Mirror Abyss Reincarnation

The cold light reflecting off the mirrors stung Chu Mo's retinas. Three hundred and sixty bronze mirrors formed a circle, each reflecting a different version of himself: one kneeling on Godfall Pavilion's altar, pierced by Ten Thousand Swords; one wearing a bronze mask, slaughtering beings in the divine regions; and one standing in the ruins of the Primordial Chaos Realm, holding Yun Che's corpse. The scenes were so real that when he reached out to touch a mirror, his fingertips were stained with the blood of his reflection.

"Chu Mo, these mirrors are devouring our spiritual energy!" Yun Che's voice trembled. The "Nine" character token in her hand suddenly grew hot. The moment the token's patterns aligned with the ground's star map, the three nearest mirrors shattered with a crash. What spilled out wasn't fragments, but viscous silver liquid that solidified into blades upon hitting the ground, shooting towards them both.

The Chaos Sword automatically unsheathed, vibrating in Chu Mo's palm, leaving afterimages. He found that the blades formed from the mirror liquid could mimic the techniques of the Primordial Sword Art. As the sword shadow of the third style, Sky Splitting, just appeared, the figure in the opposite mirror simultaneously unleashed the fourth style, Star Shattering. It turned out the Mirror Law of the Mirror Abyss corridor could replicate any technique of those who entered!

"Yun Che, close your eyes! Don't look at them!" Chu Mo swung his sword, cutting down the sky full of blades, but his peripheral vision caught sight of a mirror where a Zi Lin woman was suspended high in the air by countless chains. Beneath her scales, the same Chaos Sword Body patterns as his were visible—that was clearly a scene from three hundred years ago! He suddenly remembered the fragmented memories Wu Yin had before her death: every generation of Godfall Pavilion's Saintess would have a fragment of the First Generation Sword Master's soul implanted, becoming living sacrifices to maintain the cycle.

Yun Che's soft sword suddenly struck the ground, and ice-blue spiritual energy spread along the star map. As her sword tip traced the "Nine" character pattern on the ground, all the mirrors simultaneously trembled, and the reflected scenes began to overlap: the face beneath the bronze mask, the liquid law arm deep within Godfall Island, and the bronze coffin on the Primordial Chaos Realm altar inscribed with the name "Chu Mo." These scenes finally converged into the figure of an old man—the true face of the First Generation Sword Master, which had never appeared in the fragmented scrolls.

"So... this is the Sword Master's true plan!" A hoarse female voice came from the end of the corridor. Chu Mo's blood felt like it was freezing. The voice was identical to Zi Lin and Wu Yin's, trembling with the unique curse mark of Godfall Pavilion. The woman who emerged from the mist wore twelve layers of Zi Lin armor, each scale embedded with the memories of Chaos Sword Body hosts from different eras. Her eyes were two pools of boiling golden blood, reflecting Chu Mo's shocked face.

"I am the eighteenth Saintess of Godfall Pavilion, and the last vessel of the Sword Master." The woman raised her hand, and the reflection in the mirror showed the body of the clone Chu Mo had seen on Godfall Island. "Thirty thousand years. Every generation of hosts sees their own death in the Mirror Abyss corridor—and you are the first to shatter all the mirrors."

Yun Che suddenly pressed her token against the nearest mirror. The mirror rippled like water, revealing a bloody altar behind it. Suspended in the center of the altar were nine bronze fragments, each inscribed with a different "Chu Mo" name. The newest one still bore the blood he had left on Godfall Island. This was the fate plate the First Generation Sword Master used to divide his fragmented soul!

"Stop her!" the woman roared, and all the Chu Mos in the mirrors simultaneously swung their swords. Chu Mo felt countless hands tearing at his soul, and the voices of his selves from different timelines echoed in his ears: "Surrender, this is the fate of thirty thousand years... Kill Yun Che, and you can become the true Sword Master... Look in the mirror, you are already a butcher covered in blood."

The Chaos Sword suddenly let out an unwilling cry. The golden blood overflowing from the cracks in its blade actually wrote the tenth style of the Primordial Sword Art in the air—the Fate Defying Style he had comprehended when shattering the bead on Godfall Island. As the sword tip touched the ground, all the mirrors simultaneously cracked. The woman's scales in the mirror peeled off one by one, revealing her back covered in curse marks beneath. Each curse mark corresponded to the name of a dead host.

"Do you think breaking the mirror can change fate?" The woman gave a tragic laugh. Her blood-pool eyes suddenly reflected the sky above the Ninth Divine Region. The "Future Chu Mo" wearing the bronze mask stood atop Hong Meng Hall, stringing together the heads of twelve divine lords as a sword tassel. "Thirty thousand years ago, the First Generation Sword Master sealed the Demon God with his Chaos Sword Body, but found the power insufficient to maintain it. So he created you perfect vessels—and I am the living lock used to monitor each generation of hosts."

Yun Che's fingertip suddenly touched a bronze fragment on the altar, and a memory flooded in like a tide: in her final moments on Godfall Island, Zi Lin had merged her fragmented soul with Chu Mo's blood, opening a rift in the Mirror Abyss corridor leading to "true history." There was no Godfall Pavilion, no Chaos Sword Body hosts, only the First Generation Sword Master kneeling before the Demon God's corpse, carving his dying words with a Broken Sword:

"With my Sword Body as a prison, I confine the Demon God's fragmented soul within the cycle. Should future generations see this碑, remember—Chaos is not a tool, but the Dao that shatters all cages."

"Chu Mo, look here!" Yun Che's shout pierced the chaos. Chu Mo looked up and saw the true Ninth Divine Region reflected in the pool of blood in the center of the altar: the nine floating islands were not divine regions, but nine Demon God seals divided by the First Generation Sword Master using his Chaos Sword Body. And the so-called divine lords were merely disciples of the Sword Master, corrupted by the Demon God's fragmented soul. The woman suddenly lunged towards the altar, trying to use her last strength to activate the fate plate. Chu Mo's Chaos Sword was faster than his consciousness. The blade stopped before her brow—reflected in her eyes was the gentle gaze Zi Lin had given Yun Che the first time she saw her three hundred years ago. It turned out the fragmented souls of Godfall Pavilion's Saintesses had never truly been devoured by the First Generation Sword Master's fragmented soul. They had always been leaving clues for each generation of hosts in their own way, showing them how to break free.

"Do it, host of the Chaos Sword Body..." The woman's voice was as light as mist. "Kill me, and you can get the last fragment of the fate plate—go to Hong Meng Hall at the top of the Ninth Divine Region, the true answer is there."

Chu Mo's hand holding the sword hilt trembled. The ground of the Mirror Abyss corridor suddenly cracked open, revealing a burning sea of golden fire below—that was the seal the First Generation Sword Master had formed with his divine blood. As his sword tip pierced the woman's heart, the twelve layers of Zi Lin armor transformed into streams of light and merged into the Chaos Sword. The cracks on the sword body actually began to show star map-like patterns—the coordinates to Hong Meng Hall.

Yun Che picked up the last fragment inscribed with the character "End." She suddenly pointed to the end of the corridor: "Chu Mo, look!" The mist there was dissipating, revealing a golden palace suspended in the starry sky. The ancient characters "Hong Meng Hall" on the palace gates shone with a creation-like brilliance. And standing before the gates were twelve figures wearing armor of different colors. Embedded in their chests were the same seals as the beads on Godfall Island.

The Chaos Sword's cry was deafening. Chu Mo felt something awakening within him. The countless images of himself he had seen in the mirrors now intertwined in his Sea of Consciousness, forming a massive net. And he stood at the center of this net, holding the sword that could cut all the threads.

"Let's go, Yun Che," Chu Mo said softly. "Regardless of whether it's the truth of the First Generation Sword Master or the Demon God's conspiracy ahead, our sword only cuts the path we choose."

The moment they stepped out of the Mirror Abyss corridor, all the mirrors shattered simultaneously. Among the countless Chu Mos reflected in the mirrors, only their figures did not dissipate. And in the depths of the shattered mirrors, the fragmented souls of Zi Lin and Wu Yin looked at each other and smiled. With thirty thousand years of sacrifice, they had finally waited for the one who could make the Chaos Sword Body no longer a vessel, but a true Sword Sovereign.

The bell of Hong Meng Hall suddenly rang. The twelve divine lords simultaneously turned around. There was no hostility in their eyes, only a sense of relief as if freed. And atop the palace, the "Future Chu Mo" wearing the bronze mask slowly removed it, revealing the same face as Chu Mo's, except for a sword scar below the left eye, running from the brow to the jaw—the mark of perishing with the Demon God.

"Welcome to the true divine region." The Future Chu Mo's voice carried the沧桑 of ten thousand years. As he raised his hand, the gates of Hong Meng Hall opened with a roar. Floating within the hall was the Demon God's core, sealed by the First Generation Sword Master using his Chaos Sword Body, and the truth for which all hosts had sacrificed themselves over thirty thousand years.

Chu Mo tightened his grip on Yun Che's hand. The Chaos Sword was hot in his palm. He knew the real battle had just begun—for Zi Lin, for Wu Yin, for all the Chaos Sword Body hosts who had died as sacrifices in Godfall Pavilion, and even more so, to make the Chaos Sword Body no longer a prisoner of fate, but a Sword Sovereign that could cleave through all lies.

And this time, his sword would no longer obey the arrangements of any god.