The Spirit Within the Sword

"My name is Bai Tang."

A voice sounded beside Jiang Yang's ear.

Neither male nor female, the voice was difficult to place. Its tone was somewhat low, yet it fell upon his ears like a breeze at dawn, brushing gently through his heart.

Although he could not distinguish the voice's gender, the image of a woman instinctively rose in Jiang Yang's mind. He had no reason for it; that was simply how he felt.

At the sound, Jiang Yang instinctively raised his head and looked around, but still found nothing.

His surroundings were utterly silent, without even a bird in sight. He swept his spirit sense back and forth three or four times, yet never glimpsed a single figure.

"Stop looking around. Look down."

Just as Jiang Yang was utterly bewildered, the voice sounded again.

He hurriedly lowered his head, but there was nothing beneath his feet except bare rock and earth. Surely she had not burrowed underground.

Suddenly, Jiang Yang froze. Slowly, he turned his gaze toward the ordinary, rust-stained slender sword in his hand.

He was no fool; the possibility simply had not occurred to him at first. Once it did, Jiang Yang could not help cautiously venturing:

"S-Senior Bai?"

"..."

The way Jiang Yang stared fixedly at the Sword Weapon seemed to amuse her. Still, she could hardly leave him unanswered, and after a long while, she finally replied:

"Idiot."

Once Jiang Yang saw that she truly responded, he had no time even to mind her appraisal. A hundred thoughts twisted through his heart, and he could neither release his grip on the sword nor bear to keep holding it.

He had assumed some senior expert from the sect was passing by. Instead, the source turned out to be the Spirit Sword Embryo he had just acquired.

Senior? Sword spirit? Xiao Yan... an old grandpa? A demon? Body Seizure?

Jiang Yang's mind was a tangled mess, countless thoughts bursting forth. He had been delighted to think he had found a bargain, only to discover an enormous headache instead. Now, he wished he could throw the sword as far away as possible.

Jiang Yang could hardly be blamed for letting his imagination run wild. Whoever lurked inside this sword was at least a thousand-year-old monster. Who knew what she was plotting? If she swallowed him alive, stripped him bare, and devoured him to the last scrap, heaven would not answer his cries, nor would earth heed his pleas.

Fortunately, Jiang Yang had weathered a few storms himself. Though panic gripped him, he gradually steadied himself without exposing too many weaknesses.

He cleared his dry throat and spoke:

"I did not know your august presence was here, Senior. If this junior has offended or disturbed you in any way, please forgive me."

"This junior is Jiang Yang, an inner disciple of Rain Xiang Mountain, studying under True Person Dawn Rain. Might I ask where you reside, Senior?"

After speaking, Jiang Yang fell silent and quietly awaited the sword's reply.

The enemy stood in darkness while he stood in the light, and he knew nothing about her. He could only attend to her cautiously while subtly revealing his backing, hoping it would give her pause and persuade her to take the hint and leave.

As for True Person Dawn Rain, that was merely a tiger's hide he had borrowed on the spot to bluff with—the only True Person whose name he knew. In an emergency, he could only borrow it to tide him over.

Throughout the ages, Violet Palace cultivators had always commanded great respect. Yet only heaven knew how much good that would do in his current predicament.

Jiang Yang's half-answer, half-question sank like a stone into the sea. He could not tell whether she had failed to notice his little scheme or had noticed and simply chosen to ignore it.

She merely asked one question:

"What year is it now?"

That was a simple question. Without delay, Jiang Yang circulated his magic power, calculated on his fingers, and replied:

"Senior, the Zheng Kingdom's calendar is currently recognized as the official reckoning. By the Zheng Kingdom reckoning of the Great Zhao Calendar, it is the three hundred and seventeenth year of Qiancheng, Jisi Month, Jihai Day."

After his words fell, she remained silent for a long time.

With her saying nothing, Jiang Yang dared not move without permission. Yet simply standing there was no solution either, so he spoke:

"Senior Bai Tang?"

"Surely you don't think I intend to Body Seizure you?"

"!"

Having his thoughts abruptly exposed sent a tremendous shock through Jiang Yang's heart, but he still forced a smile.

"H-how could I? Someone of your lofty standing could hardly take an interest in a lowly cultivator like me."

Despite his words, Jiang Yang's vigilance instantly reached its peak. He secretly tightened his hand, ready to fling the Sword Weapon away at any moment.

"Hmph. Your mouth says one thing, your heart another. I am merely a sword spirit and have no ability to Body Seizure anyone. Set your mind at ease."

"Now, tell me... where did you find me?"

Bai Tang asked calmly.

Though he did not know whether her words were true, the warmth of her voice slowly eased Jiang Yang's tension.

"As you wish, Senior."

Jiang Yang agreed.

Seizing the opportunity, he hurriedly planted the sword in the earth, then retreated several steps and sat cross-legged, putting some distance between them before he spoke:

"This begins with a Cave-Dwelling Legacy..."

Jiang Yang then recounted everything from beginning to end, telling the sword spirit Bai Tang all that he knew.

"A Cave-Dwelling Legacy?"

Bai Tang's voice was ethereal, like a murmur on the wind.

"You already looked like this when I first saw you, Senior. According to my senior brother, you were unearthed from the Sword-Washing Pool..."

Jiang Yang filled in the details as he spoke, then suddenly remembered something and added:

"Oh, Senior, does the [Thunderbolt Wind Sky Windwood Lineage] mean anything to you?"

He had learned the legacy's full lineage name from the pile of damaged jade slips. Since this Spirit Sword had been nurtured in the Sword Pool, he supposed there should be some connection between the two.

Bai Tang repeated the name twice after hearing it, but ultimately said:

"It seems familiar, yet it also seems not."

"My true spirit must be incomplete. Apart from my name, I have lost nearly all my memories..."

Even the damage to her true spirit sounded like an inconsequential matter on her lips. She remained as calm as ever.

Jiang Yang secretly breathed a sigh of relief. Whatever else might be true, the sword spirit's mood was stable for now, with no sign that she would suddenly lash out. That reassured him considerably.

"Do you have any further instructions, Senior Bai?"

With the immediate crisis averted, Jiang Yang's mind grew lively again, and he ventured a question.

"None."

"Then... is there somewhere you wish to go, Senior Bai? Just say the word, and I will see it done."

Jiang Yang wanted to feel her out little by little. After all, summoning a god was easy, but sending one away was hard. Naturally, the best outcome would be to persuade her to leave peacefully and without harm.

He only wanted a Spirit Sword to cultivate with, not a sword spirit.

Who could have known that the sword spirit Bai Tang would merely make the blade tremble and reply:

"I have nowhere to go. Besides, the Sword Weapon awakened to the aura of your soul, so naturally, I acknowledge you as my master."

Is... is she latching onto me?

Jiang Yang had never expected this. He had thought escaping safely would already be a blessing, yet now she actually wanted to recognize him as her master?

"Uh..."

Before Jiang Yang could decide what to say, the Spirit Sword planted in the earth began trembling incessantly and shot toward him. Bai Tang spoke crisply:

"Hold me tight."

"Oh, oh..."

With no time to think, Jiang Yang hurriedly caught the sword. In an instant, a sense of shared understanding surged into his heart.

Bai Tang's warm, low voice sounded within him:

"Join your fingers, form the seal, and strike!"

Jiang Yang instinctively circulated his magic power and poured it into the blade. A simple thrust pierced the air with a sharp explosive crack.

Three feet of blazing white Sword Qi, like the clear radiance of a crescent moon, whistled free of the blade and slashed outward in an instant.

"Hiss... boom!"

The razor-sharp Sword Qi pierced the mountainside, leaving a gash more than ten feet long. Its black depths were impossible to gauge at a glance. All around it, pine needles fell while fragments of hard stone and dusty earth trickled down.

In an instant, Jiang Yang's magic power was drained away like a house emptied by thieves. That single move had consumed almost half his reserves.

"Huff, huff, huff..."

Jiang Yang gripped the hilt and panted. The enormous expenditure of magic power in that brief instant left his meridians aching and swollen, but he paid it no heed. He simply stared at the ravaged mountainside, his eyes frighteningly bright.

"Your clumsy sword moves are loose and slow, your magic power scattered and hollow. At best, they deserve to be called sword light."

Bai Tang's words continued to sound within Jiang Yang's heart in that same mild, unhurried manner.

"And this is what we call Sword Qi!"