Shang Residence, ancestral hall.
Shang Hongye led Huo Yunting and the others into the ancestral hall.
Inside, the ancestral tablets of Prince Zhenbei's lineage were enshrined.
Prince Zhenbei spent all year campaigning abroad, and the ancestral hall had been entrusted to an old servant for upkeep.
Before the tablets sat a sandalwood box.
The sandalwood box looked utterly ordinary, yet it faintly radiated sharp sword light.
Shang Hongye's expression turned solemn as her slender, jade-like hand opened the wooden box.
Clang!
A clear, melodious sword cry rang out.
Like a spring of clear water flowing through everyone's hearts.
Preserved within the sandalwood box was Prince Zhenbei's sword from his early years—Calming the Storm.
At this moment, the infamous divine sword Calming the Storm was covered in wounds and cracks.
It seemed as though a single touch would shatter it completely.
The sword marks on its blade had been left ten years ago, when the northern barbarians marched south and Prince Zhenbei alone fought three Barbarian Kings.
Ever since that battle, the divine essence of Calming the Storm had been utterly ruined, like a patient exhausted beyond all measure.
Only the indestructible strand of sword intent within its sword spirit kept the blade from falling apart.
Shang Hongye knew that this divine sword, Calming the Storm, had only one final strike left.
Once it was unleashed, Calming the Storm would vanish into ashes and smoke forever.
Her tender jade fingers traced the blade before she gripped its hilt, making up her mind.
Calming the Storm seemed to sense the resolve in Shang Hongye's heart, and its blade let out ceaseless cries.
Like an old soldier who had survived a hundred battles, welcoming the final battle of his life.
Holding Calming the Storm, she lightly swept it through the air.
The void