Of course Pei Ye remembered. In those late nights when his mind entered [Illuminating the Nether], the youth had observed everything that happened with calm, penetrating eyes. Every last detail.
He remembered venting his pent-up emotions before his master's grave: "...A perfect ring without a single gap. Worthy indeed of the place where an immortal buried a star! To break this formation, I have to start with that bead, but to touch that bead, I first have to fucking break this formation!"
But in the end, he had done it.
He had fashioned a clever "mole": sixty-eight swords that shared the Star Worm's origin and spirit. The Star Worm had accepted them without noticing a thing. Then they had erupted within it like a plague.
Pei Ye knew the key to that plan's success-the formation Qu Zhu had drawn on the swords possessed a perfection achieved through his modifications. Its harmony looked identical to the original formation, yet its underlying nature was different.
Black Cat had said that such a set of swords needed ten years of nurturing by mountains and waters to take shape. Now Pei Ye knew it had been born from this very [Mirror Dragon Sword Sea] beneath his feet.
Thus, all thirteen thousand swords in this mirror dragon bore those same array patterns.
Pei Ye kept swallowing against his dry, constricted throat, pinning the sword firmly to the ground with both knees.
In Qu Zhu's little courtyard in the valley of Lake Mountain, he had seen what it looked like before it was modified-the original array patterns stripped from the Star Worm.
It was the simplest of truths: if you were exactly like me, then I was exactly like you.
[Quail Head] granted him the clearest memories. Pei Ye struggled to steady his trembling fingers, and