Chaos flew onward for several more days.
After passing through Chang'an, it was as though Xie Changliu's heart had been opened. He had found an outlet to vent through, and his sword cultivation was growing stronger at a speed visible to the mortal eye.
Calling it a thousand miles in a single day would not have been an exaggeration.
It was as though his thousands of years of accumulation in the Small World at the ends of the earth had finally blossomed and borne fruit.
He had attained the realm of the Sword Dao.
"What Sword Canon were those Nameless Two Swords pursuing?" Xu Zimo asked.
"With cultivation like that of the Nameless Two Swords, yet still pursuing a Sword Canon, I suspect the one behind them was the Zhou Emperor," Xie Changliu replied.
"The so-called Sword Canon is merely a fragmentary scroll. It is not actually that powerful, but rumors have made it seem stronger and stronger.
"My master refused to hand it over because he knew that only while the Sword Canon remained with him could he stay alive."
As the two spoke, Chaos came to a halt above a stretch of ruins.
The demonic energy in Xu Zimo's hand also descended, indicating that Old Man Zhuo Qiu was here.
"We're here." The two leaped down from Chaos's back, landing on the ground as they looked ahead.
Before them lay ancient ruins.
No one knew how long ago these ruins had existed. Nearly every structure had already collapsed.
The only things still visible were scattered broken walls and crumbling remains.
Even those shattered remnants had been damaged for countless years, their innumerable traces worn away by the passage of time.
What is Old Man Zhuo Qiu doing here? Xu Zimo thought to himself.
The two walked through the