He found a record of the Black Sword among his ancestor's writings. Though the account was sparse, it piqued Wenlong's interest.
As it turned out, the sword's origins were unknown. It had once sparked a fierce struggle for possession, costing countless bold souls of the martial world their lives.
The sword had not originally been black. To keep others from recognizing it, someone had soaked it in a special medicinal concoction, turning it into the Black Sword.
Yet even at his death, the ancestor had never unleashed the sword's full power, nor had he unraveled its mysteries.
After obtaining the sword by chance, the ancestor had inadvertently let word of it slip to a close friend. In the end, the sword had forced him to flee for his life, wandering to the ends of the earth.
Wenlong sighed. Our ancestor's family was shattered and slaughtered over this sword. Was it really worth it? Or was it all because he befriended a treacherous scoundrel?
He took everything that could serve no purpose on this continent, hoping it might prove useful on the Azure Dragon Continent.
After packing everything away, he took another look at the Secret Passage. It would be difficult to return here often in the future.
After some thought, he went back into the Secret Passage, intending to seal the opening at the other end of the stone wall.
That would keep outsiders from stumbling into this place and disturbing his ancestor's remains or the precious spirit water.
He had never noticed that a stone had been prepared beside the opening, just the right size to block it.
He turned back. Passing his ancestor's remains, he bowed three times and promised that, if the opportunity arose, he would avenge the slaughter of his ancestor's family. He prayed for his