The Tian Mountain Sword Shrine, where the Sword Graveyard rests.
The Sword Graveyard sits on the sheer cliff of Tian Mountain, its view obscured by clouds and mist below, through which the Sword Furnace Plaza can dimly be seen.
Various swords are embedded in the cliffs, some having melded with the trees, others encrusted with a stone-like shell on their surfaces—each bearing the marks of the passage of time.
The owners of these swords once fought valiantly in the City of Divine Beings.
But in the end, they all met their downfall, their swords being returned to this place.
Under the wind-blown pines and cypresses, an old man in simple clothing sits opposite a slender middle-aged scholar, a massive slab of bluestone between them on which rests an elegant wine pot and cups.
The old man’s beard is as white as snow, his long hair tied loosely with a grass rope, his expression solemn, his breath faint, as if he were no different from the bluestone before him.
No one would have guessed that he was once the master of Hengyun Sword City.
One of the Nine Heavens.
As for the scholar sitting opposite him, his brows knit deeply, his hair disheveled, he looked rather rebellious and carefree, yet at the same time seemed to suffer from some chronic ailment.
He rather resembled a scholar who had taken some spirit stones, letting his wild nature take over.
But despite this, his noble air could not be suppressed.
“I remember when I first met you, you looked just like this. If even I am getting old, you still look exactly the same.”
The middle-aged scholar’s tone was both gentle and commanding.
“Is it that old men who don’t d*e are considered bandits?” The old man chuckled, took a sip of wine, and seemed unable to taste much of it.
“This year’s Qianlong List has some noteworthy individuals. There’s Ying Bing, who doesn’t fall short of her peers, and there’s also a young one who’s not bad. Unfortunately, his sword talent is too weak.”
“Otherwise, with these two plus Jiang Yu, Xie Xuan wouldn’t have to enter the City of Divine Beings.”
The middle-aged scholar sighed lightly.
Upon hearing this, the old man couldn’t help but laugh.
“What’s so funny?” The scholar raised an eyebrow.
“How could I possibly be laughing at you? I laugh because your father and I spent our entire lives working hard, only for it to be like planting without intending to and having willows flourish anyway. Despite the Tian Mountain Sword Shrine producing so many skilled swordsmen, in the end… it seems we must rely on a hammer-wielding person, holding a divine sword, to break through the Celestials.”
“You mean… that God Hammer Little Overlord?”
The scholar became serious, his barely noticeable dignity seeping through.
“Long ago, Ying Bing came once, with Little Master.”
The scholar froze for a moment, a complex sense of guilt flickering in his eyes.
“All is fate, not a bit within human control…”
“Ying Bing asked me if the Divine Sword of the Celestials one day called out to her, would it be taken back.”
“I boldly told her that if she deserves the sword, it’s hers to take.”
Since Shi Sujun had left the divine sword in the City of Divine Beings…
The Da Yu Realm began the triennial Qianlong Conference.
Numerous talented individuals from the Nine Heavens and Ten Earths gathered in the Imperial Capital, eager for their chance at glory, seeking the prestige of being among the best.
But alas, despite many coming, no one has been able to bring the Divine Sword of the Celestials out ever again.
Not to mention becoming its master.
“How did she even locate the sword, let alone retrieve it?”
The middle-aged scholar asked hastily.
“I watched Little Master, who has an innate sword’s essence; she’d have no trouble finding her mother’s sword if she tried.”
“She… is superior to even Sujun. Why couldn’t she summon the sword?”
The old man seemed slightly drunk.
“But the one wielding the sword…”
The scholar stopped here, suddenly remembering what the old man had said before. He reined in all his emotions and fell into deep thought.
After a moment of silence, the scholar stood up and looked up at the enormous ‘Map of the World’ hanging high in the sky and nodded silently.
A bolt of lightning surged within the Map of the World, and the City of Divine Beings appeared.
…
The divine sword had come down into the hands of Ying Bing once again, drawing every gaze onto her as she stood there, utterly mesmerizing.
Her sword gleamed like celestial crystal, scattering moonlight everywhere, yet her skin remained as radiant as frost-covered moonlight—like someone who had just returned from the moon palace, except instead of stealing herbal medicine, she had taken the sword.
Then she landed beside a certain little overlord, staring at him with admiration, whispering:
“You’ve managed to get the sword. It… must surely be fitting for your dreams.”
“My dreams? What merit do they have…”
Li Mo’s scalp tingled, almost forgetting to breathe.
Second in the Nine Heavens and Ten Earths List of Divine Weapons!
Just next to the Eight Directions Seal which the emperor uses daily to mark his decrees!
Suspended in the City of Divine Beings—it had caused countless heroes to bow in awe. Even many of the prodigies participating in the Qianlong Conference came merely to catch a glimpse of its legendary might.
And now, before the conference has even started, there it was, lying there right in front of him.
It felt within reach… to wield the Divine Sword of the Celestials!
Suddenly the sword square fell silent—there had been a bit of a commotion when the sword elders and the various masters of the shrine arrived.
On their way there they thought, ‘With so many years seated in this sacred sword shrine, what haven’t we seen?’
That old man Nangong making such a fuss—really quite laughable.
When they arrived, however, they realized this was something they’d truly never seen before.
The divine sword had been pulled out.
Moreover, the person who pulled it out seemed intent on giving it away!
“How could the Cold Fairy be anything less than a stunning beauty like this… like someone straight out of a picture.”
“Are you focused on the wrong thing? She just brought the second-ranked blade from the City of Divine Beings, does the Qianlong Conference even need to take place now?”
“Was the God Hammer Little Overlord a savior of the Nine Heavens and Ten Earths in a past life or something? He’d better d*e, he really should.”
“Since when did he become a hammer-wielding demigod anyway? The Divine Sword snubbed even Xie Xuan; to hand it to him is like feeding pearls to swine.”
The scene grew increasingly chaotic.
Not just for everyone else…
Even Little Li thought that his sword-wielding talent was unworthy of such a celestial treasure.
“Li Mo, you can do it,” Ying Bing said earnestly, her icy demeanor unchanging.
Li Mo pondered for a moment and said, “Well… How about you use the divine sword, and I use the Great Void…”
Ying Bing’s eyes softened faintly: “I say you can, so no one can say you cannot.”
“Alright!”
Li Mo reached out, touching the hilt of the sword.
The hilt wasn’t cold as expected, but rather extremely warm. Li Mo was startled—it seemed this divine sword was far gentler than he imagined, very well-behaved.
But just as he thought that, he was proven wrong.
The Divine Sword buzzed with a resonant sound, unleashing waves of persistent sword energy and intent, as if expressing its dissatisfaction.
This sensation was akin to holding multiple swords all at once.
Back in the day when Chi Xiao reluctantly accepted its master, he also endured an assault of sword intent.
The intensity of this feeling now surpassed that of Chi Xiao by a factor of ten thousand, and even Li Mo’s sturdy body couldn’t withstand it.
Suddenly, before he could think of letting go, a pale hand grasped his wrist.
Her voice was calm: “Behave, or I’ll make you regret it.”
The Divine Sword settled down instantly.
“…”
Li Mo felt a bond had formed reluctantly between the spirit of the sword and himself.
Afraid not to listen and be thrown back into the City of Divine Beings by Ice Chunk.
Was this… allowed?
“Whoa…”
Could this even be possible?!
Xie Xuan collapsed onto the ground in a heap, looking as if he’d lost his soul.
