With his head held high, he slowly flew toward the valley.
An immensely powerful sword intent seemed almost tangible, battering Lu Feng's primordial spirit in wave after wave. It felt as though ten thousand swords were piercing his body, chilling him to the bone.
Fortunately, cultivating the Spiritual Resonance Sword had rapidly strengthened his mental power, and his flesh was formidable. He had little trouble enduring it.
Normally, given his temperament, Lu Feng would probably have left upon entering such an unknown, uncanny place. But this place was different. Within those powerful sword intents, he recognized many familiar traces, though he could not recall where he had encountered them.
His origins were unknown, and anything that felt vaguely familiar stirred an inexplicable emotion within him. He always felt it might be connected to his past, so he would never simply pass it by.
He advanced step by step, dimly sensing ten thousand swords flying throughout the valley.
These were not little swords formed from mental power, but lingering sword intent. Whoever had fought here had been so powerful, and had reached such an inconceivable realm of swordsmanship, that they had left this effect behind.
This must have been a battlefield where peerless experts had fought. Their terrifying power had even devastated Buzhou Mountain, reputedly formed from Pangu's spine.
Looking around, he could readily make out the traces left by sword qi. Some were as tiny as pinpoints; others were immense chasms stretching ten thousand spans.
Between the vastness of Mount Sumeru and the minuteness of a mustard seed, the combatants' effortless control over true qi and sword intent was all the more apparent.
Standing near the center, Lu Feng closed his eyes. In a place like this, what he could see with his naked eyes would never reveal its true