Time flowed differently inside the Azure Sky Mirror than in the real world, and time on the Chaotian Continent might also flow differently from outside. But the direction of time never changed, always advancing with the same tedium and cold indifference. On an utterly ordinary day, Ping Yongjia finally woke atop Sword Peak.
Time had covered him in dust and dirt, but he hardly felt it. He felt he had slept wonderfully well, his whole body at ease, and instinctively stretched.
Faint popping sounds came from inside his body, followed immediately by a rainstorm of cracks among the surrounding cliffs.
Crack, crack, crack, crack!
Countless strands of invisible sword intent spread from his outstretched hands, striking the hard cliff rock and cutting countless marks into it.
Loose stones pattered down, instantly carpeting the ground.
He jumped down from the cliff cave. Looking at the clear, deep sword marks on the cliff face, he was speechless with astonishment. He stared at his hands, thinking, What happened?
After pondering for a long while without understanding, he could not be bothered to think about it anymore. He wandered through the mountain, hoping to pick up a sword that caught his eye.
Countless noises sounded among the peaks. Gravel rolled, sword intent gradually arose, and dozens of flying swords and sword blanks flew out of the ground and cracks in the rocks.
Strangely enough, when he had come to Sword Peak to seek a sword years ago, these swords had also flown out of their own accord.
But today was somewhat different. When Ping Yongjia reached out to take a closer look at a sword he rather liked, it retreated, avoiding his hand.
Ping Yongjia froze, then reached for another sword. That sword rolled over several times on the ground and actually dodged him