown a few millimeters too, though the change was barely noticeable.
"Well, then."
"This is going to take quite a while..."
Jiang Ding opened his eyes.
Once he was certain that healing would be a long undertaking, he set it aside for now and turned to his spoils.
Two flying swords, one black and one white, from Taiyou and the Radiant Sword Lord.
The two swords were drawn to each other by nature. Entwined, they refused to part even in death, sharing a grave. In the Sacred Sword Duel, they had burned away their last traces of strength to kill their foe and take their sword dao one step further.
In the end, they had died.
Just like the countless sword cultivators who had died by their hands.
Sword cultivators fought for the Great Dao. If they died, they died without regret or resentment.
"Fellow Daoist Guangming. Fellow Daoist Taiyou."
"I will carry your glory forward, all the way until I attain the Dao and become an immortal..."
Jiang Ding spoke softly.
If he died by another sword cultivator's hand one day, and the Immortal Sect was not involved, he too would sincerely wish the victor a clear path ahead with his dying breath.
"As for your descendants,"