A sword would rust if left unused for too long.
Then how could that rust be removed, restoring a sword's cold gleam?
Naturally, by giving it a thorough sharpening on a whetstone.
Ouyang, who had been the Chinese class representative in his previous life, instantly understood the meaning behind those words. He looked coldly at the man before him and said, "You want to use Sword Cultivators' lives as a whetstone?"
The man nodded, then shook his head. "Yes and no. Rather than their lives, it would be more accurate to say their sword intent. Gather ten thousand swords into one, and you can hone the Immortal Sword's edge. A pretty good idea, isn't it?"
The man spoke of a method that required killing so many people with casual indifference, as effortlessly as though he were stepping on a few ants.
"An Immortal Sword? More like a Demon Sword!" Ouyang retorted with a sneer.
"Immortals, demons! What difference do you think there is? In the end, isn't it all about becoming that one that belongs to you?" Sitting cross-legged on the lake's surface, the man looked at Ouyang and smiled.
"Those who cultivate are selfish by nature. They'll stop at nothing for their own Dao. Look at those Sword Cultivators hoping to inherit Li Taibai's legacy. Aren't they just the same?" the man said, staring at Ouyang without yielding an inch.
"That's what demons do. True cultivators seek only to pursue their own Dao openly and honorably!" Ouyang shot back.
The two remained at an impasse for a while. In the end, the man gave in first. Bracing both hands against the water, he leaned back and drawled, "Whatever. It's all the same anyway, just dressed up in a high-sounding excuse."
"You're the sword spirit? You set up this whole